They don’t, do they. Never did when I was growing up or being educated and the fact that it was the 1970’s shouldn’t make any difference whatsoever.
But between then and now, somewhere along the line (and I blame the internet for a lot of the malaise) it’s gone very very wrong.
Out in public you will see the most ignorant people, seemingly devoid of any manners or indeed, basic social awareness.
There’s a chap on Twitter, one of my followers, who writes about his neighbours. The Ghastlies he calls them. It’s quite comical to read actually, I’ve made a point in telling him he could easily write a sitcom about them.
Though anyone remembering The Chawlers would know only too well the type of families that exist with God knows how many offspring and who’ve likely never done a day’s work in their lives. They probably couldn’t even spell the word.
The tattooed, pierced eyesores who are on Facebook via an intravenous drip spouting their “should of” and “them days” and “she goes” and the like. You know the sort.
So it’s Sunday morning and I decide upon a chicken bake at a well-known purveyor of baked goods. You know the one.
There’s a fair bit of a queue so I observe the social distancing markers in the floor and am idly queing when behind me come another of these families from hell, huge fat woman, actually thinking back they weren’t that dissimilar to Wayne and Waynetta slob. You know the show.
I kid you not, the father was a dead ringer. Anyway their daughter who I suppose must have been around six, made her way to stand in front of me.
I think you may already guess what happened next. And it did.
Probably not even a minute later, Wayne walks past me and plonks himself in front of me next to his child. And then Waynetta arrives too. Loud foul mouth yob, piercings everywhere that would embarrass even an airport metal detector and… oh look, hugely pregnant again.
I can’t and don’t do confrontation and with the queue still taking its time, I stepped back and left, without my breakfast.
It’s got to the stage where these morons, and I could use stronger adjectives, are so oblivious to others around them that if someone like me dared to say anything you’d probably get something like “oh what does it matta, fack off and die u old caant”
Writing about it does lessen the pain but not the dismay and disdain for these in-breds. There must be something like 10% of people like this in the world and with it already over-populated, personally I’d have them all gone by way of a lethal injection.
Because all they do is breed, seemingly, and have no decency or manners in any of them. What is the point of their existence?
And to be allowed to be in charge of children, there ought to be some kind of test that you must pass before you can officially and legally be a parent.
I’d best not continue down that road.