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Bluebottles

What's the fucking point of bluebottles eh? There's one in the lounge right now and it's doing my fuckin swede in with it's irritaing buzzing shit. I mean I know we are supposed to love all God's creatures and all that, and I'm sure that they are supposed to do a very important job in the eco-chain or something. Like James Milner. He has a job to do, he just choses not to do it and runs (or in the case of bluebottles flies) around going nowhere and banging his head against the window. Watch out once the warm weather finally comes, if you leave the back door open for more than thirty seconds you'll end up with James Milner running around your kitchen like a demented I don't know what before he regurgitates his lunch of cow shit, or whatever it is they eat, up onto your bacon sandwich. The dirty get. That's what they do you know, I'm not mucking about. They can eat up to eighty four times there own body weight in regurgitated shit every half hour you know. I read that on the back of me Dad's paper the other week. At least I think that's what it said. To be honest reading isn't my strong suit, but there was definitely a picture of James Milner on the back page, so the article was clearly something to do with shit.

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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

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...

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 ...