I sometimes wonder if I should measure my happiness index by the number of my LLI posts. Just 24 in twelve years might suggest that with an average of two a year, I must generally be contented with my lot.
The truth, of course, is that there are lots of things in life that irritate me and that number increases the older I get. Posting about them would only embarrass me by demonstrating my growing intolerance and testiness, but sometimes I can’t help myself and have to give in to my inner grouch. Read more ›››
Friday night is fish and chip night in our house which I get from our local chippie, Matt’s Plaice (geddit?) which is just a few minutes drive away.
There is always a queue and that often means that the queue overflows on to the street which is fine in summer, but a little uncomfortable in the cold and rain of winter. I don’t mind though because Matt does make exceedingly good fish and chips. Read more ›››
There can’t be anyone who lived through the 1980s in the UK who doesn’t remember Harry Enfield’s Loadsamoney character, the loathsome Cockney plasterer who was forever boasting about how much cash he could earn.
He made us laugh because he epitomised the crude greed of Thatcher’s Britain. We thought it had gone away, what with the economy going belly up… Read more ›››
When I was a child I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child, but now I have put away childish things, as Corinthians put it.
You see, when I was young I used to get upset about quite serious things, like social inequalities, the hypocrisy of religion and the world’s starving, but being a male of a certain age, my grumpiness quotient has reached its optimum and I can now get heated over the most trivial of things. Read more ›››
Have you ever wondered about what is the most useless, pointless job in the world? I mean apart from politicians obviously, and those people who put mile after mile of cones on the motorway when there is no work going on.
For people who write letters to the Daily Mail, it tends to be anyone working in public services, especially if they work in health and safety, education examiners and those catch-all scapegoats, the managers and pen-pushers. Read more ›››
On the whole, I am an optimistic and joyous soul which is why my Life’s Little Irritant’s posts are so very occasional and, if I’m honest, this one is pretty petty, but the question has to asked – where have all the cream deodorants gone?
I’m of an age to recall a time when personal hygiene of the armpit was taken care of with a soap and flannel wash once, or maybe twice a day, depending on who you were trying to impress. Read more ›››
It has been a day of irritations, both major and minor, but mostly connected to the web, or rather the lack of it.
It started yesterday when our broadband connection first started to slow and then ground total halt leaving us without either internet or email. Read more ›››
Here’s something a bit different — a review of a book that I haven’t finished reading yet, except that I have. I should probably explain.
How hard can it be? is the fourth collection of musings by Jeremy Clarkson, the bête noir of the ‘eco-mentalists’, ‘vegetablists’, the Guardian, media luvvies and the Morris Marina Owners’ Club. Read more ›››