THE BRITISH THREAD II

OMG Walter- construction cranes over the Kurpark oder nebenan- what are they building?

The pink 200 seater stadium for their forthcoming women's World Cup, maybe?

Nebenan - no idea what they actually do - "modernising" the house, their garden ...

We've got those seaters already in the Kurpark - though not in pink until now ...

Well, all you need now is a pitch and a ceremonial handbag for the ref to carry the yellow and red cards, and you're there!

I don't know about you, but watching women's football is a bit like watching lads being forced to "High Street shop". After half an hour, they're tired out, bewildered and of no use to anyone. They follow the leader round in circles, haven't a clue what they're going to do next and spend their time trying their utmost to avoid any collisions with equally confused participants heading in the opposite direction.

Why don't they introduce a marathon shoe shop world cup, as the women spectators would surely prefer that to football, owing to the fact that they would at least understand the rules.

The Ten Rules of shoe shopping.

1. Rule One. Enter the High Street via the car park that has the longest queue, and is furthest away from a pub.

2. Start shopping with only the vaguest of ideas regarding what type or colour of shoe is desired.

3. Walk the entire length of the High Street, passing numerous shoe outlets on the way, before actually entering a shop to start the search.

4. Go into every single shoe shop and Department store, making sure to spend ages rummaging through not only the shoes on display, but all the possible combinations of handbags and accessories that may colour co-ordinate.

5. Make a decision at the bottom of the High Street, that the cute black slingbacks with that spangly buckle, situated in the very first shop that was explored, would seem to fit the bill perfectly.

6. Meander back up the entire length of High Street, making particular effort to "pop in" here and there on the way, in order to look at make up and underwear that may compliment a spangly buckle.

7. Arrive at target shop, only to find that the correct size in spangly buckled shoe has just that minute sold out.

8. Revise plan, and go for the small platform number that was in that clearance shop at (you've guessed it) the bottom of High Street.

9. Re-visit "pop in" shops on the way back down, in order to look at trousers that will be the correct length to accommodate a small platform. Try on several pairs in front of mirror, whilst standing on toes to replicate the platform effect before deciding to go with a little black number type dress instead.

and 10. Re-enter shop at bottom of High Street, only to find that small platforms are too uncomfortable after all. Decide to go looking for Birthday cards instead, starting at that sweet little shop that sells hand made cards at the top of the High Street.


Whatchoo reckon?

Shall I send this idea to Seb Coe?

You didn't watch this year's world championship, it seems, nor any other upper league or national matches.

I tried, but the yawning made my eyes water, thereby affecting my focus. In an effort to find a more pleasurable pastime, I picked up the Yellow pages to see if there was a local dentist who would be prepared to perform root canal without anaesthetic. I found one, but he wouldn't do it on the National Health, so I bought a roll of string and went in search of a suitable heavy door.

That's torn it! I'm going to stand up in future, when I need to park my breakfast.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/1399412.stm

You are missing the point DW.

It's the camera work you should watch. In televised ladies football matches the remit of the production team is to provide laughs. One should get in the mood before viewing them. Even the officials are a hoot and the roar of the crowd sounds like a flock of startled egrets taking off.

You seem to know a great deal about shopping for shoes. I think it is most demeaning to be seen in public in the company of a lady and if I saw a chap with a lady shopping for shoes, or other items, I would naturally wonder what she put him through in the privacy of her lair.

It did strike me once that working in a ladies shoe shop, especially at the upper end of the market, the beta range, might be quite an interesting occupation as I presume one gets a chance to have a feel around the well-turned ankles of bored ladies trying cheeky excursions to probe the defences and maybe getting a blimp up the valley now and again.

I never did pursue the ambition but your post has touched me and I feel shades of regret and,indeed, envy of the opportunities you have obviously had in order to be able write so lovingly and at such length on a subject so plainly dear to your heart.

If I was a psychoanalyst I would advise you DW to take advantage of this propensity, fascination even, with ladies shoes and position yourself on a bar stool in one of those pubs where ladies of the type you seem drawn to have weekly meetings in an upstairs room to discuss such things as saving the earth. Usually, about 10 pm, the meeting breaks up after the resolution to cut down on plastic shopping bags has been unanimously approved and they come down to the bar for a drink. Or at least those who haven't gone all the way over into domestic bliss.

Pouncing is a piece of cake once it gets to 23.30 hours.

But give a false name and be prepared to talk utter drivel until the orange light shows.

Actually women's football is quite good to watch.

They haven't learned to spit properly yet, though.

... and most female footallers did't join those actor classes men have to go to before becoming a professial.

And it's a bit of a disappointment when a goalscorer whips off her shirt to reveal only a sports bra.

I think that most men, certainly in their younger days, make the awful mistake of going along to the High Street when they should really be back at home fixing the sproggit on the lawnmower or at least pretending to until the coast is clear, before curling up somewhere with a bacon sandwich and a newspaper.
If they were honest, women would prefer to leave the old man at home anyway, as we only moan about not being fed every ten minutes and end up telling them that everything looks nice on them, purely to get the shopping over and to get back home asap.
They subconciously want us out of their hair, even when we're with them.
Answer me this..how many men have stood attentively behind their female shopping partner, diverted their attention for a millisecond in order to look at their watch etc., and in that instant, have found themselves totally alone in a world of consumer durables as far as the eye can see?
It's only then that you suddenly notice the odd male here and there, sctratching their heads and looking stumped.
Where do they go to, these females? Do they have some sort of secret teleport system?
I think they should designate one pub in the High Street to put half of the bar area over to displaced and abandoned husbands and boyfriends. Little wicker chairs, lots of lads mags, a telly showing re-runs of England's 5-0 thrashing of Germany, and free nibbles.
Or, better still, just stay at home and "fix the mower".

OMG!

You bunch of sexist bastards!

Shall I just not bother posting anymore and leave you boys to it?

Bet you're all rubbish in the bedroom department as well!

Women this, women that, winge, winge bloody winge...

Oh and while I'm at it - live in the effin' now - we have had the vote for sometime.

x

Shame on you!

x

I'm off to throw myself under the Queens horse!

But I draw the line at hunger strikes...

x

Mind you don't trip on your bustle.

Whan I was SHOPPING this afternoon I saw a wee shop (Stockport, maybe you know the one, it's on the broo up to the Market) which sells McSWEEN'S HAGGIS so I bought four and will have one tonight.

Is that it?

Don't trip on your bustle?

I rest my case.

x

I was actually shopping for a mandolin.

Not for me, for my brother; who needs a second mandolin to keep his good mandolin good.

Plinky-plink.