A man and his dog, trying to make sense of it. A man trying to cook, while avoiding the dogs Cato like attempts to brain him. A man trying very hard not to complain about his working day. A man of no faith, who worships Birmingham City. A man who loves the sort of music that gets him labelled with bad words. .A dog with little brain but great appetite. Welcome to our world.. a world full of wife, children, cats and vegetables. A good world.
Friday, July 04, 2008
1952 Vincent Black Lightning
There are volumes and volumes of Rough Trade albums to be downloaded, if you are so inclined: they might even be available to buy. Whatever, you can stick your Stax and your Sun and your Atlantic, you can ever reconsider your Motown: Rough Trade is the best label there has ever been.
I was walking through our local Asda earlier, hoping to get at the Feta after the large and intemperate family moved on, when the large and intemperate mother gave the the cute and over tired daughter an almighty fucking wallop and advised her that next week, she was leaving her at home, on her own, and then social services would come and take her away. My flabber was gasted.
Why do all the men in our local Asda have crops and wear vests and strut and why do all the women just chew and chew and chew and chew. Are they all on fucking qat?
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1 comment:
should have filmed the thug bitch on yer mobile and called the police.
The blokes are loike that cos they are ignorant pigs
The wimmin are merely cultured
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