Then a one of these got out of it?
Fantastic!
Do you think Princess Anne has a Princess on Board notice hanging in the back window of her Range Rover? Of all the people in the world, she really is the only one who should have one. I suppose Beatrice and Eugenie could, but they don't really count for much princess-wise. When it comes to HRHs, the Princess Royal is top of the shop.
"Angel on board" Hark! Peace on Earth, good will unto men. Do not fear for I bring you great news this day: they're giving away a free top wash with every £30 of petrol at the Shell garage!"
Cocque au vin
This is the French name for chicken in wine sauce, whereas "cock au van" refers to the fucking idiot in the people carrier who decided to stop in the middle fucking big clearway without indicating, just so he could look at a roadsign.
Wanker.
Garden bling
Cock au manky vest is of course my scumbag neighbour. For the past couple of nights, I've been kept awake by the sound of what I thought was some sort of pheasant/goose/fox creature honking or barking its way through the night. I've just realised what it really is: yes, yet another fucking wind chime hanging from my stupid cunt neighbour's washing line. This particular garden adornment is a wooden thing that makes the most ridiculous noise all through the fucking night. How can anybody find these things relaxing or nice? It's beyond me how people don't realise how much frigging disturbance they cause. What is wrong with people that, with every single thing that they do, they simply have to do things that cause a disturbance?
This is the last straw: I'm going to burn their house down later. Useless, waste of space, sponging, lazy, greedy, fuckers. Since all their garden bling has essentially been paid for with my money, I feel it's my right to go round there and take it back. Then burn it in a nice bonfire.
Friends reunited
I got an e-mail yesterday from a woman who I knew when I was at secondary school. She was one of the nice ones; most girls were a bit self obsessed and shallow, with only a few who were actually capable of stringing a sentence together without them falling into tears over some boy who'd been two-timing them. We'd done that "friends reunited" catch up e-mail thing a few years back, but not maintained contact. I've always said that people tend to stay in touch with good friends, but it's always nice to know how other folk are getting on and that.
Anyway, and this is the spooky bit, she e-mailed me because she'd discovered my blog by accident. Totally by accident by a link from another blog. How scary is that?
I wonder if my twat neighbours know how to use a computer? They can obviously read because they know how to fill out benefit claim forms, but I'm not sure whether they've advanced to the internet yet.
Stalked
For the past couple of years I had the pleasure of working with an exceptional colleague. She left her post last week and has gone on to greater things. However, during her time with us, she often claimed to know what my blog was called, despite me refusing to let anybody at work know about it. She left a parting clue that might indicate that she wasn't calling my bluff and she might actually know about this creation of mine. Personally, I can't believe that people would expend energy on trying to find it, but some folk are a bit odd.
Although I don't generally go on about that particular set of colleagues, I think I did on one occasion. She can't have read the bit where I mentioned her saying pacific instead of specific because she still got it wrong to the day she finished!
Knock three times if you're there Cara.
11 comments:
Every time a housing association house becomes available near me some doleite sponger jumps to the top of the list because they didn't bother with contraception.
The locals that need a house can't get one.
I think you need to invest in an air rifle. That should deal with the wind chime problem.
An air rifle is far too tame. I want a rocket launcher.
How about a flame thrower. I've always wanted one.
Not forgetting my taser too! I'd love a taser.
Oh Annie and I got back a long way.
She forgave me once
And smiled at me, while shaking my wet sticky hands.
She's the bestest Royal ever, and that from a catholic Irishman is something
Cock o' van.
This made me laugh out loud when it happened. No indicators, no chance at guessing waht teh fuck he was doing and yet Sniffer managed to bounce out the one liner before we'd even gone past him.
"Knobrot"
He was a bit of a cock, wasn't he?
I like Anne too, she's a good un.
The drivers were complete retards here today, myself included. Must be the something in the air. I racked up a good thousand dollars in bodydamage to my car in a split second. Fucking telephone pole got right in my way, jumped outta nowhere, I tell you! Tomorrow, I will peddle my ass to work on my bicycle.
Trump has a word for people like you:
"dibdob"
A dibdob?
I don't know how to respond to that. A dibdob....
I have one of those magnets on my car [/shame] It says "scrapbooker on board." I've tried to pry the fucker off, but the magnet has fused with my car.
Princess Anne? Meh. I suppose she's ok. Personally, I like Andrew - he was quite adventurous pre-Fergie, wasn't he?
And as far as your neighbors are concerned, you should try making a complete nuisance of yourself to bug them for a change. Some firecrackers on their doorstep? Every night for a month?
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