The prime miscreant johnson was discussing the treatment of miscreants, his choice of word, on tv in the week. Cornflake saved the tv from an angry response from me by changing channel speedily. If I had smashed the tv with my iPad, due to overwhelming frustration, that would have been a disaster. An insult to add to the injury of his premiership indeed.
Given my volatile reaction to scum bag politicians talking shite, you may well be thinking that I clearly wasn’t cut out for a career in politics. You’re obviously right. Now I’ve calmed down I’m looking forward to seeing the johnson in his fluorescent waistcoat, assuming they can find one to fit.
Mostly I’m fairly neutral, honestly, but I have two over used reactions to non neutral situations; anger or laughter, sometimes both. My anger is mostly well placed and I may even find myself able to articulate an appropriate response, but hysterical laughter is not an acceptable response in almost all professional scenarios, and many social ones.
You can see why the diplomatic service also never made my potential career list, foreign diplomacy particularly. Although, I might have focussed more on that sort of job if I’d been aware that plates of pyramid stacked, Italian, chocolate covered nuts were served daily. Never mind. I’m also unsure that the diplomatic service has ever accepted candidates from West Twerton Girls School. It’s doubtful.
I’ve mentioned before that in the past I have often had to study my hands, feet, paperwork or actually leave meetings to avoid fits of the giggles. An advantage of the online shenanigans, is that all I need to do now is turn the camera and microphone off, job done, free to laugh at ridiculousness and no one will ever suspect. It’s added an unexpected entertainment aspect to some meetings.
Washing up one evening this week at the studio after drinks, L joined GorJus and I. Due to the lack of an actual kitchen at the studio, the three of us stood in a row, at the sinks, in the toilet, facing the mirrors. L is French, when helping with the washing up she likes it done her way. I’d washed and I had rinsed. This was not sufficient. Everything needed to be rinsed again according to L.
Did you know, I asked, that a little bit of bubble on a glass can be buffed to polish it? Oh, she said, before going off on a tangent, when I wash my tits… both GorJus and I stopped, looked at each other in the mirrors. What? When I wash my tits at night…. WHAT?! Seeing our confusion she mimed, did actions to illustrate her words….the action of brushing her teeth. She has problems with th apparently, but her dentist recommends not fully rinsing toothpaste. Ah, not a tangent, ok.
How bad is it to laugh at a person whose English is as a rule very good?
I could not look at GorJus, nor she at me. I could not contain myself. I had to use a cubicle.
However, laughing at a French woman whose English is as a rule very good, but who has a very slight speech impediment, is not the worst giggle crime I’ve committed.
I had to leave a burial once….
fat tart 