I Wonder Why ...

There are a lot of things that puzzle me in and beyond this world and I sometimes wonder whether I am far weirder than I originally thought I was. I have been known to sit with my mouth agape with a look of total astonishment on my face about things I read about and see on the TV. 

However, it is worse than that. There are more traditional things that are etched into history, culture and general behaviour that truly astonish me. I thought I might just discuss some of these in a couple of blog posts, starting with this one.

Why do close female friends complement each other, yet close male friends rip each other to shreds mercilessly? 

Whenever Mrs PM goes out with her friends, she says things like “OOH! I love your dress”, “Your new hairstyle is wonderful” and “You look radiant today”.

The male equivalents are “So what possessed you wear that shirt? Are you taking drugs again?”, “It looks like you had a fight with a combine harvester and lost. I hope you’re taking the barber to court” and “You look a bit soppy today. Are you hung over?”

The thing is that men laugh at such insults even when they are the target. For example, I was recently in a pub with four other lads in Chester and I said “When I started drinking, I used to have lager and a dash of lime in it.” I was going to explain that I did that because I didn’t like the taste of beer at the time and the lime made it drinkable. I was going to go on to explain that I stopped drinking it because it was expensive and I grew to like the taste of beer. 

I didn’t get very far at all. As soon as I said “lime” I was ruthlessly mocked – by all four of them. I just had to sit there and take the abuse. Mind you, the abuse was funny so I was laughing along too. 

When did that start to happen? And why? 

Why do some people get so angry online?

I’ve had the odd reaction to innocent posts in the past from “keyboard warriors” and “trolls” mainly in comments. When I had a go at Shakespeare in a humorous post, one or two people had a real go at me, calling me names and unleashing their rage at me. 

I allowed one or two posts to slip through but rejected the rest of them because they were quite bad. I have a thick skin so I can take it. I have faith in people and although they disagreed with my thoughts, some people did so in a nice way that provoked debate rather than expressing their outrage on my innocent content.

Some people get a lot worse abuse than I have ever received though. You only have to see reactions to things that celebrities do or what politicians say to judge the depth of the anger and rage in some people. And a lot of things that these trolls are reacting too is totally trivial. 

One of the biggest offenders is Donald Trump but they can’t all be like him – surely? Not everybody in the world is a malignant narcissist, are they? 

I believe that it is because some people are unable to vent their rage in normal life and choose to do so anonymously. 

What I don't understand is that I would never do that so why do some people think it is okay to be so completely horrible online?

What the hell is going on in the universe?

This year, in order to improve the subject matter of my reading material, I decided to start reading more non-fiction and the first book I read was “A Brief History of Time” by the late lamented Professor Stephen Hawking. I studied and passed “A-Level” physics and understood some of the basic concepts he was writing about. Of course, my knowledge of the universe is limited, especially compared to the genius author, but some concepts made my mind utterly boggle. 

For example, time is not a constant. Just think about that for a second. We move through the universe at a temporal speed of one second per second. Yet as we move out into space and increase our speed, time moves slower. What this means is that if I were to board a spaceship and travel for a minute at the speed of light, then time slows down for you. 

Doesn’t that boggle your mind? 

But it’s worse than that. What is dark matter? What the hell is anti-matter? And what is the deal with black holes? What happened before the Big Bang? 

I really enjoyed the book but it left far more questions than answers. 

To be fair, I think that there are numerous physicists trying to answer these questions and make sense of them. 

But my mind is truly boggled!

Why do men stand next to each other when they go to the toilet?

Okay – this is a weird one and I've left it until last for that reason. 

I am a man and I have accepted that whenever I go to a public toilet, I sometimes have to stand next to a man and answer the call of nature. 

But why do we do this? There are unwritten rules of etiquette when you are a bloke. You are not supposed to look around when you are doing the business and definitely not allowed to talk to the gentleman standing next to you, even if you are best friends. Yet women, apparently, are quite happy to have a deep conversation from adjacent cubicles. For men, once you pass the threshold of the toilet door and enter that realm, communication becomes a bad thing unless it is absolutely necessary. And the moment you stand in front of a urinal, no words should pass your lips until you have finished. 

It’s odd. Some bloke in the past must have decided that it is okay to make men stand next to each other. I wonder who that was? 

And finally …

There are many more things that confuse me and I will almost certainly highlight some of these in future posts. 

I am clearly not as clever as I thought I was. 

Bull in a China Shop

So there I am sitting in a quiet place, minding my own business, and enjoying the silence as I read, contemplate life and take a nice quiet journey around my weird and wonderful imagination.

And then you hear something approaching in the distance; the Bull in the china shop.

Note - I use the word “bull” just because the phrase sums this person up perfectly but it is not necessarily male.

Let's call this person Bull.

First the voice – either a shrieking high pitched cackle or a deep booming laugh – before Bull appears and shatters the tranquillity in the noisiest way possible.

Bull shouts rather than speaks.

Bull laughs so loud that windows shake and glass struggles not to shatter.

Bull sits right next to complete strangers and invades their personal space even when he has never met them.

Bull slams doors.

Bull orders noisy food to eat and slobbers and crunches his way through the food.

Bull finds it impossible to stay still.

Bull finds it impossible to stay quiet.

Bull has to talk to people in his vicinity even if he doesn’t know them.

Bull thinks he’s the most popular person in whatever room he is in.

Bull moves things around with so much noise that he disturbs everyone and everything in his path.

Bull is usually a clumsy oaf.

Here is an example of Bull:

I don’t mind people who are talkative and funny and loud sometimes, but Bull is something else entirely - always loud, rarely funny and totally annoying – the kind of person who comes into a room and wants to simply take over, even when the room is quiet – for example a restaurant.

When Bull sits on the adjacent table in a restaurant, your enjoyment of the meal plummets.

Even when total privacy is required, Bull can invade your space.

Take for example if you are in a public toilet cubicle and Bull comes in. You hear him march in, slamming the door and cringe as he goes into the cubicle next to you, slamming the door of course. There is no subtlety – he groans, belches, farts throws himself onto the toilet as if from a great height, snorts, groans, makes as much noise as he can and in the worst case, starts talking on his phone.

Worse – he starts talking to YOU!

I have had the misfortune of sitting next to Bull on flight from Europe to Manchester.

The conversation went something like this:

Bull: WHAT ARE YOU READING?

PM: I’m sorry? 

Bull: I SAID WHAT ARE YOU READING?

PM: “A Short History of Nearly Everything” by Bill Bryson.

Bull: OH – I LIKE BILL BRYSON BUT THAT BOOK IS BLOODY SHIT! I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE WAS THINKING WHEN HE WROTE THAT GARBAGE. HOW FAR THROUGH IT ARE YOU?

PM: I’ve just started it.

Bull: WELL IF I WERE YOU I’D LEAVE IT ON THE PLANE. WAIT UNTIL YOU GET TO THE PART …

PM: I’m sorry – I’m enjoying it so far. I’ll make my own judgement. Do you mind if I carry on?

Bull: YOU MUST BE A BIT WEIRD IF YOU LIKE THAT BOOK. IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY!! 

PM: Thanks for that. I’ll be the judge of that.

Bull: NOW HERE’S A GOOD BOOK!

PM: I’m not interested really – I just want to read this.

Bull: WELL THIS ONE IS MUCH BETTER THAN THAT PILE OF CRAP! HERE – TAKE A LOOK!

And so it went on – and on – and on – and on! By the time I had left the plane (the longest two hours of my life) he had told me his entire life story, why he was so great and why I was so weird and had no decent taste in books. Not content with bellowing in my ear for the entire trip, his elbows kept nudging me as we both ate and most of his meal ended up on the back of the seat in front of him.

I’ve seen Bull on a train too – thankfully annoying somebody else. In the UK we have quiet carriages where people are asked to be quiet so that others can read or work in peace. Personally I don’t travel in them because I listen to music and the noise of the headphones can annoy others. Bull shouldn’t travel in them either – but once I saw Bull thrown out of the quiet carriage because, unsurprisingly, he was making far too much noise and totally irritating everybody else. Bull then sat in a seat close to me and told the entire sorry tale to a perfect stranger who wasn’t interested at all but was being polite.

“I JUST STARTED TALKING TO THIS WOMAN AND SHE TOLD ME TO BE QUIET! I KNOW IT’S MEANT TO BE SILENT IN THERE BUT IT WAS LIKE A BLOODY LIBRARY – HOW BORING! ANYWAY, SHE COMPLAINED AND THE GUARD ASKED ME TO SHUT UP AND LEAVE! I DECIDED TO JUST GO! I LIKE TO TALK TO PEOPLE – DON’T YOU? THEY SHOULD CALL IT THE BORING BASTARD CARRIAGE! ANYWAY – WHAT’S YOUR NAME? I’M BULL AND I’M A REALLY FUNNY GUY. OH SORRY - I'VE SPILLED MY DRINK ALL OVER YOUR  BOOK. IT 'S SHIT ANYWAY!"

And so he went on – and on – and on! Thankfully, I could drown his voice out by listening to some rock music. I pitied the poor guy he had inflicted himself upon.

I don’t mind friendly people and I am willing to chat to anybody as long as they are pleasant, quiet, interesting and stop talking when I have had enough and want to read or listen to music.

Bulls don’t do that – they are relentless – they can’t take a hint even when it is blatant. They enter a room like a Bull in a China Shop!

Have you ever met anybody like that? 

How do you deal with them?

I think most British people are too polite and that is why Bull thrives in the UK.

I’m too nice to tell them to just SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Maybe I should do just that.

A Castle

After two depressing posts, I think it’s time to add a little bit of joy to the proceedings.

This year has been shit but in the midst of the manure, I have visited a couple of great little places in England in my quest to see as much of my own country as possible.

The first place is Ludlow, a small market town hidden in the countryside of South Shropshire. It’s a wonderful little place with almost 500 listed buildings, i.e. buildings that have been added to the Statutory List of Buildings of Special Architectural or Historic Interest.

There is also an old medieval castle that has sadly fallen into decline over the years and while it is largely in ruins, it is still interesting enough to visit.

Ludlow is a lovely little town, filled with history and surrounded by verdant countryside that is excellent for a decent ramble on a Saturday morning; a great way to relax if you need to unwind after a stressful week at work.

Mrs PM and I spent the weekend simply walking around, visiting the castle and enjoying hearty English fare washed down with a pint or two of the finest English ale.

Ludlow is home to a couple of interesting structures.

First, Ludlow Castle, initially started way back in 1086, stands over the town like a silent sentinel. It’s fallen into disrepair over the years and is now largely in ruins. However, there is enough present for a stimulating visit.

Originating a couple of hundred years later, St Laurence’s church is also significant building and can be seen from most of the town.

If you are a fan of English architecture, you will love the place.

Here are few photos.

Mrs PM - A Damsel in Distress

A Knight to the Rescue

Finally, I encountered quite an interesting toilet in a pub (I’m sorry to discuss toilets again). This one had beer barrels as urinals with humorous little signs indicating how a man’s liquid waste product can be converted back into ale. I had to break men’s public toilet etiquette rules and risk being thought of as some kind of pervert by taking a photograph in the men’s loo. Thankfully I was alone when I did this. 

Here is the photo.

Which one is used for lager?

The things I do for this blog.

Public Toilet Etiquette (Part Two)

I feel I need to reinforce a rule that I first mentioned in an old blog post about public toilet etiquette. You can read it here.

Yes, I’m sorry, dear reader, but I am once again going to discuss toilets, something foreigners think that British people are obsessed with. I know Americans refer to it as “The Bathroom” and Australians refer to “Dunnies” – but it is what it is – a bloody toilet!

So if you are vaguely offended by discussions about the less attractive necessities of the human body, please stop reading now.

For the rest of you …

In the post mentioned above, I briefly allude to a specific rule. Actually, no – let me be crystal clear about this – it is a specific LAW that, if broken, should result in a hefty fine and nasty slap on the wrist for the perpetrators.

All men know this law; it is written in our DNA.

All women ignore this law and are quite keen to disobey it. In fact, in the female world, it is encouraged to bound over the line of good taste and positively encourage this crime. Women even go to public toilets IN PAIRS to openly break the law and laugh in the faces of any men who dare to speak up against it.

The law is this.

Men must NEVER EVER EVER EVER talk to each other in public toilets. 

I’ve seen women walk into public toilets in pairs, arms linked, chatting away as if they haven’t seen each other for months, to actually talk to each other in adjacent cubicles while answering the call to nature. 

How do they get away with this?

The reason I am writing this post is because a man spoke to me in a public toilet, causing me momentarily to break ANOTHER law before I realised what I was doing.

He said to me (and I still can’t believe this):

“Hey, Dave – fancy meeting you here!”

The law that I broke, in utter shock I hasten to add, was this:

Men must NEVER EVER EVER EVER look at another man in public toilets. 

Male public toilets should be like a library!

I stared at the perpetrator of this heinous crime with a look of shock and disgust. And then I remembered the second law and looked straight at the wall in front of me. Such was the shockwave, that I suddenly lost the ability to pee, and in shame I zipped up and rushed out of the loo only remembering to wash my hands when I reached the door. Having been forced to break the second law, I certainly didn’t want to be chased down by the Health and Safety police for violating their first law of toilet etiquette.

Of course, a few minutes later, my body remembered that I hadn’t quite finished and I found myself going back into the toilet. Anybody who saw me re-enter the loo no more than five minutes after I had been before no doubt thought that I had a strange medical condition requiring me to urinate every five minutes. 

I have only just recovered, dear reader, and am so ashamed of myself that I need to use you as a therapist and let it all hang out, so to speak.

Anyway, now I’ve got this out in the open, I want to reiterate to any potential male public toilet criminals that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES must you EVER EVER EVER talk to another man in a public toilet.

Of course, there may be circumstances where it is absolutely essential, for example if you have been injured or something like that.

In those rare emergency situations you are allowed to say things like:

“I have slipped and hurt my head. Please call the emergency services.”

In fact (and I swear I am not making this up), a poster appeared at work actively encouraging people to talk in the toilet “to be creative and share ideas”. It showed a man washing his hands and an unseen work colleague speaking from an adjacent trap (that’s what we call a “stall” or a “cubicle” – well at least that’s what I call them anyway!).

What on earth were they thinking?

I know there are a number of career public toilet criminals out there who will ignore this post and laugh like Dr Evil.

For the rest of us, you can spot them because they will break the rule in the following ways:

They will speak to you when it is not an emergency.

They will stare at you.

Some will even say terrible things like:

“We must stop meeting like this.”

“Is there any toilet paper in your trap?”

“Wow – that’s very impressive.”

“Do you want me to help you find it?”

“Don’t worry! I’ll turn on the taps when I’ve finished. That should help!”

“I’d give that five minutes if I were you.”

“Have you seen the new Beyoncé video?”

“Sorry about the splashback!”

“Our bodies are totally synchronised.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t flush!”

If you encounter such serial criminals, simply run away. Do not look at them but try to finish what you started; after all, there’s nothing worse than having a little accident because of a toilet talker.

Just remember to wash your hands.