Wednesday, October 19, 2005

My sexy ass has got you in a new dimension

Don't try to deny it, my friend, you know it has.

Forgive me such base sloganeering, my virtual compadres, but this type of thing really draws in the punters from the search engines, believe you me. You would be shocked and appalled at some of the filth that people are looking for when they stumble on this fragrant little patch of cyberspace. Who knew that so many that so many website hits could be garnered from folk who take a keen interest in bukkake, eh?

That's bukkake. You know what bukkake is, don't you? (That's enough bukkake - Ed)

Anyhow, moving on to slightly less unpleasant topics, aren't there some dreadful hobbledy-hoys out there? Walking our streets, riding on public transport, fumbling with their purses at the head of irate supermarket queues, these human tics are everywhere.

Only today I was riding the omnibus when this dreadful fat Benny-the-Ball looking teenage girl got onboard, all surly and pouty. A mere two stops later she was up and dinging the bell, wanting to be off. Naturally I felt moved to comment.

"Hoy, pork-rinder!" I called out, "You just got on. You could have walked that distance in two minutes."

"I don't do walking" she replied with a haughty, withering glare before flouncing off to alight the vehicle. Bear in mind that this was not Paris Hilton or Naomi Campbell brattishly insisting on a limo to take her from a movie premiere to an after-party, this was a portly little beetle-browed scratter on board an Arriva bus in Ashington.

I ask you.

The elderly are no better either. Whether it be dogs-arse mouthed old biddies blethering away about late-arriving buses or befuddled old codgers constantly scowling, twitching and muttering away to themselves, no bus journey is possible without a rash of these superannuated pustules clogging up the aisles with their sour-faced grouching and enfeebled complaining.

Now, nobody could ever accuse me of being mean-spirited, niggardly or negative. I do not come on here spouting bile without some wise words of instruction to act as a kind of karmic counterbalance.

"A kind of karmic counterbalance", eh? A bit of spin on the ball with that one and we haven't even got to the honeyed words of wisdom yet.

Well, to be brutally frank, there is no advice to be had here. I am a gentle and refined soul. I go home of an evening, I eat some olives and stilton, sip a decent red and put away a cutlet or two while enjoying the music of Lawrence Welk. I get myself off to bed at a decent hour and curl up with the latest Proust. I live simply and do nobody any harm.

All I say is this. If you have neglected to wash and stink to high heaven, if you think an omnibus is a fitting place to have a loud, cackling conversation with one of your dreadful friends or if you think that the world needs to hear your stupefyingly ill-informed opinions on "the coloureds" then beware. Anyone engaging in this type of anti-social behaviour within my orbit risks a kick in the cunt.

I'll bid you good day.

No comments: