You tasteless bastards. Firstly they've pissed me Dad off for ages now by constantly emailing him their special offers kicking off with "Hello D" as they haven't got his full fist name on their computer just his initial. Today they top the whole fucking lot by emailing him to say "D, you’d look good in a onesie!" The soft twats. He'd look like Elmer Fucking Fudd at bedtime in a onesie that's what he'd look like. The thought of it is frankly abhorrent and only serves to make me want to dig this fucking tunnel out of this shit hole for the bright lights of Brigg even faster. Woof. Meanwhile you can imagine how thrilled I was to read that Burger King are now doing home delivery. That said, you have to live in Los Angeles or Sacramento to qualify, which puts me at something of a 5,500 mile geographical disadvantage really doesn't it? My cup fucking runneth over. Not. Twats. Sausages on home delivery that's what Border Terriers want. The Dial-...

With your annoying fucking bastard fucking texts. I don't want tickets to see "Being Tommy Cooper" right. He was shit (and a wife beater too, allegedly) when he was alive so I don't suppose his act has got any fucking better now that the useless lanky fez topped fucker is pushing up the fucking bastard daisies has it? "The brand new sensational show celebrating Britain's all time favourite comedian" That's a pretty fucking bold statement as well isn't it? If he was that fucking good then you wouldn't have to resort to texting fucking Border Terriers like me to try to persuade me to go to see the sad fucker's show would you, you useless gang of twats. Get to fuck with your fucking reminders about how many fucking free bastard fucking texts I've got left as well you fuckwits. I'm trying to dig a fucking tunnel here, I haven't got time for you and you're text spam shite. Have I made myself clear? Oh, and happy birthday to me ...