A Gentleman's Self Defence: How to deal with a Spode.

The bane of my life that is work has eaten away all that is in me which builds motivation. So instead of attempting that which I fail to stand, I shall explain to you exactly how to defend yourself against an aggressor (from this point on referred to as a "Roderick", "Spode" or a combination of the two, thus forming "Roderick Spode"). This is someone who, for reasons only mother nature can elaborate on, only evolved as far as homo erectus, and unfortunately sapien sapiens such as ourselves must deal with these cretins. Here's how:

Step one: Do nothing. That is all that is required for a Spode to take a disliking to you. You might be admiring a member of the opposite sex, or maybe just breathing in a way that the Spode finds distasteful. Either way, this is all that you need to start unpleasantries with a Roderick.

Step Two: So you have done everything that is in your right to do, and a Spode has come along and taken exception to your existence. He, or indeed she, may be breathing harshly throught their flaring nostrils, and is threating you with fisticuffs...or whatever method of barbarism that may occur to them at the time. All you have to do is remain calm. This is the best thing for you to do, no react to the Roderick's threats. While it is the best option for you, it will serve only to aggravate the Spode more. Oh well, it did not take much to get them to dislike you anyway.

Step Three: Unleash the "Eulalie". "What is this "Eula-thingy then, Bertie you insufferable prune?" I hear you asking. And I shall not disappoint you with a lack of further explanation, my dear chap!

A Eulalie is simply a phrase that will confound the obviously less intelligent aggressor. Do not be mistaken enough to use any complicated vocabulary, as this will only lower your favour in their eyes. A simple statement that simply disrupts the simpleton's simple mind is sufficient. I shall give an example of what the conversation could entail:

Spode: "Oi! [the universally recognised admission of stupidity] What are you looking at?!"

Gentleman/Lady: "Isn't it funny how railing are always grey. Why do they paint them that colour?" [A rather dashing Eulalie, if I do say so myself]

Spode: "Wha...?" [Followed undoubtedly by a look of utter perplexion (is that a word, Jeeves?)]

Step Four: An authoritative statement is now required to put the blighter in his place. A simple "Leave me alone" or "Do go away", would be sufficient.

And there it is, four simple steps to evading tussles with brutish creatures. A word of warning, however, ensure that you do not use profane language...this only lowers you to their level, and it is not in a well kept state at all; quite grotty indeed. Do please ensure that you have your running shoes on just in case they see the red of your waistcoat and get over-excited.

I will not take responsibility for any occasion that this method fails. It may be the case that you are dealing with a "Lord Bassett", in which case, if I knew the way of dealing with such a tyrant, I would not be in the sticky situation I often find myself in.

Good hunting my dear readers!

What-ho, Jeeves!

Well, I am thoroughly bored out of my rather tumultuous mind (is 'tumultuous' the word I am looking for?). Plagued by the requests of tutors and the tutored alike concerning the most droll of subjects: work. I have swarms of work to complete, and I am not in the kind of mood to get started...and who can blame me? When one's work consists (mostly) of the ins and outs of the European Union, there is not much that can be said for the case of actually getting stuck in and completing this mire (again is that the right word?).

So, instead of doing something that will further my career, help me achieve wealth and success and prevent me from being thrown out, I have decided to begin sharing my thoughts with insomniacs and cretins, and you, of couse! Ah! Yes, the lucky few who chance upon these scribblings of juxtaposed language and pretentious banter, but what else would you expect to come from a mentality that is stuck thoroughly in the early 1930s, round about the time a young sprog named Adolf was terrorising the German polling figures.

Within these words of laughable false wisdom, I aim to share with my readership the concepts of civilised society that have suffered a most unfortunate demise. Whether it be as a result of social evolution, or the fact that mankind is suffering a (hopefully) brief sandwich break in his race to achieve near-deity-like supremacy over very little we shall not speculate, but I am sure we are all in agreeance (I must check on that word later...) that it has happened.

The premature, naive prose of someone to young to have the wizened wisdom of someone three-fold his age, but thankfully without the smell of tweed. But dash it! I will say it all, and often, because... as previously stated, I am bored; and until my next post, bored shall I remain.