Room 101

Well, the roof is now leaking and it is leaving a damp trail down the wall in the hallway and stairs. But I am not going to dwell on that because at least our ground floor isn't flooded out like some poor folks in this county, who still have no respite because this rain just won't go away. A roofer chap is coming to assess the situation on Tuesday and the hall and stairs will need redecorating but, well, there you go. The joys of home ownership. 'These things are sent to try us,' said Andy. 'Why?' said I. And we both thought about it for a while and neither of us could come up with a good enough answer so we ate cake instead.

And talking of Andy and cake and stuff, can I please direct you to visit his baking blog at Returnofthelivingbread.wordpress.com as he has decided to train for the Great British Bake-Off 2015 and is recording his training efforts, some of which I ate today. I shall let him explain his aims in his own inimitable way. 

So, new series of Room 101 last night. I have to say I am not keen on the format since Frank Skinner took over, but last night was very entertaining and during the programme Mr Skinner did something that I, myself, would like consigned to Room 101. 'What was that?' I hear you ask. 'I'll tell you,' I say.

He removed Richard Osman's spectacles from Richard Osman's face and put them on his own face.

Now, I have been a wearer of the spectacles since I was 12 years old. 36 years man and boy...er, girl and woman. I have been wearing glasses since all this was fields. I regard them as much a part of my clothing as skirts and trousers, jumpers and dresses. They are my facewear. They are as personal to me as pants. And what REALLY annoys me is when people think they can help themselves to my specs and try them on 'just to see what it's like.'

'Let's try your glasses,' they say, and before I can say, 'No, back off,' my glasses are forcibly removed from my face (often catching on ears and nose in the process) and I am rendered fuzzy-sighted whilst someone pops them on and has a laugh at my expense. 

The usual joke is, 'Blimey, you must have good eyesight to be able to see through these,' and oh, how I laugh! Not. Or, 'How can you see through these? Everything's gone out of focus.'

Well, it would, wouldn't it, you moron? Because they have a prescription in them that is personal to me. They are my personal glasses to help me see the world more clearly. And how would you like it if I wrenched your shoes off to try them on then laughed about how they made me look like I had clown feet? Or I dragged your jumper over your head and popped it on because I liked the look of it but then discovered it made me look like I was having a wool-based anaphylactic shock? 

Would you, I want to say, push a wheel-chair user from their chair so you could 'have a go?' Would you remove the wig of an alopecia sufferer because you wanted to see what you looked like as a brunette? No, you would not. Or perhaps you would, given you seem quite happy to remove my specs and leave me unable to see very much, least of all what you look like wearing my glasses.  Which is probably like a wazzock.

So that is one thing I should like to see consigned to Room 101 - people thinking it is okay to remove your glasses and wear them themselves. 

Now, what would you send to Room 101? Feel free to be as curmudgeonly and humourless as you like in your response. Because I have! 

Today's blog was brought to you by Senseofhumourfailure.com - For All Your Grumpy Cow Needs.