On Excitement

On Excitement

Why do all new housing developments always have a big flag-bedecked sign outside announcing “An exciting development of 37 executive homes (and …err… two borderline-affordable studio flats so we’d get planning permission) NOW RELEASED!”?

What kind of person, apart from the shareholders and clueless advertising hacks, gets “excited” about new executive homes? Or, come to think of it "exciting" new product lines at a carpet warehouse.

"Carpet, Jenkins! I've come!" just doesn't seem to work.

Massive imports of Russian Natashas, now that’s exciting (if not a little worrying); and I may just get a tad excited should Monsieur Wenger give me a call and ask me to bring my boots to the match on Sunday, but that’s never going to happen.

If perhaps, they were to build social housing on a massive scale, centred around the Kirstie Allsopp / Sarah Beeny Oily Bath-House With Live Streaming Webcams (featuring state-of-the-art wonky eye and bingo wing correction), then, dammit, excitement would be my middle name.

But they’re not. I am not excited in the least. Life - why do you taunt me so?

Duckworth-Lewis again

The entire list - expanded to a top twenty - from yesterday's woe is over here. Go! Use it in your everyday lives. Go!