The lovely, and very funny @distressedhwife tagged me in a ‘Room 101’ style meme, and thus highlighted a benefit of social media. You see, within Twitter you can tag and run. Had she asked me in the pub, she’d now be excusing herself to the ladies room before trying to squeeze out of the toilet window in a bid for freedom.
Yep, not surprisingly I have a lot of things to put in Room 101. An awful lot!
Here’s just three of them …
Not all clapping. I still expect the boys to stand and applaud when I complete a level on Mario Bros for them. Such is my pitiful need for reverence.
No, the clapping that really grates on me is that of a studio audience. Specifically a middle-aged studio audience clapping along to a rock band.
I may be wrong, but I doubt this conversation ever took place during the recording of a Foo Fighters album.
Dave Grohl: “Sounds great lads, but it’s missing something. Maybe a badly timed hand clap that loses its enthusiasm midway through the song! Taylor, can you oblige?”
Taylor Hawkins: “Not really Dave. Have you asked the audience of the Jonathan Ross Show?”
No. No it hasn’t! So STOP it!
OK, maybe a little harsh, so instead I’ll go with the torment inflicted by older siblings, namely my big sister. So many examples to choose from but here’s a flavour of what I had to put up with ….
I was eleven years old. A very gullible eleven. My homework was to write a story about ghosts. I asked my sister for another word for trembling; her suggestion …. masturbating. I was ELEVEN!
Here’s a passage from the story I handed in.
“The policeman arrived at the house. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. He slowly opened the door and once inside found an old lady sat at the bottom of the stairs, masturbating.”
That’s not funny, that’s sick and twisted!
I never received a grade, nor had my work returned. I suspect it probably still exists somewhere; possibly gathering dust in the archives of Social Services.
I’m talking about fireworks. Fireworks and more importantly balloons. I have a nervous disposition, such is life. Explosives on a string really don’t help.
Who likes balloons anyway? I’ll tell you who. Toddlers. Toddlers with clumsy hands and sharp nails. Give my boys a balloon and you’ll find me in one of two places; rocking in a corner, or in a neighbouring postcode.
I should probably take this opportunity to apologise to every assistant in Mothercare who’s offered one to my kids. Take out the expletives and what I’m trying to politely say is,
“No thank you, they really wouldn’t like a balloon. I know their faces are suggesting otherwise, as will the impending tears, but honestly, I may only be one random bang off a heart attack!”
I feel a lot better for getting these off my chest. I don’t normally do meme’s but this one was quite cathartic, and far cheaper than the therapy I should probably be seeking.
As per the meme, I’m tagging @davidinglis.
I’d tag more but I think this has well and truly done the rounds now, but if you do fancy writing your own Room 101 post then I’d love to read it. Please let me know if you do and I’ll be happy to include a link here.
Charlotte’s (Distressed Housewife) very funny Room 101 post can be found here.
Thanks for reading.