Sunday, 21 February 2010

Being Bad

Why does being bad feel so good?

At school being bad at hockey was liberating. (I once let in a goal because I was chatting to a defender about how much I hated the games teacher, but the goal was disallowed because it "had been hit from too far away" - ie. the opposite goal post). Being bad at maths meant I could torment the maths teacher. ("I'm sorry, Sir, but I just don't believe in negative numbers.")

Being bad at filing awarded me great satisfaction in a Commercial Estate Agents. I doubt whether they ever found the details for 76, Hillcrest Rise. Ha!

Occasionally - children, please note the occasionally - going to bed without brushing my teeth feels O! so rebellious.

Bad language - swearing. What can possibly be bad about swearing when it's so bloody satisfying?

Misusing apostrophes deliberately - to annoy the pedantic old crows amongst your friends - blissful.

Creating fake personas on social networking and blogging sites - not that I'd ever do anything quite as bad as that, you understand - must be too, too delicious ...

I realise that I am only scraping the surface of Badness. I must try harder; affairs, bank heists, forgeries of Great Works of Art, graffiti (witty, of course), fiddling my expenses.

But of course, the ideal career beckons ...


  1. You're so bad, you're good! (I always get those two mixed up!)

  2. Writing bad poetry and having friends praise it.
    Subversively bad.

  3. Also pretending to be able to speak Welsh - annoys the Bardic Nation deeply. (And my mother).

    Bwygg Parddwn, I llyk ywr swte ynormslllwy, Mwystrr Savant.

  4. You can steal and pillage and lie and swear all you like, but the apostrophe thing is really, really BAD.

    Love, Pedantic Old Crow

  5. I only misuse apostrophe's on Monday's and Friday's. And on other peoples birthday's. And sometime's when the weathers dry.

    (Psst! D'you think old Chaucer chap was really wrytyng in Welsh?)