Chutneys and Oddities #3 Cat

I thought that today as a bit of a change and to prove that in fact I am not a constantly blazing ragaholic who is forever trying to bitch slap life into submission, I would take some time to mention a few of the better things in life. Of course I am talking about the people in my life.

Hopefully amongst all of my nonsensical ramblings, this will provide a background of relief for now is the time for one of my more chilled mentions of some of my closest amigos.

I thought I'd begin with one of my closest friends, Miss. Cat Mitchell, musician and fellow blogger of 'Cat Chat'.

Honestly, if you enjoy ranting and raving, check out her blog too. It's very like mine in the sense of potential anger and grammar Nazism...

Anyway yes, Cat and I have been friends for almost 7 years now.

We met properly in year 10 but we knew each other through friends of friends even before that.

Quickly finding that we shared a passion for music and a hatred for all things incorrect or generally produced with bad grammar, we became almost inseparable.

I'm sure that not all friends could claim, 'Samba bought us together...' but it's true.

Yes Mr. Kier introduced our year 10 brains to the world of samba baterio or 'percussive samba' and good God, if minds could explode and drip out of ears onto their respective shoulders, I'm sure ours would have done. Samba took up a lot of our talking time and we would eagerly await the week's next music lesson in which we would be able to smash the ever loving shite out of the samba instruments once more.

Our music trip to Venice all the way back in 2007 and the 30 hour coach trip to get there was amazing. 

We quickly formed a group of about 6 or 7 and spent our free time wandering the narrow streets and alleys and feeding the local pigeons in St.Marks Square. I can honestly say, being in Venice (which I still hold is one of the best places I have ever visited in my life) with my friends, playing music and eating real Italian pizza is one of the best things I have ever done with my life to date.

Year 10 was also the year in which we became prefects. In year 11, both Cat and myself, along with a select few fellow brown nosers, became senior prefects and were charged with stalking the halls and shouting at small children. One memory in particular is fresh in my mind..."fresh as a bagel from momma's oven" in the words of Howard Moon.

We were passing through the science corridor and found Mr.Baylis's door open a crack. Peering in to say hello, we spotted a van de graff generator sitting upon the table. Beckoning us in, he explained that he was due to use it next period.

Piping up like the good friend she is, Cat excitedly asked Mr. Baylis to shock me using the generator. So, not wanting to miss out on providing amusement for my fellow human beings, I reluctantly placed my hands onto the shiny chrome dome and waited. My hair began to stand on end as the static electricity surged through me. One touch with the connecting rod would discharge the electricity through my body and shock me. Hard.

Thinking it could not possibly get any worse and feeling my palms start to sweat slightly as I wondered what I had gotten myself into, Cat once more piped up with, 'SHOCK HIS NIPPLES SIR! SHOCK HIS NIPPLES!' Mr. Baylis, smiling slightly refused on the grounds that surely I could have him arrested for abusing a student so he offered the rod to Cat. Suddenly feeling a lot more panicked at the thought of my fate lying in the hands of Cat Mitchell, I began to protest.

Eventually, Cat, refusing to carry out her initial threat discharged the electricity through my hands and sent me sprawling to the floor where I lay crippled for some time. 

Just after this, we left and found a fellow prefect (who we both disliked and who shall remain nameless at this moment in time) had not turned up to his 'post' and so we both took much pleasure dobbing him in to our head of year. At which point we both high fived, safe in the knowledge that we had won our 'war' against him.

Throughout the years I've known Cat, boyfriends and girlfriends alike have come and gone and we have both spent time on the phone to one another after each break up just making the other feel better by telling jokes or generally just talking about how we feel. I have always felt that whatever news I have, good or bad, I can always talk to Cat.

I have to be honest, I could go on and on about our joint anecdotes but that would take forever...

I shall therefore end with a story that happened not too long ago...

While out for my birthday (I believe), my girlfriend and I were walking to meet a group of others (Cat being one of them) at a designated point in our local town. After meeting up with everyone and after a great deal of handshaking and hugging, black slapping and chatting, whilst on our way to the pub, an already very inebriated Cat looked sheepishly up at me and simply claimed, "...I pissed on the Disney store..."

I shall say no more. (Actually to be honest, I don't know if this is at all true...I mean I'm just going off of what she said and most of the time that's complete balls but maybe this one time she was telling the truth? You decide.)

I'll end this now as as I say, this could go on indefinately.

Hope you enjoyed reading it and enjoyed the break from the regular rants. Don't worry though, there's more coming...just you wait. Oh yes...

Anyway, yes the point of all this was just to draw attention to the fact that we occasionally seem to take our friends for granted. We seem to text to say hello and will meet up and catch up but I just wanted to make the point that friends deserve recognition for the ways in which they make us smile and laugh. The way they cheer us up when down and the way that they always seem to know what we are going to say. We should cherish them from time to time. So here's number one of the blogs that will pick up how important my friends are to me.

Whatever happens, I'm sure Cat and I will go on correcting bad grammar and spelling for many many years yet to come. She is my partner in crime, a fellow 'Sambista' and kind of like an amusing little sister.

Raise your brew,

Cat, this tea is for you. 

Cheers. 

Chutneys and Oddities #2 'Equalitea' For Hot Beverages?

I've always had issues with equality.

I mean, 'I have a dream' was just ground-breaking. Really inspirational stuff.
 Segregation in the 50's and 60's was awful by today's standards and it really makes you wonder how one group of people can completely cut off another from the things that both groups should be freely entitled to. Regardless of skin colour or sex.

Now with this in mind, the other day I found myself (as always) pondering upon the quirky way in which the English language is construed as the following question dawned upon me; rather like the stone tablet thing in 2001: A Space Odyssey:

Why is it 'tea-room' but 'coffee-house'?

Shouldn't we, as the equality loving, "freedom for all" people of the 21st century that we are, be providing equal space for our hot beverages?

I mean I like coffee don't get me wrong but tea is much nicer. Come on admit it...
I work in one of these coffee houses (but to be honest it's more of a restaurant / bar / coffee house, not just a coffee house so I don't feel too bad) and the amount of cappuccinos I make could perk Keith Richards up from a drunken stupor faster than a middle aged woman with a complex who's just heard that Tesco have started giving away free botox and chihuahuas.

 However, the sale of tea is still common. Whether chai, fruit, herbal or just good old normal English tea, (that's another thing...English? Really? In colonial times we enslaved an entire continent to ensure our supply of tea leaves and the last time I checked, we couldn't grow tea in England...but I digress) you can't deny, if push came to shove and the great English people had to rid this small isle of either tea OR coffee, coffee would, without a doubt, bite the proverbial dust.

So, why aren't we allowing our most beloved beverage an equal space with this south American usurper?
Let's start to see the emergence of the first of many tea houses and maybe even one or two coffee rooms.

Drink up guys. Raise the mug to the proper English brew.
Cheers!
Rob out.

Chutneys and Oddities #1 'Are "of" and "have" interchangable?'

It's recently come to my attention that people have begun to use the preposition 'of' when actually meaning the verb 'have'.
For example, 'Oh Andy, why did you stab that badger? You could of just let it go instead!'

Do you mean 'you could have let it go?'

Yes.

Yes you do.

This is fair enough in verbal conversation because obviously with common parlance, phonetically 'of' and the end of have 've' sound very similar.

I'm not suggesting that everyone use the Queen's English here (although let's be honest, it is GODS language so why not use it? The Bible is in English so therefore God is English too...Plus, like Al Murray says, England is fairly calm and peaceful. You don't have earthquakes or many active volcanoes spewing lava everywhere, killing English people...You don't shit on your own doorstep do you?)

Anyway, yes, I have even noticed this gargantuan fuck up in print now. Honestly...

In George R.R. Martin's 'Clash of Kings' nonetheless! (can't remember which page but trust me, it's in there)

Now, again, in verbal exchange, fine. I'll even except it splashed across a wall in hastily scrawled graffiti,
 although no doubt sprayed by a drugged up junkie, itching to get his next hit of smack off his dealer 'Drug dealer Derric' but in a properly  published work of fiction? Unacceptable.

Come on Martin you beardy legend.

This is unacceptable people!

Let's prevent further bastardisation of the English language like this in print.

I imagine now if you don't know me, you expect me to be sat behind my marble desk with my tie done up to eleven, sipping my hazelnut and gingerbread soya-milk latte (bought from a properly franchised coffee outlet
), clicking my fingers to Crowded House and feeling very smug about my observation.

Actually I'm drinking value tea from Morrison's out of a huge Avengers mug but that's beside the point... Actually I'm a rather poor student who doesn't think he's cool or cutting edge or even that this will be read by many (if any) people.

No. I just want to point out the things that really grind my gears. (So all you Guardian readers can back off.)

Expect more Hegelian streams of consciousness soon.

Enjoy the rest of your day. Thank you for reading,