Skip to main content

Beautiful - like a Brick


I suffer like Samantha Brick does.
Hardly a day goes by without someone saying to me “let me get you a cup of tea, you’re gorgeous”, me saying “Ta!” and them then saying “I wasn’t talking to you. And what are you doing in my kitchen anyway?”.
I can’t help being this stunning – you’ve seen the photo. I can wear two hats and look virile at the same time. Whilst wearing a scarf. That’s not an easy look to pull off.

Just the other day whilst in 1st class* on a flight** to America*** a beautiful woman**** offered me champagne***** just because “you look adorable”******

*2nd class

**train

***Manchester


****6 year old kid


***** a jelly baby


******”you’re funny looking”


Whilst I’m no Brad Pitt, I’m average height, a bit portly, balding, the bits that aren’t balding are greying, my ears are a bit big and my grin in wonky. Totally irresistible in other words. Yup – not Brad Pitt. More Arm Pit.

Because of my stunning appearance, I have regularly been overlooked by other men for promotion, with them using the thinly-veiled excuse that I’m actually an incompetent, lazy idiot, with very little aptitude and a casual disregard for timekeeping, hygiene and honesty, instead of admitting that they’re jealous of my looks.

I have to work hard to keep my looks. I regularly drink cider, eat a lot of Creme Eggs, drink an obscene amount of cappuccinos and take minimal exercise. You’d think more men would applaud me for this, but no. The athletic bunch I work with seem to shun me because of my physique.

Last week, one of my male neighbours completely blanked me, even though we’ve always been on nodding acquaintance before. I can only assume this is the green-eyed monster again. Or the fact than I ran his dog over.

One of my old bosses used to take me out for a pint now and again. He used to say it was because he felt sorry for me, but I know he was just basking in my reflected glory. When his wife came along and I said I liked The Nolans as well, he became insanely jealous, accusing her of liking crappy music and that I should be ashamed of myself for leading her on. And in a public place too.

During a particularly warm summer, one employer I worked for hauled me into the office for wearing clothes that were distracting female colleagues. It was ridiculous – there were other men in the office wearing light summer clothing, but apparently me in orange Speedos and flip-flops is just too sexy for some other men to handle.

Younger men do seem to feel threatened by me – just the other day one of them said “Yo. S’up, old man? Why you dressed like an old laydeez curtain, dude? You need to have some respeck, innit?”. Just because I was wearing one of my lovely shirts. The colours matched my eyes so well – purple and red. It’s such a shame too; younger men could learn so much from my dress sense. Funerals are too dull if you stick to black.

So now I’m 44, and waiting for my looks to being to go, as they surely must, so that I can fade into the background. It’s been hell looking this good.

Maybe then other men will let me join their club.

As long as I don’t ask about the offside rule again.

(Well done to Darren, for his very good post on the charming Ms. Brick. I wasn’t copying him, honest. And thanks to @onatrainagain and @BroughtonLass for suggesting I do this. Is this my first commission?! How much do I get paid? Oh. Right....)

This blog post appeared yesterday as an entry in the North West Evening Mail's "Big Blogger" competition. Do me a favour - click on this link to view it on their website, please? Thanks to your clicks, I've made it through to the final Blog Off. If you have any children you need to scare, show them this http://www.nwemail.co.uk/news/barrow-vs-arnside-as-big-bloggers-go-head-to-head-in-grand-final-1.941945?referrerPath=news it's the NWEM's article on the Big Blogger final. Even I was freaked out by the picture, and it's of me...

(Modern tunage for a Sunday afternoon... The Feeling's "Join With Us" album from 2008. Popadoodle-doo!)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Faking it for real

As Donald “I’m really great, everybody says so” Trump is so fond of pointing out, there is a lot of fake news around nowadays. Honest. Your friends at Facebook think so too, and have recently been publishing their top tips for spotting false news – by placing them as ads in newspapers. Considering they came in for considerable criticism themselves, that’s like shouting “Squirrel!” and pointing at a tree whilst you hastily kick away the prize begonias you just trampled. To help you make sense of this (and because I’m a caring person), I thought I’d run you through their suggestions and help to explain them for you. I know. I’m lovely. 1. Be sceptical of headlines READING THIS ARTICLE WILL IMPROVE YOUR SEX LIFE!!! And explain that catchy headlines, or stuff all in capitals might be a bit iffy. 2. Look closely at the URL You can find out more about this at www.wowyouregullible.com if you want to understand how phony web addresses are a sure sign of dodgyness. 3. Investigate...

Going Underground

The US presidential election and Brexit must have made me more nervous than I’d realised. It seems I’ve created an underground bunker without realising I was doing it. Still – we’ve all done that at some point, right? No? Ah... In that case, the fact that I have inadvertently turned my cellar into a rudimentary survival shelter, just in case it all kicks off, demonstrates a severe case of bunker mentality. Fretting about Donald and his wall, and Hillary and her emails, clearly made me more paranoid that I thought about the possibility of WW3 kicking off. Whilst attempting to find a specific size of imperial washer the other day (turns out I’d mis-filed it in the nut cabinet – Tsk!) I was struck by what a lot of jam and chutney we have in the cellar. And I do mean a LOT. There are boxes of boiled-up sugar and fruit and more boxes of boiled up vinegar and fruit. We’re still only part way through 2015’s output too. Then there’s the plastic containers holding pasta in various for...

Is it cold? Snow way...

Lunch out? Not unless you want snow balls... I’ve got a confession to make.  Lean in a bit, because I’m going to whisper it. Bit more. Did you have curry for tea? OK, good. I’m a weather nerd. There, I said it. When I was growing up, I didn’t want to be an astronaut or a fireman – I wanted to present the weather on the TV. I was lining myself up for a career at the Met Office when, at about 18 years of age, I discovered I was allergic to studying. Anyway, despite a jam-packed and varied career over the subsequent years, I still have a fascination for the world of meteorology. I even have one of those clocks that projects the time and the external temperature onto the ceiling at night, so I can see how cold it is outside whilst lying awake worrying that I might have wasted my life and been more successful with girls if I’d been more into cars than clouds. So far this year, I’ve gazed at a chilly reading of -5C a couple of times, and been grateful for previous sensible ch...