Christmas my arse, I for one hate it. All I get is left at home on me own whilst they all go out on the piss. Didn't get me tea until half past six one night. Half past bastard six. Me stomach thought me throat had been cut. We're nearly out of pigs ears as well, and I don't expect these tight-fisted buggers to cough up for any more in the New Year. Just 'cos they're planning on going on a diet, why do I have to go on a fucking diet? I'm not a great big fat bloater. They are. And another thing, Christmas presents, what are they all about? People spending loads of money to buy other people, many of whom they can't stand, presents which they don't like or shit that they've got already? Me Dad got one of them Bonnie Tyler Sat Navs. Shit it is. Keeps telling him to turn around and every now and then it falls apart. Fucking rubbish. Arse.
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.