Thursday 4 September 2008

Take off your shitting shoes, you shit

For Squeaky. I hate so many of the things he chooses to be, yet I still love the bastard. He must be doing something right.

When you come into my house, you take off your shoes. I have no problem telling some jumped-up little prick to remove his grubby little fashion-flops, regardless of whether I've met the bastard or not.

What bothers me is that some cunts don't take it as given that they should take off their shoes. Shoes are for wearing outdoors. They protect your feet from the cold and cushion your soles. They also give domesticated man the chance to distinguish between home and outside, or private and public space.

To wear shoes in someone's house - friend or stranger - is beyond insulting. Shoes, which step in shit, piss, mould, cum, gum, fags, dirty bags and all kinds of dirty slag, scum, opposite-of-fun shite and the like, should not enter the clean homes of individuals. I'm so embarrassed to come from a country where taking your shoes off when you enter someone's house is not the norm. I believe it's the same in the US, too.

Plus, it's comfortable for both the guest and host if the cunting guest takes his shoes off. It shows that the host has welcomed the guest into his home, and that the guest doesn't have a I'm-just-stopping-off attitude to being in the host's house.

2 comments:

JHarris2 said...

Well exactly. Upon arriving in my old
girlfriend's house in St. Petersburg I was presented with one of a selection of sets of slippers. As well as being eminently practical to prevent slush getting on the carpet, it was a welcoming gesture to slip into a pair of what the Scottish call 'baffies'. Since then I have never gone anywhere without my baffs and have learnt the word in multiple European languages. My favourite remains the Russian: Та́почки, which my ex abbreviated to tapki.

Käsetorte said...

Nice, nice. Split-arses do like a man with slippers. Although I do find the slipper to be a bacteria trap if worn excessively without a regular wash.

A good pair of sausage-munching, Bosch-invented Birkenstocks is my best recommendation. These are anomalous because they can transcend the indoor-outdoor divide with a quick mop-down of their easy-to-wipe rubber soles.