Fucking great aren't they? Why do kids drop them, that's what I wanna know? And when the soft fuckers have dropped them, why don't they pick them up and eat them? I mean, they've only been on the floor for fuck's sake. The answer to why they don't pick them up and eat them is 'cos their Mum tells them not to. "That's dirty Chantelle, leave it alone and eat your ice cream, your crisps, or this family size bag of tangfastics, or have a slurp of your Coke and a Mars Bar." Chantelle is of course a fat fucker, just like her Mum, who smells strangely of fish, and is sweating like a glass blower's arse. If Chantelle had dropped her fruit pastille on the carpet at home then there'd probably be cause for a trip to A&E, but this is the pavement, it's a clean as a fucking whistle compared to Billingsgate Betty's house. She's huffing and puffing away trying to push the pram up a massive 0.00001 degree incline, with an arse the size of the Central African Republic, her great big sweaty hand clutching Chantelle's wrist, fruit pastilles and chocolate buttons cascading down the street. Worst of all they're both ginger. Yes, somebody has bred with this, I can only assume a gentleman also of said follicle affliction. Surely the authorities could do something about this? There must be a spare zoo going somewhere? David Attenborough must know of one. "And here we have the Ginger Munter, sitting in a pool of it's own sweat. It has a vociferous appetite and must eat it's own body weight in pizza and choc-ices every day just to survive. See how it shies away from the sunlight, which can turn it's mottled skin bright red in a matter of seconds. Many have these little brown spots all over their bodies, and pubes like brillo pads so that when they mate they become locked fast together, and that's where we got the idea for Velcro. A mature female, like this one, can weigh up to 26 stones and frequently smells or rotting turbot. I'll entice it over with this KFC bargain bucket, a steal at only £12.99 including a Vienetta and 2 litres of coke, to get it to come over here to the bars..."
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.