Look at you.
Who are you? What do you do? Are you common? I know that it is not very politically correct to ask this question however it needs to be asked. I know that I am common, mainly from the state of my shoes, but also because I eat like a duck with two mouths and I’ve never paid more than £20.00 for a plate of food. I am safe in the knowledge that I am common.
How can I be sure of this though? Is there a test I can take?
Of course there is. Following on from the raging success of my Cake ‘Appropriate Girlfriend (short skirt, long jacket)’ questionnaire now comes the ‘How Common are you?’ questionnaire, mainly based on the lyrics of the popular song ‘Common People’ by Pulp. Depending on how many of these metaphysical boxes you tick (because I don’t know how to ‘do’ boxes on here) dictates how common you, as in you, are. Take a squint at these.
Have you ever:
- Rented a flat above a shop?
- Cut you hair?
- Got a job?
- Smoked some fags?
- Played some pool?
- Pretended you never went to school?
Based on these, I can tick five out of the six boxes. I have never officially got a job and instead make my money by spinning pennies for sailors down at the socks. Do we still have docks? Yes, we still have docks.
That’s what I do. How common are you?
17 comments on “Are you Common?”
Based on the results of this very thorough and in-depth survey, I also score 5 common points. However I have never rented a flat above a shop.
What you get up to with sailors’ socks is your own business my friend.
We aint judging. (We are judging).
Ah, silly me. Another typographical error and I didn’t even realise. What a to do.
I meant to write down at the ‘Qocks’, a very popular haberdashery down by the Tyne Bridge.
I am four out of six common. I live in a flat above a shop at the moment, so perhaps that counts for two, in which case I’m a solid five.
If Jarvis specifically stated ‘rent a penthouse above a mattress shop’ then you would be awarded a bonus point. As it happens I’ve re-listened to the song four times now and I am 65% sure he doesn’t say that.
If we’re bringing Jarvis into this, Jarvis didn’t specifically specify what type of shop or what type of flat.
A penthouse is a type of flat. A mattress shop is a type of shop. Therefore I’m common. Suck it up.
That… is a valid point and one which I have no response to other than, “I think you’re right.”
You still don’t get a bonus point though.
Ha. I’m so common. And you’re sucking it up. Right now. Like a straw.
You, on the other hand, have never cut your hair and you don’t currently live in a flat above a shop, so you’re virtually aristocracy.
Owl have shrew know that I have never been anywhere near close to being anywhere near to what could possibly be interpreted as aristocracy. In fact, virtual aristocracy is even worse.
You see you, sir, you’re a pig.
There’s no need for that.
I THINK THERE WAS. THERE WAS EVERY NEEDS FOR THAT. FOR THAT. FAT.
You know what? I was accidentally leaning on the ‘angry’ key on my keyboard during that last bit. I am sorry, Chris.
You weren’t leaning on it when you called me a pig. Your sorries are a sorry substitute for a serious sorrying.
What says sorry more than the word ‘sorry’?
Cash
Quiet, you!
He’s right, you know. If you supplemented that fiver you already owe me with another fiver and sent that my way, that would be one big ass sorry right there.
How about I send you two fivers worth of tiny squares of kitchen roll instead? Only the coolest cats have tiny squares of kitchen roll.
And lentil curls.
It’s a good idea but I think it would cost more in postage. Tell you what: you just send me two fivers, and I’ll promise to spend them on a wealth of tiny kitchen roll squares.