Poor Man About Town

I have been trying extremely hard to put my finger on the nouveau middle class and it exists right under my nose - snobbery, questionable liberal politics, insufferable parents, ponsification, boredom, bullshit, ersatz rusticity, gobshite, cheese shops, the Guardian Newspaper and M & S. In the past ten years, these buggers have descended on the enclave of East Dulwich, a frontier town - some blacks but not too many, ideal for the liberal couple who will not feel that they will have their personal values compromised by the unpleasant activities which are perpetrated by street gangstaz.

They can have their cheese shop, deli, organic butcher with sourced (great bullshit word to pander to the Dullie) produce (another bullshit word).

Every so often I go shopping in Sainsbury's in Dog Kennel Hill; it's like going to the baboon enclosure of a safari park - it's full of fucking Dullies!. Their behaviour and conduct leaves much to be desired - they don't give a shit for their fellow Dullies let alone a rent-paying pleb like me. They barge their trolley in front of you expecting you to get out of the fucking way. Barging in front of you when you are looking at items on the shelves - no "excuse me" nothing. They're completely vicious.

I went to a party thrown by a Dullie, the conversation was around house prices, design and how fucking nice their how looked, how fucking clever their horrible children are, the exclusive schools they're attending; the holidays off the beaten track; all the vacuuous shallow bullshit. The conversation had as much humour and wit as a motto on a Christmas Cracker. It was so dull that a stink bomb would not have gone amiss at said party. I got so bored, bored, bored, that I left the party buggered off home and watched the telly.

Catherine Tate gives a very funny example of a Dullie, here it is:


Read about one Dullie's unfortunate experience of having to suffer the indignity of travelling on a bus and coming up close to one of the great unwashed

Also have a look at this interminable video - it is a Dullie with a Camcorder showing us around her new home.

Labels: bullshit, East Dulwich, M and S, sainsbury's, snobbery, snobs, snootiness, snooty, stuck-up, the middle class

It's extraordinary how commercial interests are forming the culture of the New Middle Class - from baby clothes to houses. Everything flat-packed and accessible - easy to follow instructions.

Now we are saturated with ads on tv plugging the modern designed kitchen, Magnet is displaying these dreadful advertisements of young, rich middle class people enjoying themselves in the kitchen. Fucking hell, haven't these buggers got an entire house in a stunning new development to have fun. No, Magnet see things differently, you can have "a media centre" (telly) with all the bullshit in the kitchen. You can spill alcohol and behave like an obnoxious boor. You can invite a designer into your house to have this must have lifestyle fascism accessory.

It's fucking rich that these installations leave a huge carbon footprint the size of a small village in The Peoples' Republic of China.

It's fucking bullshit.

Labels: commercials, Design, fascism, Lifestyle, Television

See previous post on subject - Christmas is just bullshit!

I was listening to Nick Ferrari earlier this week, he did a review of the past year; one of the topics of discussion was Blair, he had a retinue of several political pundits commenting on his tenure in office. All said he did not do enough Thatcherism but fucked up big time in Iraq. Hang on, what are these bozos on about - not doing enough Thatcherism, that's a bit like a trio of junkies commenting on a friend who died of a drug overdose not doing enough heroine. Fucking marvelous. Then Nick Ferrari invited people to phone in to comment, hardly any supported Blair and Nick put paid to their detractions fairly quickly. I think the topic came quickly to a close. It seemed as if the production team were expecting loads of people to phone to say what a swell guy Blair is.

Labels: Blair, British Politics, LBC, Nick Ferrari, Radio

There is a lot of snob value in the French Language. GCSE O Level is spoken and understood by only those who have learned it. Trust me, I have been to France on numerous occasions and my O Level French is always met with the incredulity that I may as well be speaking Classical Hebrew. I tried this tack in Paris, I spoke O Level French through the nose and successfully got une biere, une chambre dans l'hotel, un cafe.

When I read Tolstoy's War and Peace, the main characters were conversing with each other in French; it was Tolstoy's mechanism that the aristocracy and rich people separated themselves from the Russian Plebs. The richest irony in the book is that the Napoleonic Army invades the land and poses this class under immediate threat.

I was in Dulwich today, discovered that a hairdresser was called "Coiffure" and a baby accessory shop called Jojo Maman Bébé. (Who the fuck is Jojo?, the erstwhile Dad who's done a bunk on the child maintenance?) There is a burgeoning snob community in East Dulwich. Anything like this would pander to this breed of people who are no doubt New Model Parents, M & S shoppers and all the bullshit which comes with them.

Labels: Class, consumerism, french language, snob, snobbery

I was at New Cross this morning waiting for the bus, pelting down with rain. It was 9.30. There was Beer Can Man attempting to shake hands with people in the bus shelter. He was wielding a tin of Carlsberg Special Brew. He was all smiles and full of that menacing bonhomie that one associates with street drunks. The people in the bus queue attempted to ignore him but this was like trying to ignore someone with a loaded gun. He tired of his feigned friendliness and had a fight with a lamp-post, he threw a couple of punches at its trunk, lamp-post did nothing stood inert and proud. He looked pained and went back to the bus queue. This time, he was full of aggression and started to act like a drill sergeant - barking orders at the queue to stand to "Attention" and then to "At ease", he repeated this again and again with excruciating monotony. Each member of the queue had that look of "will I be singled out". One woman in her sixties was brave enough to stand up to him and told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone and her fellow members of the queue. He would not listen, the bugger just kept on and on. In the meantime, police cars flew by with flashing disco lights making noises like flying saucers from a 50's sci-fi film. Fucking marvelous!

Labels: beer can man, buses, drunks, nuisance

Today was a rainy soggy day. The buses were running like cattle trucks. I was in Sutton, I attempted to avoid the school crush and got to my bus stop at 2.45, the bus was running and the bus that I wanted zoomed by packed with passengers - it zoomed by 10 minutes later than what it said on the time table. The next bus came at 10 minutes later than what the time table stated - it was packed but the driver allowed us on. We reached Carlshalton; there was a mass of school girls who came on the bus like a flock of mad geese and sounding similar. Some girls tried to board the bus through the middle doors, but a West Indian man denied them entrance "get in the queue, respect", phew that was a relief. He then shut the door via the emergency control, well it was an emergency. The driver seemed panicked, he turned off the engine, but did not tell any of the girls to get off the bus nor did he shut the doors on his part of the bus. Eventually the bus moved off. Some of the girls sounded quite political commenting that the school should invest its money in buses rather than in laptops. Although they were quite loud and got on my nerves, they were quite well-behaved. Got off at Croydon to catch my connecting bus - it came, it was packed to the degree that faces of school kids were squashed up against the door windows - they looked in a complete state of resigned despair. Something told me, this is not right - Transport for London is crap, it does not care about its passengers, it could not manage a kiddies merry go round let alone a bus network.

Labels: buses, public transport, schoolkids, tfl, transport, transport for london

Nick Ferrari's show is degenerating into complete crap - I used to tune into his show to shout at the radio and in the process wake myself up in the mornings. Now, there seems to be endless items on fucking babies. Today's item was on IVF and the implantation of "fertilised embryos" (sic). I shouted "fuck off" at the radio and switched channels to the more sedate territory of Radio 4's Today programme.

Is Galliard Homes determining this shite? If so, it is wasting an awful lot of money.

Labels: broadcasting, LBC, Nick Ferrari, Radio, Radio 4, trash