(Sunday) Make way for the revolution.

"Hmmph, some idiot pushed past me when I was stood at the bar," complained my girlfriend as she sat down opposite me yesterday. "That's annoying, there's some very rude people about," I muttered as I tucked into my Guinness.

My turn to go to the bar arrived and as I stood there patiently some c#nt tried to do the exactly the same thing to me. It wasn't the same person, I'm sure, but they were literally pulling me out of the way to get to the bar. Unfortunately for them I was in a bit of a bad mood and I half instinctively slammed my elbow as hard as I could right into their solar plexus. I immediately felt terrible about it. I turned round and saw my victim staggering backwards, slightly winded. As I faced him I said "whoops, sorry mate, I didn't realise... err... you took me by surprise there, I'm sorry". He gasped a bit and said "huhhh - nohh thaa ats okay, huhh" as he sort of held his hands over where I'd thumped him.

I'm not a violent person and despite the fact that moments ago this bloke had tried to push me to one side like an animal I felt genuinely guilty that I'd just hit him so hard. It wasn't really called for. This always happens with me, if I kick off at someone all the anger has gone by the time I've landed my first blow*. But he was being rude and perhaps he learned a little lesson there.

I certainly learned a very important lesson later on that night when we moved to a different bar. As we snuggled down into new seats, who should be sat opposite us but matey who I'd thumped ealier on with my elbow. There he was. Turns out he knew some of our friends in a very vague way. Friend of a friend type thing. He didn't acknowledge the incident directly but he was full of bravado and certainly had a lot to say to us. Mainly he spoke about football scores and how his team had won an important victory that day.

I hate football** and I can't be doing with the sort of people who shove it down your throat. In fact it turns out he was altogether quite a disagreeable bloke but I still felt bad that I'd hit him. The lesson I learned is that he's a person just like everyone else and you shouldn't go fighting fire with fire. Or something.

However, today I read an article in the paper which really annoyed me. It was about smacking your kids. It was in the Independant and it quoted a woman who is lobbying to enforce anti-smacking laws as saying "You wouldn't hit your wife, why would you hit your kids?". It's the sort of sound bite which initially makes you think, "well she's got a point there". Then on closer inspection you analyse the logic and realise what wrongfooted argument that is. The answer's very simple; your wife is an adult who can decide right and wrong for herself whereas a kid is not. Your wife would never choose to run out infront of a bus for fun. Your wife wouldn't think it was funny to try and drink green paint. Your wife wouldn't stick a silver chain up her nose, to see what it felt like. All these things I'm aware of kids doing and rightly getting a bit of a clip for.

I don't have any kids myself, but if I did I'd want the right to be able to correct their behaviour swiftly with a little slap. Obviously I'm not talking about beating the f#cking s#it out of them and anyone who can't understand that should not be allowed to have kids of their own, let alone comment on how we raise ours.

I'll bet that the idiot who pushed past me in that bar wasn't corrected as a child.

It's a bet which I don't expect to have confirmed either way. Unless he reads this blog, hunts me down and dishes out some justice for my "accidental" tw#tting. As he does I'll make sure I ask him if he got smacked as a kid.


*Sh#t, I sound like someone who does this regularly. I don't. I'm not a fighting person. Last time I hit someone properly was at Secondry School in the playground. And they hit me first! I can picture this being read out in court one day as I try to defend myself against assault charges or something. Seriously, I only glanced the bloke. And he really was a tw#t.

**Spotted on the train, proof football fans are often ar#eholes, bloke with a t-shirt which read:

"If women were meant to play football, God would have put their tits somewhere

-- Gordon Sinclair.

Come on, you don't have to be a woman to know that anyone who wears a T-shirt like that is an utter c#nt. I should have fallen elbow first onto him.


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