Friday, June 30, 2006


I went swimming yesterday morning before work, as is my wont.

A perfectly lovely time was being had by all. It wasn't too busy, there was plenty of room for everyone to get past each other and some of the more energetic swimmers weren't there so the rest of us weren't being constantly splashed in the face as they flailed past.

It didn't last long.

At approximately a quarter past seven, a veritable herd of bimbos emerged from the changing area, cantering and braying their way to the pool side. Long blonde hair in varying shades, from ash blonde to honeyed wheat, flicked from side to side. Hands and arms gesticulated vigorously in time with the bovine chatter emanating from their pouting lips.

I stared in horror from the deep end as these creatures descended on my relaxing swim. Where had they all come from? Why pick now? It's 7:15 in the shitting morning, for Christ's sake!

They cautiously entered the water like wildebeest crossing a muddy river. Edging forward slowly until one was at the front being pushed forward by the sheer numbers behind it. Ever watchful for those dastardly crocodiles.

Suddenly the first one fell into the water, closely followed by a couple more who were pushing her a bit too eagerly. I considered looming up from the deep, gnashing my teeth, grabbing one and dragging it down but then realised it would be a futile effort. The ones at the back wouldn't see and would keep pushing until they were all in the pool, then the sheer multitude would preclude any further room to manoeuver, possibly leaving me trampled to death.

So, uncharacteristically, I gave up. Resigning myself to the fact that my swim would be cut short, I submerged and swam to the far side, breaking the surface and hauling myself out onto the poolside to grab my towel and disappear into the showers.

They better not be there next week!


  1. It's not just at the pool you meet these bimbo creatures. You meet them in the woods when you go on your energetic walk. Panting and heavy breathing behind you. Sweating like maniacs and whipping that fake blonde ponytail in your face. I hate them. I hate them. I HATE them.

    The male version I'm not so much against....

  2. phew glad i don't swim haa haa

    lots of moron lager louts about that wolf whistle and don't wear trousers that fit properly around the bottom area yukkkk builders bums ........where's the sick bucket??

  3. Oh fucking hell! I hate it when my gentle and quiet lap swim turns into a nightmare. But I have to contend with small children in swim classes....ARRGGGHHH pissing in the pool and god knows what else they are doing. It makes me cry.

  4. If it's any consolation, their blonde locks will turn green in the chlorine. or at least one can hope.

  5. Don't worry. Their current healthy lifestyle kick will wear off soon enough and you will have the pool to yourself again. And that's as it should be. I mean - 0715????!!! You strange man.

  6. You girls, out of the water now!

    Your making the fish smell

  7. Im sure the life gaurd shares your feelings. Ask him to put way too much chlorine in the pool and watch then dissolve away like the wicked witch of the west

  8. Old blokes with wrinkly tits and bad breath who follow you down your lane trying to crack onto you while you're doing backstroke should also be banned.

    Though I wouldn't recommend sinking the incisors into one of them.

  9. Swimming is unnatural. Surely if you go to the gym and sit in the sauna for 20 mins it is the same as a workout. You still return to your office bright red and sweating.

  10. If it'll make you feel any better about their unwarranted invasion, chlorine;s death on bleached hair.
    Trust me, I used to be a blonde- until a few days ago, actually, but I've now come to my senses, and it's pink.

    Imogen:* x

  11. Hi IDV, sorry I haven't visited for awhile :-)

    I can't stand gaggles of loud people myself so completely understand your disgust. I would have left too.