Lets discuss something a little leftfield.
There’s a popular videogame series called God of War. In this series you play a character called Kratos, an antihero who exists in the world of Greek Mythology (and I’m not talking about their structured European debt repayment plan…. oh ho! political humour!). Summarising the plot – essentially a few quite bad things happen to Kratos, then some more bad things happen, then he basically murders his own wife and child by accident, then a few more bad things happen and then he goes on a murderous killing spree where he finishes off pretty much every mythical creature and greek god you can think of, usually in very creative and violent ways. There are no periods of light relief in the God of War games – Kratos is angry pretty much all the way through. He occasionally has sex in the games, but it’s normally angry sex. Considering each game lasts about 15-20 hours and there are 5 of them, that’s hell of a lot of anger and to be honest I find the games to be fatiguing and rather depressing. You might be asking how this relates to Janathon (I am as well…) but I think it illustrates the importance of tonality in life. Light and shade. What Janathon has taught me is 23 consecutive days of running isn’t all that fun. Like Kratos, I’m existing in a world where there is no light to counteract the shade. I enjoy running, but doing it every day has started to wear a bit thin. I’m not angry enough yet to punch a greek god in the face, but I’m getting there.
Still, not long to go now.
On the theme of anger, I tell you what’s got me REALLY angry today. I read the lottery win story of the latest pair of wet blankets (see above) who won 41 million quid on the euro lottery. Apart from the guy having the worst double chin I’ve ever seen on a thin person (and punching above his weight with his wife, he probably has a GREAT SENSE OF HUMOUR) it was the fact that when presented with the money their ambition stretched to buying a new carpet. I’m sorry, but stories like this make my blood boil. People who say (and read this in a thick Yorkshire accent) “Aye, we’ve won 80 million on ‘tut lottery, but I’ll be going back to me job at the bog roll factory tomorrow, and we’ll be stayin’ in our terraced ‘ouse” or similar should have the money forcibly taken off them. Then burnt in front of their eyes.
If someone asked me what I was going to do with 41 million quid and the best I could come up with was “a new carpet” I’d be ashamed of myself. ASHAMED.
What an utter, tragic, lack of imagination. Why play the lottery if the extent of your dreams ends at the purchase of a new carpet? By the time the journalists reached me I’d be sprawled on the bonnet of a Ferrari, drunk, covered in chocolate sauce, half-naked, arranging a hitman to take out the editor of the Daily Mail. A bloody carpet? Sweet jesus. My partner (she has asked me to confirm that while I use the terms girlfriend/wife/partner/other-half interchangeably she is only one person, and I’m not sleeping with half of the local village) has always been a bit in the carpet-camp, though I’m sure if we actually won 41 million quid she’d think of something better than flooring to spend it on.
Now, to be fair, Mr Chins does mention the fact he wants to buy a box at Old Trafford to watch Man U play. That sounds a bit more reasonable right? NO. This is just a dull male version of a new carpet. Utter imagination failure. Buy a box so you can watch some football? BORING. Come on. 41 million. Buy a bloody lower division football team and manage it. Start your own football team. Pay to have your own blimp hovering over Old Trafford. A BLIMP MADE OF GOLD. ANYTHING. Come on, 41 million quid and this is the best you can do? So dull. You should be able to indicate when you purchase your lottery tickets whether or not you have an imagination, and if not you should have to relinquish at least 50% of your winnings to me. Like the People’s Lottery, only the “People” means ME.
I know people deliver the “carpet” line because they feel guilty. Too guilty to admit that what they really want to do is run around to their neighbours and scream “I don’t have to live next to you bastards any more, I’m rich, rich RIIIIIICH! Wha’ha ha ha ha ha!” But it doesn’t fool anyone. It’s the sort of twee, annoying thing people think other people want to hear. Well, I don’t want to hear it. I want you to tell me when you’re buying your private jet and moving to Dubai. When you’re going into work and finally head-butting that work colleague who’s made your life a misery for 8 years. When you’re going to buy a suit made out of mermaid hair just because you bloody can.
I really don’t know why it irritated me so much in this case. It might be his chin. I’m not sure. After how much those bad ears annoyed me on Sherlock the other night I think I’m developing a phobia of proportionally challenged faces.
I don’t want to keep going for another 87 paragraphs, but here’s a list of 5 more things people do that annoy me:
1) People who stop and talk in the aisle in supermarkets when the shop is really busy. An obvious one to start, but quite frankly this drives me insane, especially when the person tuts and sighs when you ask them to move. I swear the next time this happens I’m just going to plough through the roadblock like an episode of Police Camera Action.
2) People who only eat half an Easter Egg and save the rest until the next day. Or indeed the sort of person who opens a Selection Box at Christmas and only eats one bar of chocolate in it, per day, so that it lasts about a month. I classify people who do this as mentally abnormal, and if I was in a position of power anyone demonstrating this behaviour would be forced to undergo electro-shock therapy until it was rectified. If you have chocolate the only thing that should stop you from eating it is a legitimate medical condition or the fact you’re too nauseous to continue stuffing it in your mouth.
3) People who put chocolate in the fridge. Utterly wrong. If you do this you should be ashamed of yourself. As ashamed as if you’d wanted to buy a carpet after winning 41 million quid.
4) People who put onions on pizza. I know a lot of people do this, but it doesn’t make it right. Onions are fine in many things, but they shouldn’t go on pizzas. A pizza is essentially a slab to deliver as much meat and cheese into your mouth per bite as possible. Vegetables get in the way of this, onions doubly so. They also taste nasty. A hot onion lying in tomato sauce and covered with cheese is a nasty onion. You might think you like onions on your pizza, but I implore you to really think about whether you do. Once you’ve realised you don’t like onions on your pizza then stop immediately, and then try to convert your friends. Assuming exponential growth I’m hoping for an onion free pizza society by 2018.
5) People (men) who tuck their top (be it shirt or T-shirt) into their trousers in a non-work situation. I don’t care how good you think your body is, you look like a twat. No item of clothing should ever be tucked into your trousers at any time, unless you’re in a suit.
I could go on, but if you do any of the above 5 things then we’re not going to be friends. In fact, we’ll be quite the opposite. My wife-partner-girlfriend used to do three of them, but I think I’ve cured her of two, and I’m still working on the onions.