When I first heard about FOMO, I thought it was washing powder.
Then I realised I was thinking of OMO, which I didn’t think was around anymore. It is very much around, but it has different names in different countries. In some places it is Skip, Breeze, Ala, Wisk, Surf Excel (but not Surf), Rinso and… wait for it… Persil. Yeah, it is all the same product, and they all claim to be better at removing stains than their rivals.
So, it isn’t OMO. This new acronym thing, FOMO, is “fear of missing out”. It’s a big thing among trendy youngsters who use acronyms for things, songs and even expressions.
FOMO is also used as a cute way to describe naked ambition. A group of 20-year-olds was on social media the other day discussing why Rishi Sunak and Liz Truss were never off the telly now. The youngsters concluded it was because of FOMO.
Wise beyond their years. Mind you, Liz Truss is currently so confident that she is cancelling chats with seasoned interrogators like Nick Robinson. Not a great idea, Lizabeth. I know most votes are probably in, but a misstep can be swift and shocking.
Crikey, our new PMWMDB will be announced before lunch on Monday. That stands for “prime minister who must do better”.
I’m really not bothered who it is or who it isn’t. They are both much of a muchness. Neither one has said anything new to inspire hope. One seems intent on even more austerity and not supporting struggling people, and the other is promising tax cuts but doesn’t know where the money will come from.
Although I don’t care who, I won’t miss the announcement. I know, that’s FOMO right there.
The Don’t Pay movement (encouraging the public not to pay energy bills) is growing
Who knows what else will happen by Monday? Martin Lewis, the Money Saving Expert man, is already popping up on the box saying that the Don’t Pay movement (encouraging the public not to pay energy bills) is growing.
If it reaches a million, they promise to cancel direct debits and just pay nothing. I am feeling something in my water and it is not FOMO. It is FOLO – fear of lights out.
Invermess is giving us FOBO
You have to sympathise with the tour guide who was appalled by the overflowing bins in the Highland capital due to the strike by the refuse technicians.
I got nervous there and thought I shouldn’t be sexist and write binman. There are probably women on the bins, but I don’t recall ever seeing a binlady in the flesh. Mind you, in the winter they whizz around in oversized, cold-weather gear, and you have no idea who is under the oilskin.
Inverness has a litter problem – has done for a long time. But on #BBCGMS this morning in a report on #binstrikes they had Jo De Sylva, co-owner of MacGregor's Bar likening it to Edinburgh. Just cycled through the city centre – absolutely no overflowing bins. Looks normal to me. pic.twitter.com/mlasjt3JmY
— Garve Scott-Lodge (@G4rve) August 27, 2022
I digress. The tour guide was so disgusted with the filth, he suggested the city should be renamed Invermess, with an M.
Come on, that’s funny. It is. OK, maybe not if you are a councillor or other proud Invershneckie figure, obviously, but they should try to smile.
It’s not so much FOMO right now as FOBO – fear of bin out. I hope they resolve the bin strike, and that Invermess doesn’t catch on. We would have to start calling yon monster down at Urquhart Castle by the name Messie. Heck.
BoJo’s definitely got FOMO
By the end of this week, we will hopefully not miss out on the Florida launch of the SLS moon rocket, which was postponed on Monday. It was on the news that the rocket’s pipes were not cool enough for a launch. Chill, man. There were no astronauts on this one, so it wasn’t a case of FOTO – fear of taking off.
Zombie PM Boris Johnson did not want to miss out on a second holiday in a fortnight in Greece. I hear he went to a bank in Nea Makri, east of Athens, as he needed to cash a cheque to pay for his wee kerry-oot.
The diligent cashier said that would be no bother, but he would need ID. Poor Boris hadn’t thought to bring anything. “I am actually Boris Johnson. You know, the prime minister of the UK.” The cashier thought it was him from the news, but these were bank rules. No ID, no cash.
Then the cashier said: “When Gordon Ramsay came in without an ID, he proved he was himself by making delicious fried chicken right there on the desk.
“He called the branch manager a donkey and fired everyone at the fish and chips place next door. That proved who he was and we cashed his cheque. So, sir, what can you do to prove that it is you?”
Johnson stood there scratching his head. Finally, he said: “I have absolutely no idea what to do. Honestly, my mind is a total blank.” The cashier then said: “Ah, so it is definitely yourself, Mr Johnson. Will that be large or small notes?”
Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides
Conversation