I have just this moment realised I am prejudiced about students
I was reading all the stories and feeling a little blue as I'm not really prejudiced against anyone/thing, which meant I couldn't post a story. Ha.

Then I read Dwarfsmuggler's gripe below, about people who talk like this??? All the time??? And it got me thinking???

I was the only one out of my yam yam speaking mates to not go to uni, which meant I noticed all the more clearly when they would come back for half terms/holidays and would speak like this??? Regardless of the fact that they all went to different Uni's, every single one would come back talking like that, and every single one had also picked up the annoying habit of trying to keep their mouths as still as possible while talking. Therefore I have deduced that it is a University installed accent...or they're trying to invent their own language because, you know??? Students are, like, the most important people in the world??? And if anyone can do it, they can??? Because students are, you know, like, so much better than you???

Bloody students and your stupid ways of talking. You went away for a month and a half and came back talking like a twat. So that's why I am prejudiced against students; that stupid bastard student accent.

My sincere apologies for length/irrelevance. I have a cold and it's sent everything sideways...
(Beacon, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 12:49, 3 replies)

people who wear jeans
BELOW their asscheeks are tools.

i was walking behind one such specimen on the way to the tube today, he was waddling like a duck because his jeans were buttoned underneath his bum. do i really want to see his ass and underwear? no. but man he thought he was teh shit.

all i could think was, where is the village toolbox? i have found a tool that has escaped and needs to be locked back up. i wouldn't give him a job, a pound or even the time of day if he can't even pull his trousers up by himself!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 11:33, 25 replies)

Sean Lock
"'I'm not racist, some of my best friends are black!' You can't really say that as a defence, that's like saying:

'I'm not a murderer, some of my best friends are alive!'

or

'I'm not a Paedophile, some of my best friends are chi...' No, wait a minute, that wouldn't work..."
(stubbledchin, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 11:30, 2 replies)

Don't know if this has been said....
But I have a real prejudice to people who say every sentence as if it were a question??? They really annoy me?? They just come across as sheep that can't get away from a really annoying habit that's manifested itself from watching to much neighbours and home and away
???????

Just stop it, you're embarrassing yourself??
(Dwarfsmuggler Has hogtied Snow White, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 11:19, 6 replies)

The working class
Disease-ridden, filthy, uneducated scum.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 11:04, 6 replies)

I think this one is quite common:
I tut at anyone who posts "First" and "Last", even if there's a decent quip in there; but I also wish it was me nipping in there with the first post. Is that a prejudice, or just double standards?
(The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 10:39, Reply)

Useful meaningless prejudices
Dinosaurs
God
Pixies
Energy
Advertising
Widgets
Birdsong
(roysin, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 10:38, Reply)

Prejudice is everywhere
Let's face it.

So I propose a "World Prejudice Day". On this day we explore our/others' prejudices to the full, let rip, out with it all, bing bang boom.

Let's see how far we've come.

Disclaimer: for purposes of entertainment only, any ensuing armageddon is entirely, er, unfortunate.
(roysin, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 10:16, Reply)

I went to McShitterton Polyversity in London, where everyone was desperate to be proudly working class despite having enough money to move down to London to go to university, and socialist, and obviously hated the middle classes.
My friend Rowanna, however, was a posh loser like myself, and based herself broadly on Eddie from Absolutely Fabulous.

One morning during a lecture, some righteous, worthy sort was giving his presentation on how rap music videos aren't in any way sexist or exploitative, and pontificated that we all understood this, because, y'know, we're all working class here ...

Rowanna, who had been resting her head on the desk trying to deal with another evening spent smoking whatever was available and drinking likewise suddenly raised her head and said loudly, "I'm not fucking working class!" and proceeded to make the point that as students, all of us were now in the middle income, tertiary education bracket, and that all this poncing about trying to claim otherwise was so much pretentious bollocks.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 9:40, 2 replies)

One to finish off with
People who start sentences with any of the following phrases:

"I'm not being funny but..."
"Not being rude, but..."
"No offence meant, but..."
"I'm not racist, but..."

Any of the above phrases means that you immediately prejudice yourself against me as being a mouth-breathing moron, and I will immediately start hunting for a shitty stick to assault you with.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Thu 8 Apr 2010, 9:28, 12 replies)

Facebook...if you go too far.
See, as long as you don't take facebook too seriously, then it's a good time waster for a few minutes. Also like someone mentioned, it's a great way to catch up with distant (physically) relatives for free.

However, once you start to go on facebook daily, develop the Pokemon "Gotta catch 'em all" attitude to collecting "friends", keep telling everyone what you had for breakfast, lunch and tea, or you think you're such a cunting celebrity that all you have to do is post an emoticon as your status update and have the same bunch of people swarm to ask why you're happy today, then you're well and truly a facebook whore.
(DougQuaid Get ya azz to moars..., Thu 8 Apr 2010, 7:23, 10 replies)

Prejudice is a funny old thing ...
And even funnier when you challenge one of your own.

Like most bright kids born to working class parents, I have always wanted to shove the silver spoon down the neck of the rounded vowelled, bow-tied, snort laughing Eton types. Not just because I have had to work very hard to enjoy a level of lifestyle which they were born into. But because I genuinely believed that they equally despised me for my accent and stunning lack of table manners.

/wavy lines

Way back in 2001, I was working as an IT contractor. It was a 3 month contract with a well specified tasklist and good cash ... unfortunately, my direct manager was a sexist, racist, boorish (working class Brummie!) bastard. I won't bore you with any of his daily disparagement. It was a short contract, the work was good, and most of the other staff were smashing.

There was one chap in particular ... who barely spoke a word to me and couldn't look me in the eye. He was a graduate from an elite private, boys-only, boarding school. Finished his education at Eton yadda yadda. And I was a Woman ... in IT ... poor chap had no idea how to speak to me. He was so incredibly shy.

So back to the office floor where Bastard Brummie Boss is about a third of the way through his usual daily appalling, unfunny, offensive rant when the Shy Eton Chap stood up. In the open plan office. Took two steps forward with his trembling balled fists at his side. And he bellowed the most immortal words;

"How DARE you Sir! How DARE you use such uncouth language in the presence of a lady! You Sir! Are a CAD! And a BOUNDER Sir!"

He was furious. And those were the worst words that he knew.

What a treasure. Thank you Shy Eton Chap.
(Que?, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 5:12, 6 replies)

Okay...so...
I've got the most embarrassing story I can possibly imagine to relate.

The other week, I was waiting for the bus. I occasionally commute (travel) between Embra and Glesca; one city I study in, one I live in, or at least my parents do. Anyway, I was waiting to get on the bus when I saw a bunch of foreign looking fellows with large rucksacks board the bus. I spent a while debating with myself whether to get on or not, and in the end I'm ashamed to say I decided not to, based solely on the thought process 'they might blow me up'.

I got on the next bus, and when I arrived at my destination, I saw the same guys pulling their rucksacks off the bus in front of me, conspicuously absent of burn marks and explosions.

This was nowhere near the London bus bombings, either in place or time, I had no reason to suspect that, but I wasted an hour of my life waiting for a bus because the people getting on in front of me were darkies. It's the most embarrassing thing I've ever done and much as I hate to admit it, it does ever so slightly come under the definition of prejudice.
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 4:42, 7 replies)

Middle Class
I'm quite prejudiced against middle class people as in I don't want to be one. The following took place in a pub.

"I'm not middle class - I'm working class. I grew up in a pit village, I lived in a council house, I went to a comprehensive school. I'm as working class as you can get!" I protested.

"Look mate. Your class isn't where you came from. It's where you are now. Look at you. You've got a degree. You wear a suit to work. You work in London and fly back here on weekends. You even own a boat for fucks sake. Middle class" said flatmate.

"Working class" I said stubbornly. "For Christ's sake - I even used to be a card-carrying member of the Labour party!"

"Used to be my" mate said "You're not now..."

"That's because they turned out to a bunch of thieving, lying cunts!!" I spluttered.

"Legless - just face it. You came from the working classes and now you're middle class. You hold dinner parties. Your favourite drink is wine. You cook with herbs."

"What the fuck have herbs got to do with it? I said. "Everyone cooks with herbs"

"Only the middle class" my mate said "The real working class doesn't even know what herbs are"

"Oh bollocks" I said. "You're talking through your arse"

"OK" my mate said. "Ask the barmaid. Go on - ask her a question about herbs."

The barmaid was a hefty lass from a village down the coast. A bit in-bred but nice enough.

"Debs?" I called "Can you explain to my flatmate what oregano is?"

She looked puzzled

"Isn't he one of the Wombles" she called back.

"Middle class" says mate smugly.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 1:38, 8 replies)

According to google trends
"I hate you all" is most popular in the Phillipines. Therefore I shall respond in kind.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 1:12, Reply)

I'm a cornish gal born and bred
And Emmet Season is almost upon us.......
Wearing their "Newquay Lifeguard" hoodies, tossers.
Burnt red raw as they have no idea what that big yellow thing in the sky can do to their skin.
Making their poor kiddies play on the beach in the pissing down rain because "we're on holiday"
Blocking all our car parks, lucky WE know where the secret, cool, LOCALS beaches are. What's left of them anyway.
Jamming up our roads (A30 on a bank holiday Friday anyone?)
The list goes on and on.
The only redeeming feature they have is bringing their lovely cash into our beautiful country. BUT......
Please stop falling in love with my county and buying up second homes here, you're pushing house prices through the roof. I rent, I won't be able to own my own house until at least 3 close family members have died.
I really think we need passport and immigration control at the Tamar........

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmet_(Cornish)

However, if almost a week has gone by and this is all I can think of that bothers me, then yeah, good ol' west country laid-back-ness rules! Just don't be such a tosser when you visit ok?
( user_names_suck, Thu 8 Apr 2010, 0:37, 12 replies)

Sex with a dwarf
I'd be willing to give it a go.

You'd have to be careful though, if you were well endowed, you might give them a collapsed lung.

Thankfully, I'd be lucky to rupture their cervix.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 23:03, 3 replies)

Living one side of an estuary
as a child, I used to get a pair binoculars and see what was happening on the far side. Occasionally there would be a plume of smoke rising from the town over there, presumably a bonfire or something (with adult rear view). As I was young, I would ask my father what was going on (dads know everything, dont they?). I was told that they were "burning missionaries". I still believe that to this day.
(gearanach #wankwankwank, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 22:25, Reply)

Not sure if this counts...
...but the QOTW is nearly over now, so I'm posting it anyway.

When I was 17 I had my first serious boyfriend. During our relationship, I was invited to dinner to meet his parents for the first time. They were really friendly and welcoming, if a bit chavvy. They gave me drink and took me into the living room and we were all doing that polite conversation thing that you do when you meet new people when boyfriend's mother suddenly blurted out;

"Can you eat lasanga? I'm doing one, but I can always freeze it until tomorrow, we can get a takeaway if you prefer, there's a nice one of yours round the corner!" cue boyfriend going bright red and snapping 'Mum!' at her. I politely pointed out that lasanga was fine for me, while wracking my brains wondering what one of 'my' takeaways was. "Okay." She says. "I just thought it might have been a bit English for you." then off she went to the kitchen as if that was a completely normal and reasonable thing to say to her son's girlfriend.

So a little while later we are eating our (english) lasanga and they're asking me about my life and my family and boyfriends Mum asks; "So, where are you from?"
"Oh, not that far from here, I actually live on Blahblah Road."
"Oh, no, I meant where were you born."
"Oxford."
"... Oh." Couple of minutes silence, boyfriend and boyfriend's Dad exchanging looks. "So have you ever visited China?"
"I can't say I have..."
"No? Have you never wanted to go and see where you came from?"
"Um, I come from Oxford."
"But you must have ancestors over there. You're Chinese, aren't you?"
"Um. No."
"Oh." Then she stared at me for about a minute. "No offence luv, but what ARE you?"
"British... but I do have family in Japan."
"Oh, you should have said, I would have done you some rice."

I went out with her son for another six months before we split up and I still bump into her around from time to time. Once she told me to tell "my people" to stop harming dolphins.
(Melody was not PMSing on, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 22:16, 4 replies)

People who have babies. Parents, I s'pose.
I will be the first one to accuse myself of being a miserable munter/minging poo-faced git.
I think that humans in general are pretty awful (I like individuals, though- inconsistent me) and that there are too many of them.

So whenever I see someone with a wee ickle bubba I assume that

a)they think their genetic material is well worth propagating
b)the impact said extra mouth will have on the world is a sore price everybody and everything else will have to pay, but they don't care
c)they have unthinkingly imposed a lifetime of horror (ie. human existence) on some poor bugger who didn't get to fill out an application form, for entirely selfish reasons

and it goes on.

I know most people here probably have a rug-rat or two- even the Ginger Führer. I don't hate you personally, but I cannot for the life of me fathom what you have done, or why. We will never have anything in common, when you come into the shop I will not do special things for you because you think you are special, and I will not talk to you much at the pub. If you are my friend I will likely just fade out of your life when you decide to spawn, leaving you confused and somewhat hurt.

Yes, I know I was a baby once. I suffered this under duress. It wasn't my idea and I didn't like it much.

Yes, the race must continue (apparently) and maybe I should just go out and kill myself, as is so often suggested. Suicide is socially awkward, though, and some (admittedly odd) people who are fond of me would be really upset, so I don't think I'll bother. In the meantime, rejoice in the fact that your kids will have fun in the space that I eventually leave behind. Weirdos.
(lonelybadger, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 21:53, 1 reply)

just overheard my ten year old brother...
" i just HATE the romans because of what they did to the lions..."
(ladyintheradiator, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 20:34, 4 replies)

Immigration
So you've read a couple of newspapers and have had a few conversations in a pub...

Hello, kids. I’m an immigrant. I would like to tell the tale of My Immigration.

I arrived in this country on a tourist visa from the United States. This allowed me three months to look at pretty things. Pretty things included a boy who was very nice indeed and, at the end of that three months, I decided to stay.

Well, kids, I wasn’t highly skilled enough (what with advanced degrees, publications, 6 years of experience and expertise in an area of ‘need’ as outlined by the Home Office points-based system for economic migration – see www.ukba.homeoffice.gov.uk/pointscalculator to see if you’re qualified enough to immigrate to your own country!) in the eyes of the angry eyes of the British Government, so my only recourse was to become a student. I received a one year student visa without recourse to public funds or work at a cost of £295. Well, a one year visa isn’t enough to do a degree and to get a boy to make an honest woman of you, so after a year of living in absolute squalor because of that whole not working thing, I re-applied for a two-year student visa so I could finish my course. Lo, that visa was denied because my main bank account did not reside in the United Kingdom. In order to avoid deportation, I slogged my way to Croydon to make an in-person application at the rate of £500. This time, I had recourse to work a maximum of 20 hours per week, all the while paying international fees towards the university.

My course finished and The Boy and I declared undying love to one another. This required me to receive a visa befitting of a fiancée. To do this, I was not allowed to do so within the United Kingdom, as I did not qualify under ‘exceptional circumstances’. To avoid paying the fee to become a registered fiancée with the British Government, the boy and I got married in Las Vegas, which, I might add, as I was no longer a resident of the United States and not allowed under law to get married in the United Kingdom, was the only place I could do so. With plane fares and hotel fees reaching £3000 to merely tie the knot in un-exceptional circumstances, the extra fee of £1030 for the required in-person application for limited two year entry clearance into the United Kingdom was most unwelcome.

I was allowed to work full-time, which was most welcome, but had no recourse to public funds (dole, job-seekers, housing benefits, child benefits, disability). After two years, I was allowed to apply for Indefinite Leave to Remain, which costs £585. This is where I now stand. I still don’t have access to the aforementioned public funds, which would be a right pain in the arse if I broke my back, had a baby or lost my job.

The total cost of visas has been £2705. This, just so I could get married and stay married. This doesn’t include, of course incidental costs which reach into the thousands.

And you say immigration is easy? And you wonder why people try to screw the system to live here illegally? I am a nice middle-class girl with lots of education and a pretty white skin, yet I faced an uphill immigration battle from the moment I arrived.

And this started pre-911 and before Labour’s many immigration reforms, which have made the process even more difficult.

After the difficulty and cost of immigration, I now volunteer with asylum seeker (also, there is no such thing as an ‘illegal’ asylum seeker, as it is a legal status according to the UK Home Office) and refugee organisations. These are the people who are truly in need of our help.

I won’t even get started on the current absurd hurdles and impossibilities of achieving this status; or how the government imprisons children and babies in detention centres; or how I’ve seen families decide to not eat for a week so they can afford the train fare to Cardiff for their hearings; or how you can be denied asylum status because when you knock on that immigration door with an entire family’s worth of death and torture but without a clue of what to do, you don’t claim it within 24 hours; or how the British public hate for lack of integration, yet lash out when they do try to integrate; or how a family can still be legally destitute even after achieving refugee status; or how they are offered the worst available housing as default; or how on a daily basis they are screwed over by unscrupulous people in shops; or the constant fear and desperation they experience even a decade after arriving; or how pretty much everything that has been said in posts here, in the Daily Mail and up and down the land is almost complete bullshit, despite bullshit bleatings about anecdotal evidence.

Yeah, anybody can say I know a pig farmer, but unless you’ve actually worked on a pig farm, you haven’t the bloody slightest clue about what being a pig farmer is all about.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 18:47, 23 replies)

People who have no other conversation other than
FACEBOOK! Or specifically the people who use then talk about it and use it like it’s a portal to another world.

No it’s not. It’s your friends and family you ring if you want to know something or speak to them and a bunch of people you barely know.

I am not ashamed to say it I don't like face book. I not interested in reading about if someone I went to school with is 'thinking happy thoughts' with tiny stars and kisses either side. Or if my mum’s next door neighbour’s daughter is eating a bacon sandwich because she is sooooo hung over, even if it is the bestest best bacon sandwich ever. It just makes me want to poke her eye out with a dismembered cock.

For me Facebook sums up all that is wrong with the society we have created – you can be a celebrity you have your own captive audience your ‘friends’ put photos of your self for your fans to admire and of course tell them all about your super hectic social life but don’t forget you, the spiritual and emotion you. How you are super positive with a deep understanding of your self and closeness to animals and mother-nature with picture of you snuggling a teddy bear and a couple of apps that send all your friends annoying daily messages and a picture of something new age looking.

My prejudice is FACEBOOK ALRIGHT and I might not have as much respect for you as I once did if you tell me you use facebook.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 17:35, 8 replies)

The other week I hitch hiked to Budapest
for charity and all that. After a week of being turned down by grumpy looking people all over Europe, I resolved to do my bit and pick up any hitchers I saw.

Driving up the M1 this morning, I saw two of them as I was pulling out of Watford Gap services, and in the second or two I had to look them over, decided that I didn't want them in my car.

The only reason I can think I did this is because the guy holding the sign had a faceful of metal piercings.

I'm sure they were lovely people, and I felt a bit guilty all the way back up to Sheffield :( I guess I'm just a bad person.
( The Coast Of Yemen, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 17:14, 11 replies)

Not sure if there's any special prejudice against Brummie Asian taxi drivers
but I think they're great!

Some years ago I was sent by Social Services to collect an underage girl from police custody in Birmingham.

(They used to abscond from the kids' home and go on the game for a bit, thinking it was a lark, until they had the shit thoroughly scared out of them and turned themselves in to the police.)

I arrived in Brum about 2am, no satnavs or mobile phones in those days, and found myself, er, lost.

Spotting a petrol station, I pulled in and popped inside to ask directions. There were several taxis parked outside, with drivers leaning on them chatting. They looked at me curiously (this was 2am and I was a female far from home!) and I thought, ooer...

To cut a longish story short*, an Asian taxi driver heard me asking for directions and told me that I shouldn't be driving around that rather rough area alone, as I wasn't really safe, especially as I didn't know where I was going!

We went outside and he discussed it with the others, who agreed, and two of them then insisted on escorting me all the way to Rose Road police station, one driving in front and one behind, just in case I got lost again.

I will always feel almost pathetically grateful to those public-spirited Asian taxi drivers. What perfect gentlemen.

*full story available on request: continues after Asian taxi drivers' intervention.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 16:50, 5 replies)

People who disagree with me
I can't help feel that people who disagree with me, or even hold an opinion which I don't, are somehow mentally touched in the head.
( Sextant goes to him is emotionally erect, on this day, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 15:54, 2 replies)

I was
smoking a cigarette with an Asian colleague/friend outside work, when a guy approached him and said, "Wow you were quick; I only called you 5 minutes ago". I had to interject at this point and let him know, that the vehicle that had taxi conveniently stamped down the side of it, with driver waiting inside, was indeed the chariot he was waiting for......felt a bit sorry for the guy because it was a genuine mistake.

My mate saw the funny side of it (I think) but the guy was so embarrassed he covered his face all the way to the taxi and was still covering it as the taxi pulled off.

PS not prejudice really but stereotyping
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 15:19, 14 replies)

Other people
If you are not me, then I probably won't like you much. I will think that you are not very bright, and probably very boring. I won't want to engage with you. I might cross the road to avoid you, or listening to my iPod, or just pretend you are not there.

I'm pretty sure, as Sartre said, that other people are cunts (might be paraphrasing a bit).
( Sextant goes to him is emotionally erect, on this day, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 15:11, 2 replies)

To my way of thinking...
...there are essentially three distinct types of people in the world; humans, chavs and corporate directors.

Humans are the largest and most diverse group and I generally have no problem with them. Ethnicity, religion, political views, sexual orientation, general level of intellect or any other sub-distinctions are basically irrelevant. Every human shares one basic need - to be recognised and treated as such. If you respect and cater (note that there is a fine line between 'respect and cater' and 'revere and coddle') to this need then for the most part, you'll get on with them and they'll get on with you. I'd estimate that there are about 5 percent who are hopeless arseholes but even these have this need and it can be invoked just the same - they just take a bit more work.

Chavs on the other hand are total cunts to a man. They don't think the same as humans. They do possess what I'll call the universal need but they only accept interaction with it from thier own kind. Any attempt by a non-chav to engage them is usually fruitless, frustrating, often painful and occasionally fatal. One trait that chavs share in common amongst themselves is staunch anti-intellectualism. They strive to remain as ignorant, uneducated and essentially thick-as-pigshit as they can, regardless of individual capabilities and they regard this willing mental retardation as an advantage to be cherished and displayed at every opportunity. Anti-intellectualism also bleeds into general social skills also, with any discourse requiring more than a grunt or an 'innit' rejected as unnecesarry and further compounding thier isolation from humankind. Additionally, chavs have an entirely different view of the meaning of achievement; for the result of any given action to qualify as an achievement, then it must without exception carry some degree of what most humans would call negative karma. That is, the event must benefit the individual chav but simultaneously result in unnecesarry loss, cost, harm or despair to others, human or otherwise. Indeed, total negation of any foresight or hindsight that would enable the appreciation of consequences is a mandatory component of the chav mindset - what I call the 'shit happens' approach - a key factor in the reduction of internal guilt for thier M.O. And as for the way they dress... christ on a fucking bike :/

And then we have corporate directors. The smallest group of the three which exhibits both human and chav traits, albeit applying each in different ways toward different objectives. They again possess the universal need, but like chavs, interraction with it is only viable with others of thier own kind but thankfully outsider fatalities are very rare. Again as with chavs, non-directors are viewed as inferior but are treated with condescension rather than contempt, though this is born of ignorance just the same. It is this ignorance and factors of it that place coroprate directors outside the sphere of humanity, though not as far outside as chavs. Corporate directors possess higher levels of intellect and social grace than chavs and even some humans (though these qualities are not essential) but these are offset by the aforementioned ignorance and the compulsory requirement to express oneself using only idiotic non-sequitur platitudes and meaningless management-speak gibberish. These filters on expression apply also to cognition as any information conveyed to them that doesn't utilise these principles is barely digested, if at all. Whilst all chavs are cunts without exception, corporate directors posess the unique ability to switch between 'cunt' and 'not so much of a cunt' at will. Once again, like chavs a corporate director's world-view is keyed exclusively to thier own benefit above all else.

So, three groups that don't mix. The question is, what can we do to heal our fragmented society and become a world of shinyhappypeopleholdinghands? Well, here's my stab at it.

HUMANS - Some work required. Mandatory appreciation of the universal need is half of the battle, and a universally-legible medium of communication is the other half.
CHAVS - Lost cause. Deport them all to some anthrax island so they can continue to de-evolve without dragging everyone else down with them.
CORPORATE DIRECTORS - Barely human, but not beyond saving. Re-education with emphasis on the universal need, the importance of plain English and a side-topic of 'money isn't everything you fucking tool' will get the ball rolling, and the rest should take care of itself.

So, am I prejudiced? Oh yes, but the subjects of my prejudice are more than culpable to it, I feel.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Wed 7 Apr 2010, 14:59, 2 replies)