Fed up of reporting on where Kate Middleton's tits are going to flop out next (it's Denmark today if you are interested), the subject of my ire today is the fucking USDA. A pooh on a polished plinth is winging it's way to Washington as I type. Now that me Dad's moved into his new office I hardly get to see the fat bastard much anyway, and now the USDA changing the release of their report times around mean I'll get to see him even less. The tight bastards. Have you ever tried using a tin opener with paws the USDA? Have you fuck, so get to fuck and change the fucking times back for fuck's fucking sake. An American walked into an English pub and asked for a pint of Budweiser. The barman replied "You're American aren't you?" The man says, "Yeah. Could you tell by the drink I ordered, or the accent?" The barman replied. "Neither, you're the fattest fucker I've ever seen."
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.