Monthly Archives: February 2015

Mucky Twat!

First lets start off with a running fuck slap on all of those Estate Agents out there – lets face it, they just deserve it if for no other reason than they are a lazy bunch of bastards.  Think I am wrong? well, today I made 4 phone calls and 1 email to get through to someone about arranging a viewing on one of their properties.  Best of it all, when you phone up, the options menu greets you, press 1 for lettings blah blah blah, then the next option menu appears, press 2 for viewings, then leave a message on their voice mail because they don’t start work until 10am or are just too busy knocking one out in the toilet.  If you have ever been into Horts Estate Agents in Rugby, you, like me, would appreciate that  you could very easily gob a very sticky greenie from one end of the office to the other and there are never more than 5 people in there so why can’t they just pick up each others phones ? Fucking amazing the lack of service that we accept these days and the amount of complete and utter fuckwits that deliver that lack of service.

Last week I went to a viewing and the fella turned up with the wrong keys !

Anyway, on a lighter note, I had a group iMessage session today with Steve and Rue.  Reading it back afterwards, I suddenly realised what a complete load of bollocks we had been speaking.  It was so far out there that I want to share it with you. So here we go

me – diesel has gone up 8 cents a litre

Rue – Time to fill up save me some !!

Steve – Yep, up to $58 a barrel from 45 – quick to raise prices aren’t they

me – And not so quick to drop them I suspect

Rue – Fuck I just up my prices down yesterday !!

me – Getting back from the store with a fresh loaf only to find you have no butter in the fridge – priceless

Steve – Up my prices down ?  Are you Welsh?

Steve – Who’s coat is this jacket

me – He’s from the Valleys you know

Rue – Rather be called a cunt than Welsh!!

me – How about a Welsh cunt for real effect?

Steve –   🙂

me – Or grumpy cunt

me – ah no – that’s what we call you already

me – How about gummy

Steve – Estate Agent round tonight to value the house

me – I was once referred to as ‘boat boy’ by the 15 year old daughter of a milf I was shagging

me – Do I get first refusal

Rue – Butter is the devils spunk (statement issued by the sunflower spread makers)

Steve – What of ? The mild?

Steve – Milf

Rue – I would rather be grumpy than moving like you too!

me – you are grumpy and we are moving

me – but you are a grumpy twat and that is where the difference lies

Rue – long as I’m not Welsh

Steve – I heard a story, put butter and margarine outside and the flies only land on the butter!

me – Oh fuck, I left a tea bag stewing while I came downstairs for a shit, that will be munted by the time I finish wiping

Rue – Shit one !

Steve – Sometimes it’s quicker to shower

me – I hate wasting pyramid bags

Rue – They’re not for wiping your bum with !

Steve – Ha

me – Stop interrupting me on my wipe cycle

Steve – Dare you to re-use the tea bag after the wipe cycle,  your weird

me – any more interruptions during wiping and I will be forced to turn on facetime

Steve – Ha Ha thank god for the 3GS

me – OK, fresh tea in hand, another tea bag sacrificed

 

So there you have it, general opinion is that girls talk about everything but now confirmed is that boys talk absolute bollocks.

I don’t have anything else to share with you at this moment in time other than a couple of thought for the moment – Being middle aged is not so bad – it is perfectly acceptable to be chasing Gilfs as well as Milfs – Age is just a number!  Alternatively, after watching a big black bird landing on what was a reasonably thin branch the other day, I was left wondering how a bird knows a branch will hold its weight when it lands on it – they must be very successful at gauging this as I have never witnessed a bird/branch fatality, much like I have never seen a swan break someones arm.  Just one of life’s little mysteries.

 

Happy Birthday Bradley

 

!


%d bloggers like this: