The pandemic has given new meaning to the term “veiled comment.” The only advantage of social distancing has been mandatory mask wearing. Why? Because it allows you to mask your contempt. A female can now nod at a supercilious mansplainer while enjoying a secret smirk. Staff can lip curl at condescending comments from a conceited boss. A cavernous yawn at a rello’s long-winded anecdote also now goes blissfully undetected. Thanks to masks, bullies, braggarts, numb-skulls and name-droppers now have no idea that they’re annoying the tooth enamel off us.
Humans have a bad habit of being annoyed by other people’s bad habits. But it’s been especially bad during this last 18 months. I honestly thought the pandemic would bring out my more compassionate, tolerant side, but no. I’m finding it increasingly hard to hide my disdain for all those self-satisfied people who are being positive about lockdown and constantly insta-gramming pictures of homemade bread or their artfully arranged Marie Kondo-ed closets or the upcycled sofa they’ve just reupholstered in their own armpit hair.
Even more annoying are the patronising types who drone on about the constructive ways in which the Pandemic has made them re-evaluate their priorities. “With so much more time on our hands, we’ve taken to smoking our own trout – <so much more nutritious and delicious>.” “Half a stone has just fallen off me; I think it’s giving up alcohol and only drinking water thrice-filtered through a Nordic glacier.” “Unable to travel internationally, we’ve using the time to rekindle our passion for the Kama Sutra.”
Those who aren’t going around the World in 80 Lays are mastering Sanskrit or re-reading all of Proust – “but this time, in French”. It’s nauseating. But it’s even worse when they enthusiastically attempt to recruit you. For once and for all, I do not want to run a marathon. I only intend to run that fast if I’m in the path of a steaming lava flow. Nor do I want to do a Yoni egg workshop on a yoga deck – not without a monocle for my third eye. All this endless accomplishment makes me want to tell people that I’m spending my spare time suckling demons at the bidding of the Dark Lord. Achievers who exceed the Recommended Daily Allowance of Smug really should be strung up by the nipples till, oh, about the next millennium.
Even more infuriating are the furloughed friends whom you know get up at the crack of noon, but then spend all afternoon face-timing you about how busy they are. Zoom meetings have also become a very ripe area of annoyance, mostly due to curated backdrops of Booker Prize novels, ethically sourced ethnic rugs or casually draped Toy Boys. Equally annoying is the meaningless waffle. ‘Thinking outside the box’ , ‘touching base’, ‘It’s on my radar’ and other clichés, make other zoom-attendees cringe. In short, using a phrase like ‘It’s a no-brainer’, proves you don’t have one; and describing something as a “win-win situation’ – automatically means you lose-lose. I would also like to point out to lingo-lovers that ‘at the end of the day’ is only one thing – night. “Giving 110 per cent’ – is also mathematically impossible and will get you sacked from your accountancy firm, forthwith. Cliches shouldn’t be touched with a ten foot pole. And don’t you dare take that idea and “run it up the flag pole to see who salutes.”
As humans spend more of our lives with work mates than loved ones it’s clearly important that when the world goes back to normal and and we finally head back into the office full time, we should try not to irk each other so much. Although there’s no forgiving the groin scratcher who then shakes your hand. Or the pongy colleague who kisses you with not just plaque but plankton on his teeth. And let me just say to the office ‘clown’ who is never funny – “Knock Knock….I’m sorry, buddy, but you seem to be in the wrong joke”. The inappropriate dresser who flashes side boob or bum cleavage by the photocopier, even my shock proof watch is embarrassed. Nor can we exonerate the dieters who only drink one mocha vegan pea milk crappuccino a week, yet keep going on about how ‘fat’ they are. The fact-regurgitators, the money borrowers, the groper who corners you in the lift with the words “I’m single and ready to mingle”; that new guy in Human Resources who is really bloody annoying but I’m not quite sure why…you’re all on probation. But then again, is there anything more annoying than someone who points out all the annoying habits of other people, without noticing any of her own?…
Please put on your mask before replying, cheers, Kathy xx
What do women really want in bed? Breakfast. Oh, and a good book. If you’re looking for a funny, frivolous yet feisty new read, do slip between my covers. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Here’s a selection of scribblings in which I peel down to my emotional underwear – a psychological striptease that occasionally reveals all.
I think women are each other’s human Wonderbras – uplifting, supportive and making each other look bigger and better.
If he wants breakfast, tell him to sleep in the kitchen.
Men think monogamy is something you make dining tables out of.
Many marriages break up for religious reasons – he thinks he’s a god and she doesn’t.
Love prepares you for marriage the way needlepoint prepares you for round-the-world solo yachting.
Boys will be boys, and so will a load of middle-aged boys who should know better.
Ladies who lynch.
No wife ever shot a husband while he was vacuuming.
I think therefore I’m divorced.
All husbands think they’re Gods. If only their wives weren’t atheists.
Happy wife = happy life.
I couldn’t ask for a better husband… as much as I’d bloody well like to.
Statistically, 100% of divorces begin with marriage.
Marriage is nature’s way of promoting masturbation.
Marriage is a fun-packed, frivolous activity – only occasionally resulting in death.
It’ll be an amicable split. You’ll both get 50 % of the acrimony.
A new invention is required. The monogamous husband. Patent Pending.
How Do I Hate Thee? Let me Count the Ways.
My wedding vows didn’t say To Love, Hoover and Obey.
I’m Having my period so can therefore legally kill you.
You are going to enjoy this marriage, even if I have to divorce you to do so.
A happy marriage is like an orgasm – many of them are faked.
All this emphasis on women faking orgasms, but what about men faking foreplay?
Why do men like intelligent women? Because opposites attract.
Why don’t women tell jokes? Because we marry them.
What does a woman really want in bed? Breakfast.
For women, life is full of lies – I mean doctors maintain that wrinkles don’t hurt.
Legal aid cuts prove that the Tories believe a person is innocent until proven destitute.
Sexist men are so stupid it makes you want to take the ‘men’ out of Mensa.
If a man ever tells you that women fall at his feet – it’s only because he gets them drunk first.
A woman must always fight back. Never just lie back and think of Canberra.
The best cure for menopause is the toy boy diet. A case of having Your Beefcake and Eating It Too.
I don’t fake orgasms. I’m faking being six foot one and seven stone.
Trophy wives tarnish quickly and then get left on the shelf.
Lawyers work 24/7. The partners of lawyers suffer from a bad case of subpoena envy.
Most shrinks should book an appointment with themselves.
The question on the minds of most women is – why doesn’t chocolate go straight to your boobs?
Don’t fall for a man’s puppy dog look… Just get him wormed.
It’s been so long since a man has touched me, not even medical science will want my body.
My top tip for keeping your youth? Lock him in the pool house.