There's a great deal of hullabaloo and hokum about Walts, especially in this forum.
I think we all agree that anyone pretending to be in the army deserves a Dry Nipple Cripple from 3 Para Mortars - not least because:
1. Their stories of derring do might actually get them laid. I don't know about you, but mine certainly don't get me laid. Not even the one about John Simpson nicking my 9x9.
2. The fact that someone actually wants to be in the Army sort of undermines our ability to gripe about how sh1t it is.
So, in order to take the power back, I have decided to pretend I'm a civvy. I'm so good at it that not even my closest military friends are sure whether i'm serving or not.
I start with the hair. My sidies are bushy and I use pantene because it has "Provitamin B5" in it. I pretend I don't know what a neck shave is and, if I really want to confuse people, I use Sun-in or Red food colouring to make me look like Freddie Lundberg.
When I'm on leave for longer than 2 days, I grow a goatie. If I don't have time I get my lass to pencil one in with an eye-liner like that Bepe off eastenders.
I tell people I work in property or I'm an actuary. No-one really asks questions then. If I meet someone who actually does work in property or is an actuary, I just say I was in another firm or back out by saying I got RSI from typing and had to leave after 6 months.
I use civilian jargon: lady, downsize, google, cappucino, residuals, Sports Utility Vehicle.
I rarely swear - but if I do, I use a high piched voice and do it really badly:
"Oh Giles you are such a crap"
"Oh fucky do! I've dropped my 3G in my frappalatte"
I count out my exact portion of the bill during group meals, and pay it to the penny.
I tell people that I've worked out a way to avoid paying the congestion charge and make women sleep with me before I tell them.
I talk about my human rights and how other people waste "My Taxpayers' Money" a lot.
I have a Man-bag. It's like a hand-bag, but for men.
I've got a large Swan Vestas box that I've painted black. If I tap on it with with a chopstick it's a palmpilot, if I plug my earphones in it it's an iPod.
All these are useful techniques, but I still slip up sometimes. Only the other day my girlfriend's mother caught me scratching my itchy, sweaty arrse and wiping my hand on her sofa. She nearly sussed me so I burst into tears and sniffled something about baby africans with flies on them.
What else can i do to further develop my waltishness?
I think we all agree that anyone pretending to be in the army deserves a Dry Nipple Cripple from 3 Para Mortars - not least because:
1. Their stories of derring do might actually get them laid. I don't know about you, but mine certainly don't get me laid. Not even the one about John Simpson nicking my 9x9.
2. The fact that someone actually wants to be in the Army sort of undermines our ability to gripe about how sh1t it is.
So, in order to take the power back, I have decided to pretend I'm a civvy. I'm so good at it that not even my closest military friends are sure whether i'm serving or not.
I start with the hair. My sidies are bushy and I use pantene because it has "Provitamin B5" in it. I pretend I don't know what a neck shave is and, if I really want to confuse people, I use Sun-in or Red food colouring to make me look like Freddie Lundberg.
When I'm on leave for longer than 2 days, I grow a goatie. If I don't have time I get my lass to pencil one in with an eye-liner like that Bepe off eastenders.
I tell people I work in property or I'm an actuary. No-one really asks questions then. If I meet someone who actually does work in property or is an actuary, I just say I was in another firm or back out by saying I got RSI from typing and had to leave after 6 months.
I use civilian jargon: lady, downsize, google, cappucino, residuals, Sports Utility Vehicle.
I rarely swear - but if I do, I use a high piched voice and do it really badly:
"Oh Giles you are such a crap"
"Oh fucky do! I've dropped my 3G in my frappalatte"
I count out my exact portion of the bill during group meals, and pay it to the penny.
I tell people that I've worked out a way to avoid paying the congestion charge and make women sleep with me before I tell them.
I talk about my human rights and how other people waste "My Taxpayers' Money" a lot.
I have a Man-bag. It's like a hand-bag, but for men.
I've got a large Swan Vestas box that I've painted black. If I tap on it with with a chopstick it's a palmpilot, if I plug my earphones in it it's an iPod.
All these are useful techniques, but I still slip up sometimes. Only the other day my girlfriend's mother caught me scratching my itchy, sweaty arrse and wiping my hand on her sofa. She nearly sussed me so I burst into tears and sniffled something about baby africans with flies on them.
What else can i do to further develop my waltishness?