Went for nice walkies on the beach at Saltburn yesterday, had a great time. Apart from the town being over-run by bikers that is. What do these podgy wankers think they are? Fat, leather-clad bell-ends living in a fucking time warp, that's who they are. With their fucking wanky spotted bandanas, motorhead tee-shirts, enormous beer-bellies and fucking pathetically stupid faux viking helmets, hogging the roads, pumping out toxic exhaust fumes all over the fucking place. The roads were fucking well full of the twats out for possibly the last nice weekend of the year. Shot the fucking lot of them I say. You're not James Dean, you're a fat old twat who still lives at home with his Mum who spends half the day de-greasing a carburetor on the kitchen table and the rest in his bedroom watching porn before Mum brings him his tea on a tray. Get a fucking life, you sad bastard.
Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa...