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Showing posts from November 6, 2011

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&#

And I'll Cry If I Want To

Yesterday was my birthday, but there was to be no "did I really sleep with a six month old Labrador?" morning hangover for me, oh no. My hopes of a night on the lash with me Dad were cruelly dashed on the rocks of despair when he took me Mum out for a bloody Chinese instead. On MY birthday. Can you believe it, because I surely can't. The dirty rotten tight bastards didn't even bring me a doggie bag back, not a spring roll nor kiss my canine arse. Zilch. Two hours in the dark. Just me and a pig's ear, that's all I got for my chuffin' birthday "present" - I use the word in it's loosest form. Well now we all know where we stand, I'll be making sure that they take the hint by leaving them lots of little presents of my own. Starting with the chocolate sausage I secreted round the back of the telly this morning. She NEVER cleans behind there the slovenly cow, so let's see how long it takes them to spot that rascal. I can't wait for me D

It's My Birthday!

Yes folks, three years young today is what I am. I can't wait to open all my presents later, I wonder what they've got me? I do hope it's the iPad. Three is what, twenty one in human terms? Me Dad is probably going to take me out for a few pints, we'll go for a curry and end up in that new club in town, Springerfellows. The spaniels in there will do anything for a bit of bonio I hear. I'd better spruce myself up a bit, give the old 'nads a bit of a lick and see if I can do something about me pooh-encrusted collar before I get in amongst those puppies. Woohoo, bring it on, I haven't been this excited since next door's cat got knocked down by the bin lorry.