Thursday, June 29, 2006

It's a cuboid.

Ah here, suppose I'd better blog. How are you all keeping? Tell me. I care, I really do.

I'm dandy. "This heavyweight boxer is something to see!" Back on top form after being poisoned by my Wednesday lunch. Be wary of the grub in Robert Reade's pub near Bus Aras, it could very well destroy you as it nearly did me.

Then, after leaving work in the throes of illness yesterday, some prick of a taxi driver thought he was bein' smaaaart when he told me to get a nice chicken curry inside when I went home. When I told him I wouldn't pay for puking all over his dingy tobacco infected motor vehicle he quickly shut the fuck up.

Tossbag.

Sorry for the language, people just vex me sometimes.

Moving away from matters gastric, things have been, well, very quiet for once. I've not seen the inside of an aleing tavern for nigh on a week. Needless to say Davros did his best to coax me out on a couple of occasions, but I opted to disobey the boy Maher to keep the finances and the liver in check for this weekend to come.

Dingle.

Again.

This time, it's a drinkin'. Ollie's birthday on Sunday, you see, so never being a man to do things by halves, he's connived to get ten stalwarts down to Dick Mack's and to Foxy John's and to John Benny Moriarty's et al for serious inebriance.

What else? What I did see of the pub last week was maxful. King Kenny was home at the weekend so we spent a languorous evening downing pints in the Stag's Head. Unfortunately, we got infiltrated by some ne'erdowells from the North, but we gave them short shrift and did our own thing. Cowzer saw to that.

Speaking of Cowzer, get back blogging my son. I've seen the form you're in lately, get it down on blogspot. You've too many tales for them to live solely in your brain. Myself and 5X have been ploughing this furrow alone for too long. Same goes for Julianne, while I'm at it, three entries does not a worthwhile blogger make, and I want to hear no guff about forgotten passwords.

So now.

I'll be back next week.

Things I don't give a shit about this week:

1) Cretinous taxi drivers.
2) Miss Cilla Blaaaack.
3) Game players. Ask yourself what the point is.
4) Chocolate bars that change their names for no reason. Moro Peanut me hole. It's a Star Bar.
5) Aisleyne from Big Brother.
6) Pete from Big Brother.
7) Susie from Big Brother.
8) Big Brother.
9) Francesco Totti.
10) Graham Poll.

Cheese of the week: (Not applicable this week. I'm truly sorry.)

I love you all. Except you. And I don't even KNOW you.

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