What have they all got in common you might wonder. Well, the answer is that they all do my fucking head in. Especially on a Bank Holiday weekend. Spent in the back of the car. There's still snow on the bastard ground, but it's Easter so the fucking caravan bastards are out in their fucking droves. Slow droves that is. Droves only surpassed by the fucking motor fucking cyclist wankers every bastard where. Hogging the pissing road in their droves. Groups of like-minded fat balding wankers clad in leather with their delusions of being Dennis Fucking Hopper. To cap it all we have Classic Fucking F Fucking Bastard M playing George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue on the radio. What a load of unmitigated shite that is. Rhapsody in Pooh more like. They're playing the top 300 classic hits of all time. At least that's what they tell us they're playing, in reality it's just a load of tunes nicked from the telly. Including the theme to the Antiques Fucking Roadshow. The Wanktiques Roadshow more like. And what on earth does Fiona Bruce think she looks like? Never in all my born days has anyone so desperately needed a helping hand from Gok Wan than poor old Fiona. She looks like her gran has died, and thrifty Jock that she is, Fiona has thought to herself, well, there's a wardrobe full of shit clothes here, I might as well wear the fuckers. Get to fuck the lot of you. Woof.
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.