Boating Twunt
Me and the missus live in an alright part of our fair city. Problem is is that the neighbour is an unemployed dope smoking, rave music mentalist who thinks is it in the community spirit to get everyone to listen to freaking techno at 3 in the morning. This guy does fuck all and loves it, and it gets on my tits something cronic. And then there are his friends, all of them fucking mindless jobless commonsenseless pissflaps. As was proven when I came home after working away all week quite late and nearly ran into the back of his friends cars that were in our parking bay. I asked him to move it and he said that I should park somewhere else. I disagreed and then edged to the back of his car and pushed the piece of shit maxed out Nova forward by a yard or two. His face was indeed a picture.

Now I don't mind a bit of music, and as Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine prophecised, "The Rhythm is Gonna Getcha", and it invariably does, to the point of going over there and knocking his fucking door in and asking him politely to turn it down or he'll be eating his teeth. I have already made the call on this one.

Now what there is no fucking need for is the cunting boat in the back garden. A cunting boat?!?!?! I work my arse off in a very good job but can ill afford to get a new door for mybeloved mini, let alone a fucking BOAT. Did I mention that he has a fucking BOAT in his back garden? A boat that he has sanded down to within an inch of it's bouyancy. And then, Oh, and then he has to test the twatting engine out. For the love of a good whore, it's never seen a cup of water let alone a lake full of it. I have borrowed a friends air rifle and have now blasted holes in it's hull.

That'll learn the chav bastard, that'll learn him.

/end Captain Jobless rant

P.S. First Post, Big Hand Clap!!

Just becasue you're not feeling anything doesn't mean I lack length or girth. Have you ever thought it could be because of your baggy cnut?
(matflat, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:45, Reply)