The world is just a great big onion, a great big melting pot (that needs to be stirred for a hundred years or more apparently which would make your arm ache) and somewhere in the world, a group of sicky singing saccharine saddos may want to teach the world to sing in perfect bloody harmony whilst drinking Coke (other colas are available). Imagine, what a cacophony with everyone trying to sing in harmony at the same time, if that doesn't get the occupants of interstellar space to take notice of us then nothing will.
Now, before I continue I must point out that this is not all my own work. The theme (the handbags of life) was suggested by Mr Paul Whitehouse (bon viveur extraordinaire, private dick type, Michelin star gourmet, fashionista, and the best bloody handbag dancer I have ever seen doing the bump in a slightly-off Birmingham nightclub surrounded by sexy, slippery, poles - both the metal type and the hairy Slavic type - of very dubious reputation).
Paul (or Paulette as he/she goes by on Wednesday evenings) thinks that we are all dancing around our handbags and I think that he could be right for once (not in the head obviously or morally or even in terms of his dubious dress sense) but in many ways, we all dance around our handbags - The Handbags of Life (yes, Paul is one deep dude, no shallows here, jump into Paul - as many have done- and you drown in his deepness so make sure you can doggy). Paul poses the question: Why do we do it? Why do we go to buy a house or a car when we have no intention of paying the asking price - we always go in with a lower offer... and so the handbag is ceremoniously laid down and the dancing around begins.
Now, Paul in his infinite wisdom asks, 'why'? Why do we not simply pay the asking price? (he obviously doesn't watch Martin Lewis on Money Saving Expert). In the case of houses (Paul claims), the price has already been established by a professional valuer (his view and not mine as something is generally worth whatever people will pay for it so professional valuer - schmoffesional schmaluer!) Paul asks, 'Why offer less?' Well, apart from the fact that it would put Phil and Kirstie out of a job and that everyone loves a bargain, you can be pretty sure that the initial price is an inflated rip-off. Now, I don't know if Paul has ever been to India (although I do know that he goes to Indian restaurants, always ordering prawn pathia without fail), but I have, and it's amazing how a three-hundred-rupee deal can become a ten-rupee deal PDQ if you just keep on repeatedly refusing to pay the new and ever-decreasing asking price whilst walking away and being followed frantically by the vendor.
Paul is also of the opinion that job interviews are the worst for dancing around his handbag. I can understand where he is coming from on this one having interviewed many hundreds of prospective this-and-that's over the years and being interviewed myself more than a few times. We do usually go through this terrible pretence of being interested in the hiring company (Ah, I see that you make bits of plastic and then charge an awful lot of money for them. How interesting. Yes, I adore bits of plastic - did I mention that I juggle? ) As Paul says, 'just why do you want that job'? Well, apart from my mortgage, bills, the daughter's horse (in my case), the car on offer along with global travel and an unlimited expense account, I can't think of a single reason. Of course, most of us need the money, and it’s only a ten-minute commute, but do I really 'want' to ‘make a difference’ to the plastic bit industry? Do I Bollox (Bollox - a type of alternative Lego).
Of course this all changes when the mortgage is paid off, the kids have buggered off, and the horse (in my case again) has galloped away into the distance off. Then, the dancing can stop, the handbag can be emptied, and the pensions can be drawn. Still, back to that interview - one of three or four interviews these days and maybe a workshop/assessment day and (if you are really unlucky) all manner of psychometric tests that conclusively prove you to be a fascist, psychopathic, charlatan (so just what they were looking for all along then).
Now, before I continue I must point out that this is not all my own work. The theme (the handbags of life) was suggested by Mr Paul Whitehouse (bon viveur extraordinaire, private dick type, Michelin star gourmet, fashionista, and the best bloody handbag dancer I have ever seen doing the bump in a slightly-off Birmingham nightclub surrounded by sexy, slippery, poles - both the metal type and the hairy Slavic type - of very dubious reputation).
Paul (or Paulette as he/she goes by on Wednesday evenings) thinks that we are all dancing around our handbags and I think that he could be right for once (not in the head obviously or morally or even in terms of his dubious dress sense) but in many ways, we all dance around our handbags - The Handbags of Life (yes, Paul is one deep dude, no shallows here, jump into Paul - as many have done- and you drown in his deepness so make sure you can doggy). Paul poses the question: Why do we do it? Why do we go to buy a house or a car when we have no intention of paying the asking price - we always go in with a lower offer... and so the handbag is ceremoniously laid down and the dancing around begins.
Now, Paul in his infinite wisdom asks, 'why'? Why do we not simply pay the asking price? (he obviously doesn't watch Martin Lewis on Money Saving Expert). In the case of houses (Paul claims), the price has already been established by a professional valuer (his view and not mine as something is generally worth whatever people will pay for it so professional valuer - schmoffesional schmaluer!) Paul asks, 'Why offer less?' Well, apart from the fact that it would put Phil and Kirstie out of a job and that everyone loves a bargain, you can be pretty sure that the initial price is an inflated rip-off. Now, I don't know if Paul has ever been to India (although I do know that he goes to Indian restaurants, always ordering prawn pathia without fail), but I have, and it's amazing how a three-hundred-rupee deal can become a ten-rupee deal PDQ if you just keep on repeatedly refusing to pay the new and ever-decreasing asking price whilst walking away and being followed frantically by the vendor.
Paul is also of the opinion that job interviews are the worst for dancing around his handbag. I can understand where he is coming from on this one having interviewed many hundreds of prospective this-and-that's over the years and being interviewed myself more than a few times. We do usually go through this terrible pretence of being interested in the hiring company (Ah, I see that you make bits of plastic and then charge an awful lot of money for them. How interesting. Yes, I adore bits of plastic - did I mention that I juggle? ) As Paul says, 'just why do you want that job'? Well, apart from my mortgage, bills, the daughter's horse (in my case), the car on offer along with global travel and an unlimited expense account, I can't think of a single reason. Of course, most of us need the money, and it’s only a ten-minute commute, but do I really 'want' to ‘make a difference’ to the plastic bit industry? Do I Bollox (Bollox - a type of alternative Lego).
Of course this all changes when the mortgage is paid off, the kids have buggered off, and the horse (in my case again) has galloped away into the distance off. Then, the dancing can stop, the handbag can be emptied, and the pensions can be drawn. Still, back to that interview - one of three or four interviews these days and maybe a workshop/assessment day and (if you are really unlucky) all manner of psychometric tests that conclusively prove you to be a fascist, psychopathic, charlatan (so just what they were looking for all along then).
So tell us, where do you see yourself in 5 years’ time? (no idea, did you advertise for a bloody fortune teller?).
What about progression? (Happy to stand still doing as little as possible and build my pension fund with your contributions).
How about more responsibility. Is that your bag? (Bollox no! But I'm good at looking busy. Now, where is this bag you mentioned, is it designer?).
And then there's that woman hunting handbag thing (In the day I used to be a pretty good hunter, gun cocked and ready to shoot - so to speak). Yes, when picking up women (courting as we called it back then) us men literally danced around handbags, both physically and metaphorically. Mind you, even then we have to pretend we had a ‘connection’ or were in LURVE to even 'get down and started' (as I euphemistically used to call it). The reality was that it was all about wanting a shag and if she was reasonably good looking (or it was dark) or was (how do I put this delicately) desperate for sex, well - GAME ON! (P.S. did I mention that I really luuuurve you - kissy, kissy, heart?). Of course, that is Paul talking and not I. I have much more respect for females than that. I would never nick a ladies spare pair of pants from her handbag when she went to the toilet and then wear them to that club on a Wednesday evening (shocking behaviour Paul).
What a merry dance we do eh? It could be a Rumba, a Waltz, a Tango, a Flamenco, or even the Hand Jive (although I believe that Paul usually kept that one until he got home - usually alone). Nevertheless, we do (or have done), our dance for hours, even weeks and months sometimes, and at the end of it all end up doing the Tarantella with only a very empty handbag to show for it all.
So that's Paul's take on life - a cheap plastic handbag that isn't worth a Jig and all a bit of a Twist. Thanks, Paul, it really was a pleasure. At least I didn't mention your red basque. 😉
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