Having my hands full
Ah, October!
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, as Keats would have it.
Season of smoke and mellow drunkenness, as I would have it.
October is not my favourite month. Clocks go back and the nights grow ever longer. The central heating is lining up for another hammering. Advertisements start appearing on the television promising me that if I order NOW I'll have my furniture by Christmas. The next three months are the shithole of the year and I could well do without them.
Of course now that we have dropped into a new month, we have to cope with all the new "themes" to make us aware of some shit or other.
Last month was apparently Male Cancer Awareness Month, though they failed to make me aware of the fact until it was too late. Have millions of males died of cancer as a result of my non-awareness? This month is now dubbed "Breast Cancer Awareness Month" as if this were the only month where women get breast cancer. I am still baffled as to how my awareness is supposed to make the blindest bit of difference?
Over in the UK [and possibly here, like I give a shite] they have Stoptober and Go Sober, where the nannies think we are all fucking stupid enough to play their little games and give up smoking and drinking. I suppose some sheeple will play, but not me. I'll leave that to the gullible, the brain dead and the insane.
On a side note, today is the day they introduce that new law in the UK. They think they are banning smoking in cars where children are present, but in my book, they are banning children in cars where smokers are present which I think is eminently more sensible. Let the little fuckers walk, and if they get run over or mugged or lost then blame the Nanny State.
I suppose I have to go around all this month groping every woman I come across. I shall consider it my civic duty to examine their breasts and make them aware of the awareness campaign even though it's a hard task, but every cloud must have a silver lining?
I can see I'm going to have my hands full.
The USA leaves the groping of women's breasts to teh professionals at the TSA.
Never delegate to others those jobs you are perfectly capable of doing yourself. I consider it a moral obligation to carry out this onerous task myself. The women will thank me for it…..