Goonergal

Why are some parents so thick?!!?!
There was a documentary about fat children recently which made me really frustrated at the sheer stupidity on display. Basically , when your child is five years old and the size of a house, it is YOUR FAULT. This chavvy family had cupboards full to bursting with cakes, sweets, crisps and fizzy drinks, but still enlisted the help of a "diet Guru" (oh please. Common sense is all that's needed) to advise them on the reasons why the kid was such a lard arse. "He doesn't stop eating, he's always got his head in the fridge" said Mummy Chav, plaintively.
Excuse me, retard, but does your child hot-foot it down to Sainsbury to stock up on Jammy Dodgers and cans of Coke? NO. I do believe it is YOU who bypasses the vegetables and goes straight for the saturated fats. Your piggy will stuff its face with what you supply it with. Stop buying so much crap. And Fish and Chips should be a treat, not a staple diet!
Stupid bastards.

On Saturday I attended my friend Pip's 30th birthday party in the Narrowboat. And very nice it was too...although from start to finish I had an overwhelming sense of getting older. Or rather, everyone around me was getting older, whereas I was simply looking older , my mental age has not yet caught up. I still think I'm 21 and am perfectly happy there, thanks.
The first sign of the decline of days gone by was when I noticed everyone was no longer calling Pip, 'Pip' (this nickname is so old we have all forgotten why we gave it to him) and were now addressing him as 'Pete'. I looked around to see if I could spot anyone I knew. I saw a balding man with glasses standing in the corner. I squinted and realised it was my ex from years back. He advanced on me and proceeded to tell me in great detail all about his children, which is fine for five minutes, but lets be honest if you are childless people's offspring are much less interesting to you than the parent likes to think. I looked wildly for an escape. Jaf! There was Jaf, standing close by, big grin on face and drink in hand. He always knew how to have a laugh."Hello babes! What are you so happy about?" I asked. "Lisa's having a baby!" he replied. My phone rings, its Mark. The one I'm closest to out of the group.He is on a date, which hasn't gone well, and is on his way over. "Guess what?" he asks me."What?" I reply, hoping he might have a plan for later, or a witty anecdote. "Marrila's having a baby!" he tells me excitedly. Marrila is his younger sister. My memories of her are of a teenager studying for her A levels. Then I overhear a group chat and realise everyone is now addressing Jaf as Adam. Another nickname discarded. " My house purchase goes through next week!" I hear Pip AKA Pete say excitedly somewhere behind me. I look over at Lee, my friend, who is just as immature as me and telling some of the group all about the Surfing festival we are due to attend next week. They look unimpressed and somebody changes the subject to talking about the round of Golf they are planning on Sunday.
Dont get me wrong, I'm not the eternal teenager. I got married at 18, divorced at 21. I bought my house when I was 25. But I think its because I did all these things so early that I'm trying to have so much fun now, whereas it appears it's the opposite with the majority of my old friends.
I quite like being 21, though.