No 3: McDonalds
You’d think that taking your infant to McDonalds would be the preserve of the chav, scav, and people from Manchester, but the sad reality is that the middle class are the most guilty of this sin. It’s a way for them to win cheap affection from their kids by buying them a happy meal which not only saves them the hassle of having to cook a meal, but also gives them license to eat a McFlurry. And parents are suckers for those ice-creams. I have nothing against people who take their children to McDonalds once in a while (the McNuggets in particular I highly recommend), but why do adults, smart and rational ones at that… why do they take infants to McDonalds? All the babies ever do is cry as their mum (you rarely see a dad in a McDonalds, surprisingly) looks on out the window. Nobody is happy in this situation! Just don’t do it! If you go anywhere with your kids, screw the McDonalds entirely and go to Subways instead.
No 4: A French Market
I’ll admit that that last section there was a piece of filler so I could justify this half of the blog entry. French markets! I have had the dubious pleasure of going to markets around the world, and you can see the cultural identity of every race from the way they organise a market. African markets tend to specialise in cheap knock-offs of famous brands whilst Australians rock a market the same way they rock everything else, with surf-boards and glowsticks among the things you’ll find on sale. Inevitably there will be a basket-stall too, with a grumpy old woman weaving miserably whiles smoking something of dubious legality. British markets are dull and dismal affairs, much like the people, selling bags of sweets and rugs. We also have on offer the most singularly depressing mix of charitable second-hand toys you will find the World over, from people trying to sell old Happy Meal toys through to “beanie babies – beanless” and jigsaw puzzles with no pieces (build the rest yourself from cardboard! Fun for the whole family!) French markets, in contrast, are the most vibrant of all. People wander round offering free samples of anything, there are cool gadgets and mimes and people who sit on the floor and paint things for you to buy! It’s great fun… so long as you don’t invite your children along.
Any child under the age of twelve will be petrified at a French market. Y’know why? Because the French have no concept of what is - and what isn’t - an attractive display to lure customers. What they do have is a horrifying constitution that allows them to eat pretty much anything that moves. Mix the two together, and you get this:
You’d think that taking your infant to McDonalds would be the preserve of the chav, scav, and people from Manchester, but the sad reality is that the middle class are the most guilty of this sin. It’s a way for them to win cheap affection from their kids by buying them a happy meal which not only saves them the hassle of having to cook a meal, but also gives them license to eat a McFlurry. And parents are suckers for those ice-creams. I have nothing against people who take their children to McDonalds once in a while (the McNuggets in particular I highly recommend), but why do adults, smart and rational ones at that… why do they take infants to McDonalds? All the babies ever do is cry as their mum (you rarely see a dad in a McDonalds, surprisingly) looks on out the window. Nobody is happy in this situation! Just don’t do it! If you go anywhere with your kids, screw the McDonalds entirely and go to Subways instead.
No 4: A French Market
I’ll admit that that last section there was a piece of filler so I could justify this half of the blog entry. French markets! I have had the dubious pleasure of going to markets around the world, and you can see the cultural identity of every race from the way they organise a market. African markets tend to specialise in cheap knock-offs of famous brands whilst Australians rock a market the same way they rock everything else, with surf-boards and glowsticks among the things you’ll find on sale. Inevitably there will be a basket-stall too, with a grumpy old woman weaving miserably whiles smoking something of dubious legality. British markets are dull and dismal affairs, much like the people, selling bags of sweets and rugs. We also have on offer the most singularly depressing mix of charitable second-hand toys you will find the World over, from people trying to sell old Happy Meal toys through to “beanie babies – beanless” and jigsaw puzzles with no pieces (build the rest yourself from cardboard! Fun for the whole family!) French markets, in contrast, are the most vibrant of all. People wander round offering free samples of anything, there are cool gadgets and mimes and people who sit on the floor and paint things for you to buy! It’s great fun… so long as you don’t invite your children along.
Any child under the age of twelve will be petrified at a French market. Y’know why? Because the French have no concept of what is - and what isn’t - an attractive display to lure customers. What they do have is a horrifying constitution that allows them to eat pretty much anything that moves. Mix the two together, and you get this:
Keep your children the hell away from French markets.
I've never heard of a scav before.
ReplyDeleteAh, well that's because it's a word I've made up, admittedly. It's essentially another word for chav, but applies only to the grubbiest of them.
ReplyDeleteTake it away! I'm having a Lord of the Flies pig on a stick flashback.
ReplyDelete