A number of people have mentioned to me recently that they perceive a tone of intolerance on this blog. This concerns me deeply, as I am the most happiest, fun-loving person going, and that these morons could think something so astonishingly rude really does sadden me.
Anyway, that aside, today I wish to condemn all owners of umbrellas to eternal torment.
I don’t call them “umbrellas”. I call them “Nine Pointed Death Stars”. And I am now firmly of the belief that possessing one without first attaining a Nine Pointed Death Star Licence should be an imprisonable offense.
The moment the tiniest droplet of rain is titrated from a cloud, up swoosh these ridiculously huge, and hugely dangerous weapons, endangering anyone who has managed the self-awareness to recognise that they are waterproof. Dodging the genuinely harmful metal spikes that begin spinning down all sides of the streets is like something from a Tomb Raider game, except without the medpacks and calming slaughter of endangered species. If someone were weilding anything else of that size and lethality, they would be immediately arrested.
I’m not arguing for them to be banned. I’m a reasonable person. I’m arguing that everyone should have to attend lessons and complete an examination before being allowed to weild one.
However, golfing umbrellas are quite another matter. What on earth is going on with those? Fifty percent of the death stars on the streets of Bath are now these vast, marquee-like weapons of mass destruction. HOW WIDE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I’ll tell you – it’s shoulder-width. You do not need a golfing umbrella. Guess what they’re for? There’s a clue in the title. Go on, see if you can.
Banned. Absolutely banned. The punishment for carrying on is to be dropped from roof height, legs apart, onto it, which will them be unceremonously opened.
Off on holiday for the rest of the week. Be happy.