Shit on my balls!
Shit on my balls!
Damn. Suddenly all the interesting people came back, and I can't join in
Yes. I'm sort of back.
Right, now I'ma take my road bike for a 20-something mile ride out on the countryside, where I'll chillax until sunday evening, probably.
I'll see you nurds later.
Last edited by Snee; 08-06-2010 at 04:37 PM.
Afternoon.
I'm feeling a bit furtive c'est soir. I'm all alone in this cavernous three up two down, the missus and the progeny having ruck-sacked off to Wicklow in a getting back to pseudo-nature affair I comprehensively refused to have any part of.
Strategist that I am, the beef curry and fried rice has been neatly medicine-boxed for later's inevitable emergency. I am imbibing the vino rouge, getting wopped on the finest of ganja, playing xbox, listening to musics at volume,, posting wank on the internets, leaving the toilet seat up, and masturbating furiously in my own feces.
In that order.
I'm watching the Norwich v Watford game.
It seems very unfulfilling now.
Is unfulfilling even a word.
Bookmarks