In Search of My Father 2017 Writing Project

In Search of My Father 2017 Writing Project
In Search of My Father, 2017 writing project supported by The National Lottery through the Arts Council of Northern Ireland

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

BEWARE OF THE BULL!



Here in paperback:



Here on Kindle:

EXTRACTS:

Stop buying personalised car number plates. A55 H0LE5.


Stop reinventing, reshaping, remoulding, rewriting Star Trek. We get it. We got it a long time ago. These days the pointy-ear guy must be offending somebody. Enough.


Stop playing screechy diva soul music in coffee shops or else I will counter it by reading my newspaper in a high-pitched voice, slurping my coffee loudly, smacking my lips as I eat a pastry and burping with all the gusto of Desperate Dan.


Stop kidding ourselves that reducing plastic carrier bags is going to save the planet. All it does is tidy the place up (and that’s okay) but as an effective environmental action, it sits between pissing in the wind and farting against thunder.


Stop politicians and environmental lobby groups from dictating how much plastic we use. If you give me the choice of war (you know, that thing that bombs the shit out of the planet) and plastic, I’ll take my chances with the plastic.


Stop wasting political party money on printing manifestos that will be shredded the day after elections. Fewer manifestos, a decline in supplies of shredded paper and a hamster cage bedding crisis is the worst scenario.


Stop inventing scientific-sounding ingredients for cosmetics, lotions and potions and just admit it’s snake oil infused with gook de gobble and a dash of balder.


Stop making ordering a coffee complicated and such a slow process. Here’s an idea. Have a jug of instant next to the machine for us people who just want a cup of coffee - like now!

Stop assuming that if you achieve even the merest hint of fame that it gives you an automatic right to become an expert on life, lifestyle, health, happiness or whatever hoohah you want to peddle. Fame does not make a schmuck intelligent.


Stop attacking, insulting and rubbishing people when they are alive and then give them a glowing eulogy once they shuffle off. ‘He was a little shit’ altered to ‘he was the salt of the earth’ is as false as it sounds.


Stop TV news channels referring to every celebrity slip, trip, fall, belch and fart as ‘breaking news’. Breaking news like breaking wind stinks of barrel-scrapings most of the time.

Stop TV continuity announcers from telling us about a forthcoming programme seconds after we have seen a trailer for the same forthcoming programme. Some of us aren’t six.


Stop the bandits who install ‘no change given’ ticket machines in car parks and elsewhere. It’s called stealing.


Stop people eating with their mouths open and doing that aaaaaahhhhh thing after every drink.


Stop sports stars from remaining tight-lipped during the national anthem after they declare allegiance to their country and kiss their shirts lovingly. Hypocrisy United.


Stop continuing to make the airport experience miserable and find ways to make it exciting and pleasurable again. Start by getting rid of that morose security woman from my last trip or at least get her to trim what looked like the makings of a Hitler moustache on her curled top lip.



Stop referring to every new album release as ‘essential’. Essential is food, clothing and shelter. CDs are way, way down the list unless you eat them, make a coat out of them or build an igloo with them.

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