The highly successful 'Grumpies' return full of the Christmas spirit. So - 'tis the season to be jolly is it? Well, not in the household of the Grumpy Old Man it isn't. In the case of the GOM, 'tis the season to have to put up with even deeper layers of vexation than usual, and the only thing worth celebrating is that it looks as though you might after all be surviving to the end of what has been another crap year. Everything about Christmas gets up our snitches. Everything. From the breakfast telly presenters who tell us it's now just 120 shopping days to go, to the annual festive strike by airport baggage handlers. From office parties where drunken juniors have waited the whole year to tell you what 'the trouble with you is...', to parents videoing their precocious brats at the atrocious school nativity play where your kid is playing the part of the donkey's rear end. From the woman next door who drops in to show your wife the diamond ring her prat of a husband has bought her, to the 150th opportunity to see 'Whistle Down the Wind' on the telly. And speaking of wind, there's the festive Xmas turkey that tastes like blotting paper soaked in a puddle and sends your digestive system to hell. And how on earth are we really supposed to look happy when someone buys us a tie with a picture of xxxxing Santa on it? Eh?
grumpy old christmas
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'I owe, I owe, so off to work we go.' A Grumpy perspective on the daily grind. Whether we are celebrity chef or hapless waiter, engineer or oily rag, commissioning editor or TV producer, all of us have a whole daily wagon-load of s**t to deal with in the name of work. From boardroom to boredom, from 'what's the point?' to Powerpoint, from 9 to 5 to P45. And that's what this new book from uber-grump Stuart Prebble is all about; the utter everyday relentless crapulence of working for 'the man', or indeed 'the woman'. The workplace is a piece of cake for someone of his curmudgeonly quality. It's not possible in a book of this size to include ALL the grumps arising from the working day - the office politics, the shortcomings of IT, the interminable meetings and some of your colleagues' weirder habits, but he is giving it a go. Grumpy? I'll say we are ...
Democrat, Republican, #METOO member, man, woman. No matter what political leanings you have, I think you will enjoy the Christmas 2018 Edition of "The Grumpy Old Man". The book will definitely give you something to think about, give you some stories from news sources that you may have missed over the last several months and hopefully, will give you a chuckle or two along the way. It's the perfect Christmas Gift for friends, family, neighbors or just about anyone you know. Buy several copies for Christmas this year. You won't regret it.
How modern motoring drives Grumpies to distraction We've said that Christmas is the worst thing; we've said that working for idiots is the worst thing; we've said that holidays are the worst thing. But driving is the worst thing of all. It brings together so many of the multitude of individual elements which combine to make Grumpy Old Men and Grumpy Old Women grumpy. It's got queuing - at petrol stations, on side roads, on A roads, on motorways, at car parks and even at the 'drive through'. Very few things make Grumpies more grumpy than queuing. It's got being ripped off - when you buy a car, when you have it serviced, when you buy anything for it, when anything goes wrong, when you put petrol in it, when you wash it, when you park it, when it gets towed away and when some arsehole you've never met bumps into it. It's got being pissed about - when you want to book it in for a service, and when you get to tax it, insure it and get the MOT for it, and again when you want to sell it. And last but not least, it's got the most essential ingredient of grumpiness. Driving is a triumph of disappointment over expectation. When we were kids we thought driving would be the ultimate freedom and all it has turned out to be is a total pain in the tushkin. And that is not even mentioning Top sodding Gear...
The highly successful Grumpy Old Woman returns - and this time she's even grumpier! 'It feels like only yesterday I was the youngest person in the room, I had my whole life in front of me. I had time to burn, I spent my whole day snogging boys and backcombing my hair. I was a young thing, with a lovely body, life was fun, and I hadn't a care in the world. Now - it feels like two minutes later - I'm a little bit old. OK, I'm not in elasticated stockings or on Meals on Wheels whizzing down the stairs on my stairlift, but my life is more than half over. I've been there, done that, got the packamac. I'm so old that I remember dances with drum solos, the arrival of unisex hairdressers and had a crush on Ilya Kuryakin. I am up at the top of the hill, and over the other side again. What all this means, is that I am grumpy. But I've earnt it... I lived through Boney M and leg warmers and the Crossroads Motel. Obviously in a book this size I wouldn't be able to share with you ALL of my grumps. But I've decided to write down some of the secret thoughts that beset a woman of a certain age, some of the wicked things that occur to a woman who takes a lot of things to the dry cleaners, has to have her roots done every four weeks and finds it hard to wear high heels. And guess what: they still fancy people, still have silly little crushes on people at work, still - shock horror - have sex. You will discover that women of a certain age are just as provocative and turned on as women in their twenties. Probably more so. So get over it. Middle-aged women are sexy, funny and infinitely lovable. They are also taking over the world.'
Welcome on board - holidays the Grumpy way! As every Grumpy Old Man and Woman knows, holidays are another way of keeping you all house-trained. They are civilised society's reminder to you that the tedium of everyday life is actually preferable to a fortnight spent in the company of nagging partners, other people's brats, bombastic in-laws; and - worse still - people who can't speak English. As soon as you check in at the airport you are marooned in a sea of screaming babies, dull-faced reps and bland airport food. Count yourself lucky if your optimistic expectation of a good holiday is even remotely fulfilled. Don't be fooled by the glamorous air-brushed photos of American models with tippexed teeth sitting by laguna pools, cocktail in hand. There may be beautiful sunsets by the beach in the brochure, but you'll inevitably find that a) you should have booked the neighbouring hotel (and if you're lucky she'll tell you so, 'ad nauseam') b) you picked the rainy/religious holiday/mosquito/plague infestation season - and wonder why it was so cheap and c) you'll have had too much sex or food by the third or fourth day and be bored of each other, but there's no-one else to talk to, apart from monosyllabic waiting staff and the ubiquitous Russians. A holiday is supposed to be a lovely break, isn't it? This book proves that it is the stay-at-homes who have all the fun.
Do you know someone who is infuriated if kept on hold for more than a minute? Who is positively enraged if someone answers their phone during dinner? If so, you've probably encountered the phenomenon of the grumpy old man. Packed with funny chapters such as who are we, what are we grumpy about, and how can you spot the signs of grumpiness coming on, this book will leave even the grumpiest of men with a grin on his face.
In the days just prior to Jesus' death and resurrection, Matthew records a meeting held on a high mountain.Shining in the brilliance of his birthright, Jesus confers with Moses and Elijah.Nothing is known of the actual discussion but it does raise wonderment: If Moses and Elijah were present for the Transfiguration, who's to say they weren't around earlier-perhaps much earlier?Who's to say they weren't present for Jesus' birth?And who's to say they didn't help a bit?
To everything there is a season. A time to be born, a time to die ... and a time to have a bloody good moan. Following the huge success of Grumpy Old Men, Stuart Prebble, writer of the highly acclaimed TV series, gives us a more in-depth look at what it's really like to be a pissed-off man of a certain age. In painstaking detail, he takes us through a year in the constantly irritated life of a Grumpy Old Man, recounting the manifold vexations and absurdities he has to put up with in the perpetual torment that we call modern living. Drinks parties, holidays, hospital visits, his children's misdemeanours, buying presents for the wife, watching television, attempts to visit the gym, trips to the shops, the trials and tribulations of everyday life - each event has something to tip him over the edge. Stuart's diary proves that grumpiness is not just an occasional mood or a temporary feeling, but a way of looking at the world, and will strike a chord with all those who are proud to call themselves Grumpy Old Men.