Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The school run

"Bloody hell, I'm late for picking up the wean fae the school"

During this week my good lady wife, the Rablet and myself have taken advantage of the reasonably sunny weather and have ambled along to the local primary school to collect my nine year old brother in law.

It's nice to have a wee stroll in the fresh air and the Rablet enjoys surveying the view as he is pushed along in his pram. He is of the age that he likes to sit up and hold on to the sides of the pram and everyone who passes by is greeted with a drooling toothy grin, (from the wee one, not from me).

The school is less than five minutes walk from us and is situated on a busy road. The lollipop lady is kept busy ensuring everyone crosses the road safely.

A high blue palisade fence encapsulates the school grounds and building, as you would expect. The gates are shut tight during school hours. Got to keep all the paedophiles and child killers out, of course. The gate is opened to allow access to parents picking up their children at home time and as we approach the gate we see the first group of 'them'.

We usually arrive a few minutes before the bell rings, to signal the end of another day of brainwashing and leftie indoctrination. I have a look around at the waiting parents and I always say the same thing to my wife.

"Are we the only normal people here?"

Honestly, you would think that you had been picked up by some force unseen and dropped into the middle of a crowd scene from Dawn of the Dead. Except most of the 'people' in the playground are fat. No, strike that. Not fat, but fucking obese. And proud of it, by the way they like to dress.

To be fair, at least they are wearing outdoor clothing to collect their spawn from the school. Only a brief half hour ago they were shuffling to the local shop/post office wearing nothing but slippers, pyjamas and a dressing gown. And a brass neck. Thank goodness for small mercies, I suppose.

It goes without saying that 90% of parents waiting in the playground are female. Their partners will be at work. (Only kidding!) They will, in the majority of cases, be single mums. Getting fat by sitting playing on-line bingo and stuffing their faces with pizza and lambrini whilst their children are hurling rocks through the window of the local chinese takeaway.

Not all the mums are fat disasters. Some are skeletal thin. These scummy mummies are the ex junkies or, in some cases, still are junkies. All have that same 'screaming skull' look and their poor kids all look the same. Small and old before their time. You just know that in a few years time most of the kids will have the same 'issues' their mother has/had. The circle of 'victimhood' by the righteous continues. Without these alleged victims, hundreds of thousands of support 'workers' would be unemployed. Anyway, I digress.

There are a handful of men around. One or two, like myself, will be on annual leave from work. The rest are unemployable. Some fall into the junkie/ex junkie bracket like some of the scummy mummies. Most are just 'no use bastards'. Never worked a day in their lives and have a collection of tattoos covering their necks and hands and sometimes even their faces.

Finally it's time to leave. We exit via the gate, pushing our way past people who seem to have no idea of self awareness. The road is heaving with cars parked either side of the road. The majority are decent cars, only a few years old. Filled with one or sometimes two fat disasters, (they are ALL fat, no exception), all the cars have one thing in common. They have disabled parking permits on the dashboard. All the cars are 'mobility motors'. Paid for by me, the tax payer.

As we take a slow stroll home, I'm suddenly struck by a thought.

It's me and my family who are not normal. The scene I have described is normality in the Britain of today.

I'm a freak.

And you know what, I'm proud to be a freak.


Mark MacLachlan said...

No, I'm a freak. Sadly a walk through any town centre in Scotland throws up a similar scene.

Never mind in 20 years times these boss eyed gnus will be standing knee deep in skeletons clubbing each other to death for the last remaining packet of cheesy strings, whilst we laugh at them from the stands.

wv veryclose vemin

I am Stan said...

Lol...long live the freak!

microdave said...

FFS! - You might have given some sort of warning before posting pictures like that, I've just had my tea....

Another freak here, just so as you don't feel too lonely.

They will come in useful, when oil runs out!

Catosays said...

Jeez, it just makes you weep for what we've become.

Mr. Mxyzptlk said...


well its time you pulled your socks up and worked your lazy balls off...

And moved yourself and family to a decent area with the decent people.

Oh i forgot you dont believe in house ownership oh well best stay on your sink estate then

RantinRab said...

Oh, I believe in house ownership Niko. I just refuse to pay over the odds for it.

David Morris said...

Great post

& so true

this could have been written about the school run in the balmy/soft south west.

(Bristol, since you ask)

Anonymous said...

Think yourself lucky,one East
Manchester bus which
rumbles through my heavy smoking ghetto has had to have solid tyres
fitted.Some of the Mammies are so gross the driver tries to charge them double fare.
Their re-inforced buggies have
out-riggers for stability.
Mamas,no Papas

microdave said...

"has had to have solid tyres fitted"

Is that to take the extra weight, or because the local scrotes keep shooting ordinary ones out??

Hunkofjunk said...

what in the fvck happened? When I left Scotland in the late seventies everyone was near skeletal, pretty fit yet still ate carb heavy food and drank enough to refill the North Sea.

What's turned it into Alabama, Tesco's?

We have the occasional lardy tubby in my local supermarket - spot them a mile away as they shuffle down ailse 13 gradually gaining momentum as they get closer to the iced buns on special discount. My favourite though is when they start to perspire and get agitated if they get a whiff of vinegar in the air - time to step aside if you see them coming..... nothing will get between them, chips and vinegar.

take the hit and get out of there said...

Sadly if you want a better way of life you've got to bite the bullet and get a motgage etc.
We've all done it despite getting ripped off by estate agents, solicitors etc.

Dark Lochnagar said...

No Rab, It's not typical of Britain, IT'S FUCKING KILMARNOCK!

CrazyDaisy said...

It's either that or Londistan for me naewhur is perfick!

When I get a bit lardy the brain kicks in and I beast masel! I couldnae dae wi oot climbin moontins!

What's the real cause though?! Self respect, nanny state a genuine genetic problem or all of the above?

Maureen Dolan said...

Rab I think your post would be stronger if you tried to figure out why these people let themselves get so fat. And I don´t think Scottish education is "leftie". I do think there´s something in the question of the nanny state which has turned people into travesties of themselves. But there´s something missing-maybe you can figure it out.

Anonymous said...

totaly agree with your comments, but for a bit more entertainment, try the bus station in kilmarnock town ..on a tuesday!!(or any other day), it really is like dawn of the dead, fat sacks of shit, mongos and assorted scum wandering aimlessly about, without a though for anyone but themselves, the one that pisses me off is the pondlife who step off the bus and come to a halt to talk(shout) to there fellow vermin whilst the rest of us try to get off, in a perfect world a good boot up the ring would sort this, but its frowned upon by society!, same goes for the fat wobbling sperm banks, waddling about with there 15 weans ( each with its own father) wrecking everything in sight whilst the mother in between mouth fulls of wotsits and a drag on her roll-up shouts come back from there chardonny!!! why do the scum give there off-spring stupid names?? i suppose its the only thing they can give them, i seem to cursed with screaming scum!!, no matter where i go, day or night theres a sack of shite in a pram screaming , bus, train, rickshaw, helicopter..everywhere!! and then theres the common ned/chav, who , despite weighing 3 stone with no arse in there trousers still thinks that he is an unstoppable bullet proof super hero who can beat up any number of people at the same time!!! honestly watch out for them its quite funny, the place is full of these wee knobs wandering about with lice haircuts and trackies smoking roll-ups and scowling at fuck it bomb the place!!!!