An inspiring piece of literature through the door this morning.
Nothing to do with the election, just a generous offer of a loan, if I have difficulty getting one from the bank!
Provident Personal Credit are prepared to deliver a wad of cash money to my door! And the loan is a breeze to pay back because a friendly local agent will call every week to collect the repayments!
I can get the money I need! There’s nothing stopping me!
And the rate is so attractive that it’s not even in small print. It’s in quite large print, on the front of the flyer: 272.2% APR....
How cheering that such a helpful organisation should exist, ready to assist the poor and the desperate at every opportunity. Makes you feel so much better about human nature.
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Friday, 23 April 2010
Who are you looking at...
"It's a good job we had this one stuffed. Mark my words, there'll come a time when these things will be rarer than a Gary Glitter record on the radio."
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Caravan season
Here comes summer! The other day the sound of the first strimmer was heard around here, and it won’t be long before three lanes of caravans will regularly be seen on routes to the westcountry. (Are they really allowed in the outside lane?)
Thinking of caravans prompts the question: is there any better example (even including politics) of the attempt, by choice of name, to attribute to something characteristics which it simply does not possess?
This is what makes being a caravan spotter fun. It’s good to look out for the most ludicrous name. They’re called things like Viscount, Eagle and Invader.
In a world without marketing – ie a world where things had names which reflected their characteristics or function – they would probably have names like Retarder or Shed.
The sort of name native Americans might assign to the caravan (assuming I've got the hang of it from the cowboy films) would be White Box That Weaves In Potentially Disastrous Manner.
PS: Do you know what Pavarotti used to go on his holidays in? A Nissan Dormobile.
Thinking of caravans prompts the question: is there any better example (even including politics) of the attempt, by choice of name, to attribute to something characteristics which it simply does not possess?
This is what makes being a caravan spotter fun. It’s good to look out for the most ludicrous name. They’re called things like Viscount, Eagle and Invader.
In a world without marketing – ie a world where things had names which reflected their characteristics or function – they would probably have names like Retarder or Shed.
The sort of name native Americans might assign to the caravan (assuming I've got the hang of it from the cowboy films) would be White Box That Weaves In Potentially Disastrous Manner.
PS: Do you know what Pavarotti used to go on his holidays in? A Nissan Dormobile.
Saturday, 20 March 2010
We're Speedophiles, in your town for the weekend...
Unfortunately I have never been a huge car enthusiast. I say unfortunately because I would like to start a car club called Speedophiles.
Imagine the fun the social secretary would have booking the accommodation for our weekends away etc. "We're Speedophiles, coming to Hastings/Brighton/Bournemouth for the weekend. How many rooms do you have?" It would break the ice, I think. Imagine the potential for merriment.
It would also be a good name for a swimming club. In fact, I can't imagine why no one has done it.
Imagine the fun the social secretary would have booking the accommodation for our weekends away etc. "We're Speedophiles, coming to Hastings/Brighton/Bournemouth for the weekend. How many rooms do you have?" It would break the ice, I think. Imagine the potential for merriment.
It would also be a good name for a swimming club. In fact, I can't imagine why no one has done it.
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
Anyone looking for me, I'll be at the Recidivist...
Pub names… mystery surrounds their origin, to coin a cliché.
Well it doesn’t really, generally. But the thought is prompted by a pub called the Smugglers.
Why would it be called that? Presumably because smugglers spent their time chilling out there (well, warming up, obviously, in their case).
But that would be unlikely to have been its original name. If your inn was a favourite place for smugglers to hang out, it would seem unhelpful to call it the Smugglers. Because when Revenue Men (and who knows where they spent their time – they never seemed to get a pub named after them) were in that neck of the woods they would just have to head for… the Smugglers.
Similarly, you can’t imagine your average highwayman drinking in a place called the Highwayman. And pirates, reckless as they were, would surely have been sensible enough not to chance their arm (or another remaining limb) by congregating at the Pirate.
Obviously these insitutions must have been renamed long after the customer profile had changed, and the passage of time had made their activities seem colourful rather than nefarious.
And the rogues celebrated in pub signs have to be country or coastal types, it seems. Where are their urban equivalents? Why is there no Crooked Accountant or Bent Copper?
How long before the Banker makes an appearance? Quite a long time, one suspects.
Well it doesn’t really, generally. But the thought is prompted by a pub called the Smugglers.
Why would it be called that? Presumably because smugglers spent their time chilling out there (well, warming up, obviously, in their case).
But that would be unlikely to have been its original name. If your inn was a favourite place for smugglers to hang out, it would seem unhelpful to call it the Smugglers. Because when Revenue Men (and who knows where they spent their time – they never seemed to get a pub named after them) were in that neck of the woods they would just have to head for… the Smugglers.
Similarly, you can’t imagine your average highwayman drinking in a place called the Highwayman. And pirates, reckless as they were, would surely have been sensible enough not to chance their arm (or another remaining limb) by congregating at the Pirate.
Obviously these insitutions must have been renamed long after the customer profile had changed, and the passage of time had made their activities seem colourful rather than nefarious.
And the rogues celebrated in pub signs have to be country or coastal types, it seems. Where are their urban equivalents? Why is there no Crooked Accountant or Bent Copper?
How long before the Banker makes an appearance? Quite a long time, one suspects.
Friday, 5 March 2010
I say...
This is surely one of the most intriguing press pictures of all time.
Some people’s first reaction to it might be ‘caption contest’ but one wonders if the predictably crude attempts at humour would sully its fundamental mystery. Our speculations about what exactly might have resulted in this scene are probably best left unexpressed.
Origin: south coast of England, early 21st century
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