Dear Tutter

Oh, it's You,

Whenever I can, I try to quash the incorrect, Daily Mail-induced view held by many older people about young people: that we are all violent, arrogant people who get drunk and high every day and have sex every Thursday. Sometimes more. So, when I see an older person, I try and be as nice as possible: opening doors, smiling, and giving right of way- even though I was the right turner and they the left- just to give them some semblance of a positive opinion of teenagers. So I'm allowed a break, right?

Today, I reached a difficult hurdle in my life. The baboon things on Temple Run got me. Again. Letting slip a barely-audible 'bollocks', I was fairly surprised to hear an elderly lady tutting, and I'm sure I caught some eye-rolling. I almost said this to her:

"Hello, I notice you're opposed to some of my life choices, so let me ask you this. Do you have ANY knowledge about me? Did you know, for example, that the gloves I am wearing (shows delightful gloves) were made by my own fair hands? That I know all of the words to two Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, plus a couple from Pirates of Penzance? Or, perhaps, that if Radio 4 was to suffer a power cut, I would cycle on a bike for a week to restore that reliable old station? That I would rather see a pair of great tits (the birds) than a pair of great tits (the tits)? Surely you must know that I have volunteered at an array of churches (I was confused), libraries and theatres? No? Then why all the tutting and rolling? Exactly; you have no excuse. What's your excuse for being a betch? (except I wouldn't have said that, because it may have detracted slightly from my argument) Have fun being ranted about on my  blog. Good-day."

Writing about it now, I kind of wish I had said that, then given her a link to my blog so at least she could have contributed to the pageviews. I don't see why I should be judged for letting the occasional 'bollock' come from betwixt my lips (ooft).

Bollocks to you. (Not you, You, 'you' as in this woman I have been speaking of)

M

P.S. I am the very model of a modern Major General.