Monday, January 10, 2011

Email your son because you are bored.

My mum keeps a jar or 2 of skippy brand peanut butter in the deep desk drawer commonly reserved for the obsolete act of filing. Around 1 or 2pm, as her attempt at a lean lunch proves to be a failure of sustenance once again, a big spoon from the office kitchen is called into service as the ambassador of creamy goodness. I know this because shes my mum, and i know this because following this mouth cement of a daily afternoon treat, i always get an Email.

My spam folder once was the default destination for these little snippets of goober infused thought. However, despite the vast majority of pointlessness I occasionally receive something of dire importance. Peanut butter is both a bullshit producer and a memory stimulant for my mum and its up to me to go through the spread.

I will go through a few of the many categories of pointless email i get everyday and why no matter the reasoning they continue like a juggernaut of uselessness.

O wait, this is illegible, apparently yellow text only works well if your colorblind to white.
ill just highlight this mum.

ahhh much better. this is a "change your life completely" message. It states that st. Mary's College of Southern Maryland has a masters degree program offered in teaching. they accept about 9 students a year at a rate of something around 20,000 us $ a year. excluding the fact that i have little or no interest in teaching and have adamantly expressed so for many years, this education is offered a solid 3000 miles from my current residence and has about as much bearing as fax machines on my daily life.

not much to say here... not a software engineer nor do i have any experience with programming anything other then logic in 3rd grade. think that is a "misguided employment suggestion" email
This is the "i watched entertainment tonight last night over a bottle of wine" message.
i think it speaks for itself...

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Welcome to embarrassing mums

I met Nate Davis in my previous house in Bournemouth when the Icelandic volcano destroyed his travelling intinerary and took his luggage to a better place.

He got in touch through Couchsurfing and night after night he just wouldn't fucking leave, so we put him in some stupid (and fairly scary) short films which are still yet to be put online.
We also discussed mums.

I enjoyed his conversations with his mum and he enjoyed my corresspondence with my mum (mostly via email; even when I'm in her house - such as today; see below)

This is how Embarrassing Mums was born; a blog on the elegant art of embarrassing your children.

If we share our pain, we're no longer victims.


My mum emailed me earlier today with this while I was 30ft away in the kitchen: