A must have dream to die for
Grandad October 8th, 2008
Herself was watching a programme on television last night.
It was one of those girly things where young women are let loose in a room full of clothing and they all start squealing with delight and sounding like a herd of pigs being led to the abattoir.
Fair enough. It’s pretty nauseating shallow stuff, but herself was happy so I didn’t complain.
What really pissed me off was the expressions they were using, time and time again.
Language evolves. I know that. We use expressions that would utterly confuse someone a hundred years ago. But one thing that irritates me intensely is the use of expression where the speaker isn’t listening to what they are actually saying.
I hate expressions like ‘chill out’ meaning ‘relax’. ‘Chill’ means ‘to reduce in temperature to near freezing point’ and ‘chill out’ therefore makes no sense whatsoever. It has nothing to do with relaxation, anyway.
Last night the three constant expressions were
To Die For
Presumably this means that something is so nice, that a person is prepared to lay down their life to get it. That in itself is a paradox, because if the person is dead, they will have no further use for it anyway?
Are there people in this world that are so shallow that they would be prepared to die in order to possess an item of clothing?
Must Have
If I say I must have a pint of stout, then that makes sense. To say that a pint of stout is a must have, is nonsense. ‘Must have’ is not a noun. Apart from that, to describe a dress as a ‘must have’ implies that a person’s life is incomplete if they don’t have that dress. Who says? Who dictates what we must have? Are we so mindless that we rely on others to tell us what we must have?
Dream
This crops up a lot these days. ‘That is a dream dress’ or ‘he scored a dream goal’. Presumably this means that this is an item that we have dreamt about in the past? Has any woman ever spent a night dreaming about the perfect pair of shoes? Has any bloke ever dreamt about scoring a goal? I know men better than women, and I know men dream about scoring all right, but it has fuck all to do with football.
The crowd on the programme last night just sounded like a gang if empty headed bimbos. In fact anyone who talks like that sounds like an empty headed bimbo. If Darwin had his way, the building would have collapsed and the world would be a better place.
Luckily I didn’t have to watch the programme.
I had other things to do.
The latest book by Cecelia Ahern arrived in the post yesterday.
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