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Whistling Aceholes

‘Are You Bloody Whistling?’ Unknown Artist, 1534

Welcome to the Party For Non Whistlers and our latest manifesto for this years general election. If we are elected we pledge to:

Ban whistling from all public areas, furthermore anybody caught whistling ‘O’Danny Boy’ or other yesteryear easy listening classics will face an on the spot fine of £100

Whistling on public transport will render the whistler liable to be forcably ejected from said service.

Tuneless whistling will be considered a major offence and will carry a jail term no shorter than two years. Whistlers will be confined to their sound proofed cells and forced to whistle ‘Dancing Queen’ for twenty three hours each day until they are cured of their whistling affliction.

Phantom whistling, or whistling in a crowd to hide identity will not be tolerated. All citizens will carry an anti whistling stick (a small leather truncheon) as a deterrent. Should the whistler be identified all passersby must comply with the required beating until the whistler promises never to whistle again.

Humming is also outlawed, as uncontrolled it leads to whistling.

And so on…

Why whistling? Well, yesterday I had to endure a tuneless version of the Laurel & Hardy theme that almost drove me to violence. There’s nothing worse than a high pitched noise that rambles staggeringly over so many incorrect notes and is punctuated by humming when the tune gets too high for the whistler. I mean this was serious whistling torture, what on earth does whistling offer the whistler? Comfort? Enjoyment? That’s two words that sit uncomfortably with the notion of whistling, the idea of pushing air through lips shaped like you are sucking a pencil brings an uncontrollable urge out in me, it’s like the rage that creates the Hulk. If you want to whistle at me try doing it over there, approximately fifty miles away in the general direction of flick off.


Whilst we are at it another thing I find annoying is at the checkout when the shop assistant insists on chatting to the person behind them as if you wasn’t even there about something other than work. So you can imagine how amused I was listening to who this young lady had pulled the night before and just what antics they got up to as I bought three bath sponges the other day. She was that much in the moment that she hardly turned around and dropped the sponges twice, pressed the wrong button on the checkout and laughed so loudly that she also burped (she made sure she was facing me for that). The other assistant didn’t help, she laughed like a surprised hyena, doubly so at the burp, in fact she laughed so much I thought she was going to collapse as tears streamed down her face.

I toyed with the notion of making her collapse for different reasons, I went in for bathroom products not to be covered in a fetid clingy breath that smelt of boiled eggs and to endure dirty gossip. Walking outside I noticed with dismay whistling coming from across the road and promptly crossed to hit them with my anti whistling stick.

So vote for the Party For Non Whistlers and let’s stop this tuneless menace on our streets, alternatively vote for Say No To Checkout Gossip Belching and banish this uncouth behaviour once and for all.

You know it makes sense!


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