Of Prats and Rats.

A problem shared is a problem halved, so they say. Well, I'm not certain about the maths but I do agree with the principle involved. However, the stress and anger generated by a problem is shit someone else who's already got enough to worry about could do without!
Sounds a bit Thatcherite, I know, and I don't mean it as selfishly as it sounds. I am the first to listen when friends want to unburden themselves of problems and will do what I can to help, both with soothing words and in a practical way. That is what being a friend is all about, as far as I am concerned. What I can't understand is why I can still manage to keep a smile on my face in company when the underpants of misery are creeping up the bottom cheeks of my life and yet many others with the same crease-invasion problems feel the need to seek comfort by taking out their angst on me!
You know how it works. Bubbly intros like: "Hi, fancy a beer?" prompt responses like: "For God's sake, give me a break Don't pressure me, Reg. I'm having a Hell of a time! Are you implying I'm a dipsomaniac? I mean, I've had just about enough. While we're at it, what EXACTLY do you mean by 'fancy'? That's great! So I'm a sex pervert now, am I? You are a really inconsiderate, appalling excuse for a human being, you know that, don't you?"
People who behave like this are the sort of individuals who, when you meet them in the street and ask how they are, ACTUALLY FUCKING TELL YOU AND TAKE FOUR HOURS TO DO SO!!!!! They are the sort of people you meet on holiday and you say to at the airport (when you hope to be rid of them at last): "Oh you simply must come and visit us some time" and THEY FUCKING TURN UP ON YOUR BASTARD DOORSTEP TWO DAYS LATER!!!! These are people who find wars and death unimportant but race home to watch Big Brother.
They ended up as "friends", or more accurately "acquaintances", for some reason you have long since forgotten but there are times when you just want to put your foot down with a firm hand and say: "GET A FUCKING GRIP! IF YOU WANT TO BEAT SOMEONE UP ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS THEN HAVE CHILDREN!! IT FUCKING WORKS FOR LOTS OF FAMILIES IN THE NORTH EAST!"

Anyway, bollocks to them all. Tomorrow is THE annual pub crawl involving all my mutant pals. The crawl - dubbed The Rat (work it out) - takes in about 12 pubs and ends in a monster mixed grill at a secret location. Hurrah! No blog tomorrow, I fear.
In the meantime, people who live out their anger vicariously through their friends can go to Grantham - no, more accurately, they can fuck off to Grantham!