Swearing at random strangers
Preferably at railway stations / foreign airports.

This I do for kicks. God and my one-60th-of-Shropshire-owning family, plus of course good old sphincter-stretching public school inflicted on me a completely ridiculous accent. I tried to shake it, but couldn't and now can't be arsed. Especially when I'm drunk I say things like "haice" for "house", "ears" for "yes" and "nehho certainly bloody nort" for "no". I know the ghastly middle-class despises swearing, so whenever I meet an example I cannot stop myself from saying fuck repeatedly, even if it's interviewing me for a job. I love watching in its face the conflict between the desperate urge to doff-cap or tug-forelock and the equally shrill and impetuous desire to inflict upon me its petty, conceited and ghastly little set of values. Canting ruining drivelling snotty bastards.

I can't remember the last time I made myself a meal that wasn't breakfast. I have huge debts because I buy most of my meals at the various eateries of the Fulham road. Also I can't remember the last time I washed any of my clothes. Apart from funerals/weddings, I don't think I've worn a suit since my finals. I get a stiffy when I kill defenseless animals. My father is a baronet and I'm the younger brother so I won't inherit. Fucks me off, that. Fucking "Mr.", indeed, just like some ghastly fat plebeian peonic pick-up-truck-driving shaven-headed squat ugly builder.

This set of attributes and what the odious middle-classes call "value-judgements", and an ancestry that goes back a few hundred years before 1066 means I am as posh as I am repulsive and as aristocratic as I am physically dirty and mentally unhinged.
(petrofski, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 0:00, Reply)