Me Dad is stranded in fucking Peterborough after his train to Leeds has been cancelled. East Coast Bastard Trains would like to apoligise for any inconvenience caused, so that's alright. As it happens leaving you stranded in bastard Peterfuckingbastardborough when you want to be in Leeds does indeed cause quite a fucking bit of bastard inconvenience actually, you twats. Not for you of course, just for the fucking rest of us poor buggers. I vomit in your general direction East Coast Bastard Trains. You don't even qualify for a polished pooh on a plinth so a terrier shit on a stick is yours. I'll leave it in platform 4 at Peterbastardborough station for you. Arseholes.

Managed to snaffle a piece of toast with Utterly Butterly on it this morning. What a load of shite that is. And as you know I'm not a picky eater. It says on the packet that it's supposed to be spreadable straight from the fridge and packed full of the buttery taste you love. Well they score 1/2 on that front. Spreadable straight from the fridge it is, but then again so is diarrhoea (not that we keep any in our fridge you understand). The taste it's packed full of sadly also resembles the latter rather than the former too. Utterly Diarrhoealy it should be called. Shite. I'd send the makers a polished pooh on a plinth but I suspect that they may liquidise it and put it to other uses. As you may have guessed from the lack of blogging lately I've been in Stalag 45 again whilst the two-leggeds went off on holiday. It's not to bad in there in the summer I suppose, apart from the lack of wifi, but it's fuckin freezing in the winter time. Have you ever tried pissin