Begrudgery II
Posted on Monday, July 3, 2006I had a further chat tonight with Martin the Nurse about the begrudgery question. You might remember that I was proposing to establish a chair of Comparative Begrudgery at the University of Limerick, with perhaps an Applied Begrudgery element to it. And I thought that a good candidate for the professorship would be an tOllamh Micheál Ó Cinnéide. Anyhow, I said this to Martin, and what do you think he replied?
Ah, sure, I heard all that kind of stuff years ago.
Surely professorial material there. Congrats Martin. you got the job.
But while we’re on the subject of begrudgery, could somebody please explain what’s going on with metal teapots? I’m talking about the kind of thing you get in Italian chippers when you sit down and ask for an eggbaconbeanliversausagetomatochipsteabreadandbutter. (Thanks). You know, acting the rich fucker. Coming in here like Lord fuckin Muck, like I can afford the really dear fuckin dinner, so hand it over you miserable bastard, kind of meal.
But I wasn’t! I thought I was just ordering off the menu??!??!!?
Or if you come in and say, no thanks, I just wanted a plate of chips, and a pot of tea. (Please?) Ha! Come in here wasting my fuckin time ordering a miserable plate of chips, you tight fucker.
It doesn’t matter. Whatever you order, you’re getting the Italian-chipper-teapot that pisses boiling water all over your crotch no matter how you hold it.
Why? There must be millions of these fucking things all over the world. Hundreds of millions if you include those that people bought by mistake and flung at the dog after one attempt to pour tea out of them. And they all have to be made somewhere, don’t they, in a teapot factory somewhere. With a manager, and a production team of some sort - or maybe not, considering the fact that they only make one thing: shite teapots.
It can’t be by accident. I mean, if I was going to make anything at all, the very first thing I’d check would be if it actually worked. Wouldn’t you think so? Of course you would. Here we are on the production floor of Quattrostagione’s Italian Chipper Utensil Factory.
- Look, I gotta new knife for you cutta da fresh cod! Issa great!
- No. Is no blade - only handle. No work.
- Ah. OK. Back to scratch. Grazie.
That’s right. A basic check.
- OK, I’m a-make a new fork.
- No. Issa no work. Is made outa da rubber.
- Eh, ok. Grazie.
But what happens when you appear with your teapot design?
- OK. OK. I got it this time. I’m a-make the teapot, is good, and a-when you pour him, all-a the boilin tea, he piss all over the customer, his lap, and maybe make-a da big blister, no?
- Bravissimo, Bocco!! Why you no go and make da millions of this great teapot?
I think they have a special department to test the fucking things. Jesus, here’s one that doesn’t leak!! Send it back now!!
If you think this is begrudgery, you’re right. After that jammy penalty against Australia, the fuckers are going to get it all the way up the arse until ZZ lifts the trophy.
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I received this email from JC:
I always thought you knew what happened to those Italian Restaurant/ Mungret College/ Little-Chef-in-the-Savoy teapots.
The EU took a case under the trade descriptios shit. They found, in the case of Ireland -v- Stainless Steel Teapots Teo. that they were all wrong.
1. they’re not stainless - the fuckers are always stained.
2. They’re not steel, because if they were, the fuckin lids would not be off-square.
2. Without prejudice to the foregoing jointly and severally, they’re not teapots because teapots contain nice warm tea which doesn’t attack your bageen when you pour it out.
So they ordered the government to give ‘em all to the Regional Hospital where they can be seen to this day. Not for making tea in - they drive ‘em around on a trolley at 5.00 am to wake everybody up so they will look sick when the consultant arrives after his lunch.
So now you know.
JC
Stumble it!
