Tuesday, 26 August 2008


Every year there is some light humoured tabloid article about the colloquialisms which have found their way into every day speak and into the stuffy old Oxford English dictionary. From chavs to wheelies to no doubt donkey punch and dogging, it must be with a heavy heart that the old dodderers of Oxbridge are forced to tow the line with the 21st century greed and speed generation. What is lesser known is that there is also a visual equivalent to cover the field of human motion and activities, commonly referred to as the JUG’s (Journal of Unknown Gyrations) as here is a sample of the most recent entries:

The Mobile Walk
Keep still you bastard! I got disciplined for shouting this out of an office window last year to a gentlemen who I had watched pace around and around in a circle whilst on his mobile phone one fine summer’s day last year. There’s also another bald Brummie who constantly yaps away on his phone a few yards away from me and as soon as his moby goes he gets up from his desk and walks and talks in circular motion and like one of those submarine sensors he comes in and out of my radar and how I long to leave my own desk and fly at him with the mother of all haymakers and a verbal assault along the lines of ‘Can you not just sit at your desk while you make that fucking phone call, it’s hardly confidential as half the office can hear you? Some of us are trying to surf the internet in peace!’ Also found on trains and outside public houses.

Blackberry Flick

Usually found at airports or on the tube, these things never beep or bleep despite all the incessant fucking fiddling it’s owner is doing mainly because they aren’t really that important. But hey don’t they feel the big man or woman when waving it around. The Blackberry is a status symbol every Office Ted aspires to whereas most decent folk who have the misfortune to own one prefer to turn the fucker off and read the free Metro paper on their way home instead of constantly whirring away on this piece of shit whilst pretending to be a big cheese. Nob cheese more like, put it away – you’re only playing the bloody games half the time away. So you’ve got an email, no-one died – get a life. Ideal for the boss who fucks off from the office at 5 every day and can then by seen as conscientiously ‘working late’ by his bosses and team as he sends some random emails while sat on the bog in his local pub at 10pm.

Satnav juggle
Aren’t Satnav’s great, some sexy female voice telling people exactly where to go, erm well no, they’re not much use at all really by the time you get close to where you need to get to the battery normally goes and the driver, far from concentrating on the road, is fiddling like mad with the fucker as it’s gone on the blink again as their hands undertake a movement first seen in Black Lace’s Agadoo video accompanied by a pair of Maracas.

The Eyetie eyeball
Usually spotted on motorways, this is the bulging eyed action one motorist bestows upon another who has dared to pull into his space. Usually this was involve some pinstripe suited twat who is clearly speeding in his company beamer and a 78 gentlemen has pulled into the fast lane after having spent the last 20 miles indicating to take over a milk float. This brings on the wild, rabid eyes, fists banging on the steering wheel, arms flailing up and down and cut-throat gestures to the poor bewildered pensioner who has dared to make the cunt of a salesman twenty seconds later for his conference in Coventry.

The Scissor sister sashay
Performed by metrosexuals in offices and shopping centres everywhere, they are usually carrying a coffee carton and wearing a scarf. They don’t walk like normal people do, oh no their walk says ‘I’m smart, I’m confident, my body language tells you exactly who’s boss and I’m officially of the smugometer scale. I’ve been on courses to perfect this you know and it’s what makes me better than you. Common cure for this behaviour is a pint glass in the face but the power walkers rarely drink anywhere which serves drinks in anything above 250ml measures.

Alan Sugar finger

Me mum always told me it’s rude to point but point people do and all the frigging time. It seems that courtesy is a scarce commodity and pointing is now the new speaking for lazy bastards everywhere. I just pity the poor bird somewhere whom during the Apprentice found herself on the receiving end of her wacky wayward boyfriend who doubt thought it’d be funny to dump her by pointing the finger and saying ‘I’m sorry Shazza, I’ve made my decision and you’re fired!’

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