At what age is one entitled to be old and grumpy? I'm 45 this year and I find more things make me angry almost daily. The modern world - ha!

For example, instead of going to one of the thousands of outlets up and down the country, why do old ladies buy lottery tickets for themselves and their friends for the next six months at the tobacco kiosk in Tesco's? Twenty smokers (myself included) have to queue up for their cigarettes. Entering the lottery is a choice, nicotine is an addiction.

I apologize for the next rant, it is not original, but I must get this off my chest. Back in the day, I travelled to Cottonopolis by bus from my home in a small village on the banks of the River Irwell. Once there, I would fall asleep in an office from nine to five. On the return journey, without fail some fool would answer a call on his mobile phone. Having been chatting at a normal conversational level to his companion on the bus, upon taking the call, he would start yelling: "HELLO?! WHAT?! NO, I'M ON THE BUS!" Why oh why oh why do these people not understand that it is not necessary to scream into a mobile phone? They have microphones in them.

I do not wish to bore you with more ranting, so instead I will give you a shortlist of subjects, any one of which is guaranteed to set me off for days at a time:

Young people
Old people
New Labour
Americans
The Internet
British Summertime
Simon Rattle
Scousers
Sean ("That's lovely") Rafferty - Father Ted's idiot brother
Non-smokers

Enough. I'm off to The Flemish Weaver, where I will nurse a pint of Holt's mild for three hours.

A few to add to the list:

Middle and upper middle class white kids who try to talk the language 'of the street', and incorporate black American dialect (in a ridiculously caricatured fashion) as part of this self-fashioning (and also watch too much Ali G).

People who treat the staff in their corner shop like they are little more than slaves, but when they enter an expensive clothes shop or the like, adopt an attitude of awe-struck submission towards those who work there.

Supposedly 'foodie' pubs which either dress up very simple dishes in flowery language in order to be able to overcharge for them (e.g. 'Beer-battered, line-caught Cod [followed by elaborate descriptions of the location] together with succulent hand-sliced chipped potatoes cooked in specially imported groundnut oil') or which attract clientele who think that buying some rubbery fish-cakes with the odd chilli in them and some viscous sweet concoction on the side, which no-one in Thailand would recognise, makes them most 'cosmopolitan'.

Adverts (of all types).

What I call the 'strays', (straight wannabee-gays), straight men who bizarrely think they will better attract the attention of certain women who hang around with gay men, by calling a shampoo a 'product' and forever looking narcissistically at themselves in the mirror.

Academics who can't get through two sentences without using the term 'the 'Other''.

All people who refer to a certain brand of something or other in order to say 'I'm a [insert brand here] type of person'.

....the inanity of tv continuity announcers. On ANY channel. ( God, I'm turning into Carol Kohl )

When I read what you go through Morticiaa, I think may be it would be better to say that you mother has no children and let the government to pay everything.
Somehow it will end and I hope you will have something left for yourself.
I wish I could protect you, Morticiaa.

My sympathies too, Mort. It's tough, but deep breathe and things eventually get easier. It does seem as if your Soc Worker got it wrong, though: the other two bodies are entitled to their rent & fees. I hope things work out OK for you: perhaps there's someone who you can ask for help and they will rally round?

Simon x

An excellent suggestion BobbyZ.
Citizen's Advice Bureau could well be the way to go.

Sorry to hear about all of this, Mort.
Will be thinking of you.

...people who invade my personal space. Anyone else suffer from this? I'm sure it's a recent trend. I like to have a quiet pint at a local pub, and usually sit at the bar. The rest of the bar area can be *completely empty*, and yet new arrivals will park themselves right next to me, within INCHES, rather than keep a seemly distance.
Likewise, in queues. Train stations for tickets, cafeteria at work - whatever. People stand so close behind you, they're literally breathing down your neck! Why?!? I like to annoy them by refusing to move forward behind the person in front of me when the queue moves on, for minutes sometimes. But then I'm a grumpy old codger who derives disproportionate pleasure from such things.
GRUMP OVER.