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Saturday 8 February 2014

Twenty-somethings...as useful as a chocolate fireguard...


So, I’ve been doing this training with a random bunch of people. In this random bunch is a group of twenty-something year olds. Oh-my-god. They are the biggest whiners, worriers and old folk I have ever met. They act like 80 year olds – no wait – that’s not fair on 80 year olds who have more life, stamina and verve than this crotchety crew.  

First up food – twenty-somethings can’t have one food group touching another. They also don’t like anything steamed - steamed vegetables start them off on a long wail about how they can’t eat them because ‘they don’t taste right’ and potatotes are really the only vegetable they like as long as it’s fried – and spinach – don’t go there.  Entrees – they don’t want salad. They want something with meat in it – but not lamb and not beef unless it’s got tomato sauce on it. I did ask if they would prefer fricasseed buffalo, fried eye of newt or aardvark liver sautéed in butter. They looked at me blankly, with one stating ‘You just don’t get it.’ No, clearly not and thank god was my response. And mushrooms? They all hate them along with tomatoes and they sit there and pick them out. Ever been at a table of grown ups where they’re dividing their food up like lego blocks? And if you point out tomato sauce is made from tomatoes? It’s not the same thing apparently. Dessert? It has to be pastry with ice cream and fruit is not dessert in their closed twenty-something, spoilt little minds.  

Sleep? They'll whine that they don’t get enough. Why? They’re up all night drinking vodka and cannot function the next day. Well, yeah. Tiredness? An 80 year old could kick their arse when it comes to stamina. Walking up steps? They groan and moan all the way and tell you how much their twenty-something year old legs ache. Crotchety? Oh fuck yes. As for exercise? Apparently only people in their 40’s have to do that. 

Who grew and raised these twenty-somethings? They should be ashamed of themselves. We’re screwed if we have to rely on this piss weak, finicky bunch of vegetable hating vodka drinkers.

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