Advertising

When used appropriately advertisement is a wonderful thing. One company gets its name out in the open, another company makes money and I am gently informed of an item or service I may want or need. Fine, everybody wins, but this is not how adverts work now. I can stand adverts for films or television programs, tourism adverts, all the adverts that put their best stuff on show so I may be interested and then make a decision based on how much I need/want the thing, how I will fare without it and if I can afford it. What is not alright are the adverts that carry the message "THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN POSSIBLY SURVIVE A DAY LONGER IS WITH THIS PRODUCT!!!!" The main culprit here is adverts for detergents and disinfectants.

In the least sexist way possible these adverts are aimed at stupid housewives. A recent disinfectant advert claimed that a kitchen chopping board has more bacteria living on it than a toilet seat. Shock horror, women everywhere were just about to take that evening's ingredients for dinner to the bathroom to resume chopping it up on the toilet seat. BUT WAIT, this new disinfectant can kill 99.9% of the bacteria on your chopping board making it safe for you to use it again. PHEW. Hang on, if this little fact is true then why have I not died as a result of a horrific disease caught from the bacteria on the chopping board?

As a fairly amateur biologist I can explain everything that is wrong with this advert. Firstly if there are more bacteria on the chopping board than the toilet seat then this has been the case for many many years and is clearly the way it is meant to be, there is more bacteria on the human skin than there is on the toilet seat and the chopping board put together, quickly, disinfect you skin now to the extent it burns off horribly, but at least those bacteria are dead! Secondly, not all bacteria are bad, quite the opposite, a tiny fraction (less than 1%) of bacteria are harmful in anyway at all, obviously certain places contain a higher proportion of the bad bacteria. The toilet seat obviously has a higher proportion of bad bacteria than a chopping board or the human skin, chopping board bacteria are completely harmless. Thirdly, the only thing preventing the bad bacteria from taking 100% of the chopping board is all the space already taken up by the good bacteria. So here's an idea, spray it with a disinfectant that kills 99.9% of all bacteria. Guess what, that 0.1% is almost certainly the hardiest, roughest, toughest bad bacteria going, and now it has the whole chopping board to itself "brilliant," it must think, "that daft old tart just killed off all the competition, this chopping board belongs to me!"

My next quibble is with automatic soap dispensers. I have no problem with soap, I would be pretty unpopular if I did. This soap may be in the form of a bar or in a squirt bottle, again, no problems so far. Advertisement, here is where the problem begins. A company has developed a new bottle that dispenses liquid soap automatically when its motion detector detects that something has been put beneath it. How did they market this? "Did you know that your soap pump harbours bacteria and may have more bacteria on it than a toilet bowl? This transfers on to your hands when you press the soap pump." Right, let me break this down again. Firstly, so what? Am I not about to wash my hand with the soap that you claim kills this bacteria on my hands? Getting a little bit of extra bacteria on my hands BEFORE I wash them is going to make no difference at all. Secondly, what about the tap? Surely this has the same amount of bacteria too, and I have to touch that to turn it off and that will be after I wash my hands. Oh damn, a conundrum, I could compulsively scrub my hands repeatedly, buy a motion-sensitive tap or GET ON WITH MY LIFE BECAUSE IT DOES NOT MATTER?! It just preys upon the germophopic and the uneducated.

My final grievance is with an advert for an oven cleaner. The product's slogan was "So easy a man could do it" I'm up for a bit of casual sexism but we live in a politically correct world and how would this be treated if it was in the reverse? Can you imagine the controversy of an advert with the slogan "This car is so easy to drive a woman could do it" or "This computer is so easy to use a woman could do it"? There would be absolute uproar so why is the oven cleaner one acceptable? This got me so worked up that I..I..I..considered writing a strongly worded letter. I didn't though.

Gah, adverts!

No Extra Time

This could be a post about how I have no spare time to get anything done, I am running far too close to a deadline or I feel my time is running out. It is none of these, it is another anti-Seppitic rant at my least favourite FIFA President. The power hungry moron that is Sepp Blatter has come up with yet another game destroying idea, to get rid of extra time and go straight to penalties in the event of a draw in a cup tie. His reasoning behind this is to make cup games more interesting since it will stop teams from "parking the bus in front of the goal" or playing very defensively for those less up to speed with football terminology. On par with his usual ideas this one is just silly. (I am toning down the language after an incident involving one of my posts being published in the school sports newspaper without being edited. The Headmaster reads it, need I say more?)

Anyway, how is making a match shorter going to prevent teams playing defensively? If anything it will encourage teams to play more defensively since they have to defend for considerably less time than before. Not only this but I have never liked penalties as a way of deciding a match, the World Cup final of 2006 was a perfect example of this, the most important game in the world should not be decided by what is ultimately luck. If penalties were more skill than luck then Everton and Liverpool would undoubtedly still be in the Carling Cup. If anything Sepp, come up with a better solution than penalties, if you did I would forgive you for all of your footballing sins.

While I'm on the topic of Blatter I will pick out another of his outrageous comments. He has suggested that in Women's football they should be forced to wear tighter tops to make it more interesting to watch. Sepp you dirty old pervert, this is the 21st Century, you can't just dress women how you want and watch them run around. It's like saying newsreaders should be naked to make the news more interesting (Trevor McDonald naked, I cringe just thinking about it), or teachers to make lessons more interesting, or magazines to make the articles more...oh.

You may ask why noone stands against him in the Presidential election, he bribes the board that are in charge of voting in a subtle, clever and underhand way.

Someone stop this lunatic, dead or alive.

People - negatives

I do not love all people who have the pleasure of walking through my life. Some people really make my blood boil. If I suddenly die of a high blood pressure related illness then theses will be the people to blame.

My morning often starts with my body being filled with rage. This is due to a group of girls from the local Catholic school. This Catholic school is so local that it takes just five minutes to walk to from my bus stop. Obviously I do not have a problem with these girls using the bus if they are coming from a long distance away, that is what buses are for. What is not alright is for loads of these girls to walk out of the station (which is just opposite the bus stop) and wait for the bus. There is a group of around fifteen girls that do this (often preceded by a trip to the bakery to eat 4 danish pastries before school). It is a 5 minute walk, because of traffic the bus usually takes 2 minutes, the wait is usually 10 minutes. They take 12 minutes to do a 5 minute journey because they are so bloody lazy! What is even worse is when the bus refuses to let us on because there are too many of these girls so the three regulars who have much further to go on the bus (including myself) have to be late and the girls just take the short walk. The worst occurrence ever was when I was at the bus stop with my dad, the bus stopped and let people on, just before we were about to get on, the driver said "Sorry, no more room" and we had to wait, just for having some manners. If I ever go on a killing spree, they will be the first to go.

In Year 10, we got a new librarian at school, she was the scariest woman in the world, to the extent that I was scared to go in there. We called her the dragon, the witch, the bitch and all sorts of names. From the moment I entered the Sixth Form this instantly changed, she suddenly became the nicest woman in the world, always keen to help, recommend books, talk to you about work and future prospects, what a transformation! I happened to be working in there while she was giving an induction to the new Year 7s and she was instantly terrifying again, she must dislike children. I'm not sure why this is in negatives, she is lovely now.

Another is a fat Irishwoman who comes into work sometimes, she clears out our reduced cakes, complains about the cakes that aren't reduced and doesn't say thank you once you have served her. Once she has paid, I always pray she pays at the till and not at my bakery till, she will stand just inside the door checking her receipt. Nothing had come up before but recently she found a discrepancy and demanded a refund. She was overcharged. We were shocked. How could we have done this? We had overcharged her! BY FOUR FUCKING PENCE! It doesn't help that she is the rudest woman in the world. I was under the impression that the Irish and fat people are jolly, she should be doubly jolly!

What really kills me is people walking on the pavement antisocially. By this I mean slow walkers, people in groups that span the entire pavement, people who walk right down the middle of the pavement towards you forcing you into the road or against a wall, people who don't control their dogs and people who don't smile back. Not to worry, I have prepared a solution, The Walking License. In order to walk in public places a person must hold a Walking License which can be obtained by passing The Walking Test. Those without licenses may only walk with those who have (maximum ratio of holders:not = 1:3) and display a large L on their front and back. If anyone breaks this law they will be slapped with a fine of £100 and banned from walking between 6pm and 7am. The Walking Test is very simple, you must demonstrate your ability to follow the rules of the pavement and pedestrian etiquette. When I'm in charge, things will be different.

Ahhhhhhhhh, people.

People - positives

People, we are surrounded by them, we get to enjoy them/have to put up with them almost all the time. The bus is a particularly good source of people related entertainment, you see the regular crazies and the one of lunatics.

One of my favourite regulars is a man who gets on the bus towards the end of my journey to school, presumably going to work since he is so regular. He is ALWAYS wearing shorts, from the hottest day in Summer to the snowy days in Winter, he will be wearing shorts. These aren't just shorts, these shorts are the liveliest, most colourful and exciting shorts in the history of mankind, they make my flambouyant shirts look quite modest. It is part of my daily routine to check his shorts and they brighten me up. What I have failed to mention is that he is the least interesting looking man you will ever see. Bald, short and stout, his shorts are so out of character that they define him! One day he was wearing trousers, I was distraught. I'm not going to lie, I considered suicide that morning.

Another of my favourite bus people I see less often is in fact a bus driver. He has the most amazing hair: big, blond and curly. When driving the bus he squashes it all down beneath a little blue cap. When I get on the bus in the morning and say "Morning" in my usual upbeat way, he tips his cap and says "morning" right back. He was already quite high up in my legend charts but today skyrocketed him to the top. When at my stop he took out the change tray from its slot and filled it up with Peanut M&Ms and then put it back. He has a food stash in his driver cabin!

I have saved my two favourite people for last. They are the husband and wife that own my local dry cleaners. Every time I walk past they will wave and say hello, if they are working on something they will drop everything to wave at me. When I am in less of a rush I stand and chat to them and the man goes "Hello there Mr Robinson, how is school?" They asked about my grades on results day and are interested in what I hope to do. One of the best things he has ever said is "I am going to be very sad when you go to University and you do not walk past everyday."

I love people.

Family Holiday #2

Just nine days after returning from the ordeals already described my family embarked upon another. This one was a venture to the Loir Valley near Le Mans in central France with my mum's family, consisting of 3 of her brothers and their wives and children, a sister-in-law with husband and children, one of my cousin's girlfriend and a friend of my uncle. In all, 25 of us. This is a lot of people to have in one house, which is the exact reason we didn't stay in a house, we stayed in a Chateaus that used to be a monastery. This place was owned by a man called Claude, what else? He was quite possibly the Frenchest man in the world, his dog was called Fifi.

The house was a typical horror film location, caves underneath, a massive woods, dark hallways, bats and secret passageways. The house maintained by a team of zombie like people, led by the one we nicknamed Igor. We even considered making a Blair Witch Project.

I was in a room with my three oldest cousins and my brother, it was a great laugh, the lights were on a bare cable so we did tricks that made it spark. The room had the noisiest door known to man so if anyone used the door the whole room would be woken up. This however was nothing compared to the dog, it was a very clever dog but did not manage to grasp the fact that the alternate door was locked. It would throw itself up against it repeatedly in an attempt to get in, scaring the hell out of all of us, especially since it would grab the handle and we could see the handle turning. I hate dogs. The cat I preferred, it would get in through the window and pad around the room before snuggling up to one of us in bed and purring. It would switch beds quite often and was lovely (must not make a pussy joke).

My memory of the week is somewhat impaired by the fact I spent the majority of the time drinking. What I remember vividly is the cooking, it takes a lot of time and manpower to feed 25 people all at once. The system was that each individual family was responsible for one meal and anyone else could chip in. My family did meatball, hand made. In all we made 211 meatballs, made gallons of delicious sauce and served up lashing of spaghetti. The meal lasted us 3 days, meatballs for dinner, meatball subs the next day and the remaining sauce used to add taste to the youngest children's dinner the next day. Due to my skills I was put in charge of subs, I made 25 meatball subs in under an hour, who says I learn nothing at work?

We decided to take a guided tour of the caves from Claude, it was unbelievably fascinating. He showed us the burial sites for Monks who had lived there, the places where French people had taken cover from bombs in World War Two and where Jews were hidden from the Nazis. He then went on to describe the religious experiences he had had whilst down there, involving a secret room that only the enlightened could find, a massive, multiple headed moving statue and all sorts of weird stories. I'm a religious man but I didn't quite believe him, he was a massive stoner! He would quite often disappear up to his room with his girlfriend and they would both come down looking flushed and completely out of it.

After this one week I could happily never eat another croissant or baguette in my life.

Family Holiday #1

In my family we make an annual trip to West Wittering beach and stay in some cottages in Apuldram/Appledram/Apaldrum (it is spelt three different ways). This isn't just with my immediate family, this is with grandparents, auntie, uncle and cousin. I love my family but they are very hard to put up with.

I will start with Auntie Boob-job, she went from very flat-chested to ridiculously gifted in the boob department, doesn't help that she wears the lowest cut tops known to man and a very small bikini on the beach. To be fair it is very entertaining to throw ice cubes down her cleavage when we go out for a meal, my brother and I compete against each other. All this considered, the negatives outweigh the benefits...unless you ask my uncle.

I will now move on to my demon cousin, she is a nightmare, she screams and runs about shouting although this is actually when she is at her most bearable. What is horrible is when she hits me, repeatedly, obviously I can't hit back...despite the constant urge to knock her unconscious. Since she is "a little princess" she does what she likes including trying to drive me insane. It's not even like she doesn't understand that she is driving me mad, I had the following conversation with her:

"Doe (Joe), can I annoy you please?"
"No"

"Well I'm going to."

Little devil, she can say her J's, she just calls me Doe to annoy me. I tried restraining her, politely asking her to stop and finally shouting at her. None of this worked, her parents very rarely stepped in so I took a gamble with another tactic. I played dead. At first this seemed like a bad move, she continued to hit and scratch and move ever closer to my breaking point. Somehow This method prevailed, she very quickly got bored and wandered off, perhaps to play in some traffic. Another small child successfully outsmarted.

Last but not least is Mad Nanny, this may sound quite flippant and cruel but her dementia has got to a stage where all we can do is laugh to stop it getting us down. She has even developed a hatred for my mum (her daughter-in-law) which may have developed recently or been hidden for many years. What makes it even worse is one of her safe-objects (something that helps her remember things) is her cat. It had to be put down while we were away because of bladder cancer. My dad even managed to make a joke of this by pretending to ring my granddad at 1 in the morning and saying "Meow...I've not been feeling too good today" in a very high pitched and cattish voice.

We went to the beach and as usual we built elaborate and enormous sand castles in the vain hope of beating the incoming tide and having a strong enough structure to survive the sea. The usual procedure is some sort of tall structure in the middle surrounded by a very high wall. This is all perfectly logical. What makes no sense is building a moat. This makes the walls more structurally unsound and provides the sea with a quicker way to penetrate other parts of the castle. It makes no sense.

Unfortunately our first castle, complete with walls, central structure, sand-tanks and a sand-dalek was destroyed by the demon cousin before the sea had a chance. My dad, granddad, uncle, friend and I (the architects and builders) were devastated. My half-serious-half-joking idea to fill tomorrow's castle with sharp stones and broken glass was actually considered.

Well that was 4 days in Wittering with my Dad's family, bring on a week in France with my Mum's family

"The man"

Recently it has dawned upon me that I must be getting older, not just this but looking older as well. This is mainly due to the frequency of how often I am referred to as "the man". At work, hardly a shift goes by without a mother saying to their child "give your money to the man" or "say thank you to the man". I am quite often travelling on a train when a parent will say to her children "mind the man" or "quiet down, you will disturb the man".

Dara O'Briain did a terrific stand up routine on being used as a threat by other people. When a mother says to her noisy child "quiet down, you are disturbing the man" he should perhaps glare at the child, if the threat is used again he should perhaps growl and on a third time get up and bash the child around shouting "you were warned, the man is disturbed and now you must pay for I, am the man." Obviously this is probably not what I would do, as "the man", if I were to be disturbed. When I am at work, I work on the bakery and patisserie so have a lot of mothers and children so a lot of "the man" takes place. At first I would look puzzled at being referred to as the man because in my own head I am about 14 so still very much not the man. Now it has become commonplace so I am used to it, but I still feel I have to live up to the title so puff out my chest and speak in a very deep voice "thank you for this money in exchange for your gingerbread man, here is your change, I am the man". I don't really, but in my head I do.

One thing I forgot to mention about where I work is how freaked out I get when strangers call me by my name. When they say thank you it is often accompanied by my name. I get a lot of this but have still not got used to all the "Thank you Joe"s. Every now and then it occurs to me that I am wearing a name-badge, I am still suspicious of them all.