This is one small step for... errrrr??????

I'm getting fed up with all this patronising shit about Bruce Jenner. Fair enough, he wants to dress as a woman, have a woman's name, get the lady parts, generally be a woman. Carry on, mate, but just one thing... YOU'RE A MAN, YOU'RE BIOLOGICALLY A MAN, YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A MAN.
I want to be a cosmonaut but I never will be. I can buy all the gear, I can get all the airbrushed photos made up I like. I could buy badges and certificates and claim I'm a pilot and all sorts of shit... but I'm never going to space and never will.
So crack on supporting Caitlyn, but don't get up my nose trying to show what a great person and how liberal you are. Oh, and remember, he's still a he!

P.s I am batman though!

Waitrose? More like Wankrose!

Funny how the least interesting people have the loudest voices.
As I was in its neck of the woods (I went Go Outdoors to buy some trainers for my Spartan run next week. Yeah, I'm great) I thought I'd pop into Waitrose for a spot of lunch. Aren't rich people cunts! If it wasn't some posh old sod in a Pokemon hoody invading my personal space in the queue, it was some spoilt, scrawny, plum-voiced,  bellend in a bobble hat, vaping and talking absolute dross about how easy it is to build a wall to his jodhpur wearing, lady muck, mum. Every other word was either "fucking" or "literally", it was really tainting my burger, chips and pot of tea (£9.95). This guy was quite literally a fucking arsehole. I had to tell him to mind his p's and q's or I'd batter him with his fish and chips (£8.95). I asked his mum if it was her son and why she let's him speak like a little yob, we're not in Yates' Wine lodge now. They soon left.
It was a cacophony of deafening braggards. I'd definitely go again though, posh people are excellent to watch, their heads are so far up their own arses, their ears are already full of shit so they have to speak up to hear the extra shit coming out of their mouths. It's a vicious cycle!

P.s the guy in the bobble hat passed his driving theory test fourth time of asking and his mum drove a 52 plate Peugeot 206. Make of that, what you will......... TOSSERS!!!!

That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more!

Hooray, it's 'International Dance Day' today, finally!!! Walking down any busy street is ideal for practicing the "foxtrot oscar" for this glorious day of days.
CHRIST! How annoying is it having to dance down a busy street because the majority of pedestrians can't be arsed to pay attention and are too engrossed in Angry Birds?! Would you walk down the street reading a book? Would you walk down the street backwards? Would you walk down the street on just your hands? No? Really? Is that because you possibly couldn't see where you were going? Then why do I have to change my line of path to accommodate your shitty game of Candy Crush Saga? You selfish, ignorant, toss-rag.
I actually hope you get run over by a steamroller, driven by a shark, with AIDS... unless you're reading this. FUCK!!!

Letters from ME-OW Jima!

Basically a collection of emails I've written to various companies when I feel aggrieved by their service for some reason or other... which is most of the time! Also some screenshots from when I've tried, and usually succeeded in, winding someone up on the Facebook, for shits and giggles, like.
Gutted that I must've deleted the ones to West Cornwall Pasty Company, I was flirting outrageously with the lady dealing with me, at least I think it was a lady, Derek's a lady's name, right?! I got three free large pasties and any drink of my choice for that one, all for being overcharged. I try to keep them lighthearted, so hopefully, even though I'm complaining, the person reading it is having a little chuckle. It must be quite depressing working in Customer Services dealing with pricks like me all day. Still, that's no reason not to complain! Power to the people!

EE bah gum, I say EE bah gum that's a bit crap, lad!

Remember when phones were real phones, you could count on them back in the day. You didn't go a week without reading a story in the redtops about someone using their phone as a cricket bat in a bar room brawl. I'm pretty sure the Nokia 3310 wiped out the dinosaurs!
Those days are long gone, you only have to have garlic on your pizza for lunch and that's enough to shatter the screen when you speak into it. I dropped mine from about a foot yesterday and it stopped working.
What an awesome service by EE, I've already got the replacement. I'm still complaining though, I've nearly finished the email as you read this. Bring back borstal I say!

Feels like I'm in Labour... but the only thing being delivered is shit!

Usually, when I get junk mail, I rip it up, stick it in the prepaid envelope and post it back 'whence it came'. Spam's a bit different though, I wonder if this works...

Jamelia opened a can of worms... and the fatties ate them all!

Why all the brouhaha? Oh yeah, because 64% of the UK's population are now chubby funsters. That's a majority. It's similar to the shit storm that surrounded Jamie Oliver when he had the audacity to try and get schools to make their school dinners healthier. When Jamelia said dumplings should be made to feel uncomfortable when they're shopping for clothes, she obviously didn't mean for someone to follow them around the store with a pointy stick shouting abuse through a loud-hailer.
Why are lard-arses so sensitive?
Listen, Fat Albert, stop moaning like a beached whale, cut down on the sugar, carbs, kebabs and fizzy drinks. Leave the mobility scooter in the garage, and use the pizza-stained sports attire your fat arse stretched out of shape for what it was originally intended... exercising, it's made for exercising. DON'T WEAR LYCRA!!!

P.s what cunty chops Katie Hopkins said this week was infinitely worse!

Blah blah blah, bullshit. Blah blah blah, nope, that's bullshit too...

17 years ago a dog was born. It was named Allen, after Clive Allen. Allen was the runt of the litter but was a fighter.
Even though he was the runt, he was the first of his doggy brothers and sisters to be picked out by the West family and their young son Timmy, who was blind. Or rather Allen chose them. As soon as the West family walked in to the barn of the puppy farm, he could feel that Jimmy had disablements. Allen padded up to him and licked his blind little face, almost as if to say "hey, it's ok, human, it's ok."
As the years passed, Allen felt his and the boy's bond was growing stronger by the day. Allen would eat Timmy's food off his plate when he thought he was struggling. He would push chairs out of the way so Jimmy would fall to the floor, sometimes cracking his head. "I've seen children break their backs like that." Myra, the Mum, would laugh, thinking she sounded like a teacher, when really she was just a lowly dinner lady and sometimes prostitute. Allen knew though that Timmy wanted to be down on the floor with him.
Then, one day, a fed up, malnourished, crippled, blind Timmy, hobbled lamely into the local police station. He told the officer on duty of his horrible woes. Sergeant Murray put his strong hand on the boy's weak shoulder, looked him dead in the unseeing eyes, and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed like the policeman in that song 'The Laughing Policeman' by Charles Jolly (the pseudonym of Charles Penrose). And then had him sectioned.
"Good dog", Myra and Fred said in unison when they heard the news. They hated that little bastard kid.

You know, if you share one of those heartfelt true tales on Facebook? Just Google it first, chances are it's a crock of shit (italics, fuck you Facebook).

Welcome to my world

Hi, and thanks for at least reading these first eleven words. Thirteen now. Fourteen!
Figured I'm gonna start blogging because I don't really want to rant on Facebook anymore. And I can do italic writing on here, fuck you, Facebook, I can't italicise (not sure if thats even a word) my writing on you. But if I can, please accept my humble apologies.
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, my blog. Everyone's blogging nowadays, there's some right old guff out there so I'd figure I'd clog up the dung heap even more with some of my own turgid shit. On here you'll find my daily thoughts (depending if I have any), letters(emails) of complaint, arguments, awesome(terrible) songs I've written, witty things I wish I'd thought up hours before etc. Basically a diary, dickhead.
Please be patient while I figure out how to work this, and leave comments if you can. I think you can, I hope you can. The comments you leave can be as cutting as you like, I really don't mind if you troll me, it will be fun.
Love you guys x

P.s turns out italicise is a word. FUCK YOU, STEVEN(sic) FRY!

P.p.s if my Mum's reading this, sorry for the swears. Bloody predictive text!