Sich Fertig Machen - To Get Ready

Several months ago I wrote a bit about the outlandish practice of guys spending thirty minutes fixing their hair to achieve that just out of bed look (Gepflegt, 19/7/08), yet superficial yoinks everywhere are still sporting it in alarming numbers. It’s as if nobody’s paying any attention to my angry writings! These are the guys who’ll take several hours to get ready to go out - anywhere - even to pick up their Daily Star and Brylcreem from Tesco Metro. But I’ve been overly harsh have actually come to the realisation you can’t blame them that much. They are giving the customer what they want - most girls seem to find the bold, daring, copied-off-an-advert-to-desperately-fit-in style highly attractive and desirable. They’re the internet retailers of the dating scene - moving with the times, adapting to changing markets, and not doing too badly in the currently screwed financial climate. On the other hand, I’m more one of those small high street shops who chose to stubbornly stick with its retarded principles of honesty, sincerity and just not pretending to be something it’s not. And like most such merchants, I’m out of business. The administrators have ransacked the place, leaving a hollow shell with that white swirly stuff on the windows to mask how empty the inside truly is. Not that I’m bitter or anything. If there are prizes for horribly uncomfortable tonal shifts in literature, please just steal them for me. They’d look right good on my mantelpiece. So, was there a point to all this? I’m genuinely having to scroll up to see what the hell I was gibbering about in the first place. Right. Well, I’m not going to rant any further about people who choose to spend their hours achieving a look that takes me approximately half a second to pull off, because I end up sounding jealous. Which I am. But don’t tell anyone. They’d probably find the idea of my hours spent tapping at this keyboard NOT chatting on MSN or posting meaningless and insincere shit on Facebook walls completely ridiculous in return. So we’re probably even.