Friday, January 12, 2007

Ten thoughts on being an English bloke

I found this "How to be an English Bloke" on a techy blog, here, but wanted to share it with you.

CALLING SOMEONE 'SON' - Especially policeman but even saying it to kids makes you the man.
DRINKING UP - Specifically, rising from the table, slinging your coat on and downing two thirds of a pint in one fluid movement. Then nodding towards the door, saying, "Let's go" and striding out while everyone else struggles to catch up with you. God, you're hard.
NODDING AT COPPERS - A moments eye contact is all it takes for you to share the unspoken bond. "We've not seen eye to eye in the past", it says, "but someone's got to keep the little scrotes in line".
ARRIVING IN A PUB LATE... and everyone cheers you. It doesn't mean you're popular, it just means your mates are pissed. However, the rest of the pub doesn't know that.
NOT WATCHING YOUR WEIGHT - fat is a feminist issue, apparently. Brilliant. Pass the pork scratchings.
CARVING THE ROAST - and saying "are you a leg or breast man" to the blokes and "do you want stuffing" to the women. Congratulations, you are now your dad.
TEST SWINGING HAMMERS - ideally, B&Q would have little changing rooms with mirrors so you could see how rugged you look with any DIY item. Until then, we'll make do with the aisles.
PHONE CALLS THAT LAST LESS THAN A MINUTE - unlike birds, we get straight to the point. "alright? Yep. Drink? Red lion? George, it is then. Seven. Seeya."
HAVING SOMETHING PROPERLY WRONG WITH YOU - especially if you didn't make a fuss. "Why was I off, nothing much, just a brain haemorrhage".
CALLING YOUR MATE A C_*T - and punching him on the shoulder. Just a man's way of saying "you're a good mate; I missed you while you were in hospital".


Anonymous said...

Maybe in a little corner of Essex or maybe ten years ago but haven't we moved on from this? Especially in the Northwest?

It takes blood and guts to be this cool but are we still just cliches?

Michael Taylor said...

No, this is how it is.

Anonymous said...

Ha! Ha! I suppose you could be right - just off to the pub in my Capri - ten pints, a fight (like the Sweeney), bag a couple of birds and then back to the missus...

Wish I was back there...?