Who's there?
Bailiff.
This isn't a joke is it?
No.
Do you want to hear a joke?
I suppose so.
How many bailiffs does it take to change a lightbulb?
I don't know.
One, you moron.
This is how I'd like the exchange to go at my front door, the one which is inevitably going to happen any day now. That's right. I still haven't sorted the small council tax problem out. I'm still waiting to hear from them. Or they are waiting to hear from me. It's definitely one or the other. I'm too scared to keep ringing up in case a claim I make gets duplicated in some mid-management initiative to back everyone's claims up electronically. Which is subsequently replaced by upper-management with a scheme to consolidate all electronic data onto one super computer and hey presto my records are multiplying like a teen mum and 3 years later I'm done for benefit fraud. By typing 3 years I'm not implying I wouldn't make them aware of it, that's just how long it would take them to notice if I didn't.
So basically my life is turning into an episode of Shameless. This is both a good and a bad thing. It is good because I like the program Shameless. It is bad because I spend most of my day despising the type of person I am becoming. But I can see why the cycle is addictive, claiming benefit after benefit, getting stuck in the system, not seeing anyway out, collecting all the different claims forms to complete the set. It's like swapping football stickers at school, "What have you got?", "Housing Benefit, Disability, and I've got Jobseeker's in doubles", "I'll swap you two days of my Nan's pension and a tax disc for your Jobseeker's." I imagine that's what it's like. I never swapped football stickers at school. I'd like to say I didn't partake because I didn't agree with corporate bastards preying on the obsessive nature of 10 year old boys but it's more likely (definitely certain) that no one wanted to do swapsies with me because my Dad never bought me enough stickers to get doubles never mind shineys! I didn't really mind though because I hate football.
What is worse than a smoke alarm waking you up during the night? A smoke alarm NOT waking you up during the night. Getting to the serious stuff now, aren't we. The important issues. I thought I'd ease you in with a joke and an important message combined. I have had spats with my smoke alarm this week. Several smoke-less, danger-less, fire-less spats with the whiny plastic bastard. It goes off so often I swear it knows I'm going to be cooking food before I do. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!
It's a pasta salad! What does it have?, a wheat intolerance? And I march up the stairs and I press it's little button to calm it down. Everything's ok little smoke alarm! And then when I finally shut it up and walk away it bleeps every 30 seconds like a little artificial sniffle just so I know it's still upset. It finally goes to sleep and everything goes back to normal until it wakes up during the night crying to be fed because the battery is running out. Are you getting the analogy yet? Good. I bought a new carbon monoxide alarm the other day. One to replace the small stick on one that changes colour. We've had that for so long no one is sure if it has changed colour. So I bought one that makes a noise. Like the smoke alarm. Which means I've basically bought it a playmate. Because now one goes off when it gets excited which in turn sets the other one off. Basically I've had to separate them. They now have a drawer each.
My girlfriend asked me this week if I'd ever donate sperm. I said it depended on the cause. If it was to aid scientific research into fertility, or to provide samples for the testing of new drugs then yes I would. If it were for a church raffle then I'd be honoured but apprehensive. But if it were for the purpose of creating an actual child then I don't think I could. I in turn asked my girlfriend if she'd donate her eggs. The argument of supply and demand is bought up. The retort of the dangers of an 18 year warranty is met a with an accusation of defective production and a three day strike ensues when her head office decides to cut all funding in HR and none of my workforce get any practice. Following this analogy? I'm not going to explain it so you'll have to work this one out for yourself. In the end, my opinion is the confines of a meaningless blog are no place to debate the morality of sperm donation. Each to their own, but what I do know is that 'Donate sperm - Step up to the plate' would be a terrible slogan for the charity.
So what have we hopefully learnt from today's blog? Is it that I'm slowly evolving into a real life Frank Gallagher? Is it that women are like smoke alarms and should be looked after, otherwise they'll end up taking away your house and kids? Or is it the fact that even sperm donors who miss the test tube come in handy?
We may never know.
Test your smoke alarm once a week.
