Incoherency, Garlic Bread and Banking.

My brother has officially lost the ability to speak. Whether the fault lies with his becoming a teenager, or with hours upon hours of computer games, he seems to have finally sunk into incoherent mumbling. This was brought to my attention today when he was trying to call me down for tea. All I could hear was “RO-EEE. GAAAABAAA REE-EE” How on Earth, as someone not entirely in touch with modern teenagers and their language, was I supposed to decipher any sort of meaning from a series of moans and mumbles?

I shouted for him to tell me again. He tried. This shows two things, the first is that I at least can put a sentence together and be heard and understood, which shows that it must be him, and not the distance from which he was shouting. The second is that he understands English, and that whether or not I had slipped into a parallel universe, English is (or was, who knows, the world is a constantly changing place) the accepted language of use. So, therefore, it should not have taken four attempts for him to relay a relatively simple message to me.

If you’re interested, what he was trying to say was “ROSIE, THE GARLIC BREAD’S READY”. How annoying. I had something else to rant about, but in my excitement at being annoyed and consequently writing about it, I’ve forgotten what that was. How annoying. At the moment I’m watching Grand Designs and looking at University Courses. Also, I got an email from my bank today, apparently some information is wrong and they can’t activate my account. Very annoying, I spent a good half an hour on the phone the other day trying to open it. There was a man who spoke infuriatingly slowly in an Irish accent on the other side of my phone who kept congratulating me on tiny details of my life. An example of this is:

“Do you have any middle names.”

“Yes, it's Alice.”

“Good for you.”

Why is that good for me? I’m honestly totally indifferent. Had I been born and not been given a middle name, I wouldn’t have spent my life thinking “I can’t help but feel that a tiny part of me is missing.” or even, had I been given a different one, would I have mused “That’s not who I am, Lord, I feel so lost.”. my point is, my middle name really has had very little impact on my life, and I haven’t a clue why I should be told it was good. It’s like praising someone on receiving the local newspaper. To be fair, I probably shouldn’t be angry at him for being courteous, at least he was making an effort, unlike the rest of most of society today.

That’s all folks.