THAT'S IT...I'VE HAD ENOUGH!

First topic message reminder :

If anyone else asks me "are you watching the big match tonight?" I swear to God that I'll f*cking strangle them.

So far today I have been asked that question by the window cleaner, the postman, the Indian who runs the village shop and the Polish (or Ukranian, or Lithanian or Latvian) bint at the Tesco checkout.

NO I F*CKING WELL WON'T!

I hate "footie" with a passion. Twenty two grotesquely overpaid prima donnas who would be hard pressed to rustle up three brain cells between 'em kicking a bladder round a field is something that I rate lower in my catalogue of priorities than watching paint dry. Or grass grow.

I would far rather have a root canal procedure without anesthetic that be forced to watch 90 minutes of grown men spitting and scratching their balls.

I am sick to the back teeth of turning on BBC 24 Hour "news" only to see some so-called "manager" who couldn't manage a bingo hall prattling on about a match that was played decades ago or lionising some pimply, semi literate teenage twat who is being hailed as the next Bobby Charlton or David Beckham (who he?)...predictably sitting in front of a set of Marler Hayley screens bearing company logos advertising everything from hemorrhoid cream to condoms.

I almost puke at seeing some twenty-something slip of a girl presenter pretending to be a sports "correspondent" at the World Cup when she probably achieved little more than a reserve slot in the under-13's hockey team at Biggleswade Comprehensive, pontificating about the offside rule - or even (Christ preserve us!) rugby league.

In sheer bloody desperation I turned to Freeview's Movies for men this afternoon, hoping to escape from the acres of drivel and garbage being spouted about some f*cking "footie" match being played in a South American banana republic tonight, only to find that all that's on offer is a string of old black and white Westerns with John Wayne doing his bit to decimate the Indian (sorry, "Native American") population by the simple expedient of shooting their effin' heads off, as a special celebration of...you guessed it...the f*cking World f*cking Cup.

So, it's me for monastic orders. I'm going to sign up as a novice in a Trappist monastery in the hope that I can escape this mad, mad world of football mania.

Though with my luck (if I fell into a barrel of tits I'd come up sucking my thumb!) they'll probably have cancelled evensong mass in favour of watching twenty two arseholes running around a field and hugging each other like a bunch of gays at a Julian Clary Tupperware party every time somebody manages to kick that bloody bladder between two sticks.

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Didn't even know they did a silver version!

Sassy wrote:Didn't even know they did a silver version!  

Sold only in 1935 during the Silver Jubilee. My model is a bit tatty, but they are now as rare as rocking horse sh*t so I don't mind. It makes the whole collection quite valuable.

Fred Moletrousers wrote:

Sassy wrote:
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I still have my very first camera, yep, Box Brownie.   Never got into photography (perhaps the Box Brownie was to blame!) though and horror of horrors, take most of my pics on my phone (hang my head in shame).

No shame at all! Phones are doing a brilliant job in that so many more people now record in pictures their daily lives and the lives of those around them and, more importantly IMO, so many users have become "citizen photo-journalists" because of their camera phones and the social media, giving all of us a greater insight into the lives of others. All to the good, so far as I'm concerned.

I have every colour of the old Box Brownie ever manufactured, including a rare silver version limited edition to commemorate the 1935 Silver Jubilee of George V.

  

I have an old Box Brownie in my collection, as well..

Don't know how old it is, as my parents had bought it second-hand in the late 1950s.