Grumpy Old Git

Grumpy Old Git

Grumpy Old Git was born long before you were, in a barn. He has been grumpy since the age of six when the neighbour’s dog stole his ice cream. After a long and tedious career ironing socks for millionaires, GOG (as he likes to be known) set about putting the world to rights by sharing his intuitive grasp of the undeniable truth. He is a firm believer that the pen is mightier than the sword. Except when you need to cut watermelons. Then the sword is mightier.

  • Joined: January 01, 2023
  • Articles: 42

GOG: Be afraid, very afraid… unless you read this

I hate it when cars nag. They bleep at you to turn off your lights or put your seat belt on or take your keys with you. Nowadays they even nag you when they need a service, as mine did this week. So of course I obediently drove to the dealer like a lamb to...

GOG: If the Git says you’re going slow, you are way too slow

On Monday I tried driving fast down a fast road in a fast car. This sort of summer driving should be fun. Get the old girl’s top off (I’m talking convertibles here, but you can imagine whatever you want,) stomp on the loud pedal and head for the open road. Alas, nothing but frustration awaits....

GOG: You win this time, horrible package! Oh, probably next time too

I had to buy a pair of scissors this week so I could trim the cat. My scissors came encased in an impenetrable cell of hard plastic that could only be breached by scissors. Three days later they are still taunting me from inside their impermeable plastic fortress, while the cat remains disgracefully unkempt. Somewhere...

GOG: Put THIS in the bag, you stupid machine

I am old enough to remember the empty promise of the digital age, the big lie propagated by that young pup Gates and his cohorts, that technology would improve our lives. It’s the twenty-first century for God’s sake. By now we were all supposed to be relaxing at home being amused to death by our...

GOG: Get it? Athletic rhymes with pathetic

'THEY DISPLAY LANGUAGE SKILLS SECOND ONLY TO THOSE OF THE COOKIE MONSTER' I have finally figured out why it is that team sports annoy me. I mean watching them, of course, participating being totally out of the question. (Many decades ago I was persuaded, against my better judgement, to try out for a high school...

GOG: Stop calling these things ‘rest’ rooms

Whilst browsing in the mall the other day I was once again reminded of my age, this time by my bladder. This is a moment I dread since it involves undergoing one of the most painful rituals of adult male life: The use of a public rest room. There is nothing restful about it. Ladies...

GOG: How you can help me help you survive this damn flight

I recently had to be somewhere else in a hurry, and the only way of achieving that is, of course, by flying. It’s been a while since I had to travel by aeroplane, and I had forgotten just how dreadful an experience it is. First one must face the ritual humiliation of “security” where in...

GOG: Fine, I’ll go, but I won’t like it

I’ve been invited to a party. I don’t like parties. No one likes parties. Secretly we’d all rather be sitting quietly at home with a glass of Shiraz and Margaret Atwood. But instead we congregate in someone’s ugly kitchen and pretend we’re having fun. It won’t be fun. It will be hell. There will be...

GOG: All these buttons and not a single one for Ovaltine?

This week I decided to take a mad leap into the twentieth century and buy a Radar Range, apparently now known as a 'microwave oven.' All I wanted was a machine to heat my porridge in the morning and my Ovaltine at bedtime. Put the mug in, turn the dial, hit 'Start' and presto, steamy...

GOG: Outta the way, grapefruit head

The snow has melted, the sun shines. Which can only mean any time now the only roads worth driving will be once again clogged with packs of brightly-coloured bicyclists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against bicycles. I used to have one myself, rode it everywhere. Before I learned to drive, that is. Of course...