Skip to main content

Dr Dre My Arse

Me Mum has been pressing the teenager for a Christmas wish list, amongst which is a set of "Dr Dre cans" whatever the hell they are. Upon asking for a translation it seems that the normally shy and retiring one (if you can get two words out of her we normally put the bunting up for a week) means a set of headphones. So me Mum pops onto the world wide web to see how much these things are and they start at £100 and go upwards from there! I don't know who Dr Dre is, but I strongly suspect that his medical qualifications are somewhat limited. I mean you never hear anyone say: "I think he's having a heart attack, quick, send for Dr Dre" do you? So I've checked him out online and it appears that he's really called Andre Romelle Young who has produced albums for the likes of Snoop Dogg - who it appears isn't a real dog either! "The doctor" has apparently achieved critical acclaim with the unforgettable classics "Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang" and "Fuck wit Dre Day (and Everybody's Celebratin')" - the latter I think being a cover version of an old Rolf Harris hit from the 70's. Needless to say the teenager has been informed that her chances of obtaining said "cans" from Santa are somewhat limited as "he has a lot of children to buy presents for you know - including all the ones in Ethiopia and Wales." Neither the plasma telly nor iPhone are likely to put in an appearance on Christmas morning either it seems. That's the problem with the kids of today isn't it? They expect the bloody moon to be gift wrapped and handed to them on a plate in return for "I cleaned me teeth twice last month so what's your problem?". Talking of presents my birthday iPad hasn't shown up yet. It was the 64 gig 3G version I asked for as well. Bloody Amazon.

Popular posts from this blog

Fucking Passwords

Create a password..... cabbage Sorry, the password must be more than 8 characters.... boiled cabbage Sorry, the password must contain 1 numerical character. 1 boiled cabbage Sorry, the password cannot have blank spaces. 50fuckingboiledcabbages Sorry, the password must contain at least one upper case character. 50FUCKINGboiledcabbages Sorry, the password cannot use more than one upper case character consecutively. 50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArse,IfYouDon'tGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, the password cannot contain punctuation. NowIAmGettingReallyPissedOff50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArseIfYou DontGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, that password is already in use! See  Fucking phone calls too
Read more

My Mate Frank

Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa...
Read more

Snow

Bloody snow, I hate the stuff. It snowed here on Saturday, which meant that my Sunday morning constitutional consisted of me running around Horseshoe Field at Conyngham bollock deep in the wretched white stuff tying to put on a display of pleasure for the two-leggeds. "Ah look at him, he loves snow," they'd say. "Look at him running and jumping around in it." Well you'd run and jump around if your bollocks were dangling in snow wouldn't you? Me poor little paws were frozen solid by the time we got back to the car. Pooh count: two, both of them "steamers" - in fact one of them was giving off so much vapour it reminded me of Drax power station, except a bit smaller and browner obviously. And it probably couldn't have powered 20,000 homes in Pontefract. A small pensioners bungalow maybe. As long as they didn't have all the lights on, and the bath running. They don't have many baths pensioners do they? One a month maybe, so the chances ...
Read more