Showing posts with label Max Branning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Max Branning. Show all posts

Tuesday, 4 August 2009


Today was a good day. Even the disapproving gub on the woman that works in the offies had softened a little today. Aloysius exited the sho
wer today in the nude. He has a habit of doing this. When he’s in there I have to go round the house closing all the curtains so the kids playing out on the street don’t catch an eyeful and I am subsequently labeled a paedophile. So he exited the shower and I’d a cup of coffee waiting for him.

I was feelin’ round my bollocks there and I thought I felt a lump, then I realized it was just my other bollock. It’s Robbie Williams fault. When we were in school they showed this health video to educate you on how to check for testicular cancer. That pug faced little shit appeared camera left wearing a pair of fake tits over a England football jersey. He pointed at the tits and said ‘most men spend too much time thinking about these,’ then the camera panned down and he grabbed his nuts, ‘when they should be worrying about these.' I was not a fan, but something about his delivery, the graveness of his message touched my soul and I’ve been checking my nuts ever since.

In the afternoon we went to visit our mutual friend Bosco. Bosco says he has a plan for infiltrating the Scientologists, but he can’t tell me it yet as he hasn’t finalized the details. He wonders if Bogdan will count himself in too, but as I’ve heard Bogdan is back smoking pot I told him his mind mightn’t currently be equipped to deal with a barrage of personal and psychological questions and myriad evaluations,

so we should count him out.

We stayed in Bosco’s and watched Eastenders. Aloysius noted that Max Branning looked like a down-and-out Mick Hucknill, while

Tanya’s face was like a crusty moon.

Before we left Bosco played us this song:


and he returned to fixing a pair of shoes in his capacity as a cobbler.

Thursday, 23 July 2009

Waiting Room Soundtrack Killing Time In The Terrordome

Went to see my sister this afternoon up in Sydenham to sell her some pot. There’s a drought up her way, she told me on the phone last night, so I told her I’d sort her out no problem. The boyfriend was there when I arrived and was just headin off. Fuckin hell he’s a cunt. Real sneery gub on him. 6 months into them going out I made an unannounced visit on her. It was Halloween and she was in the kitchen fixing up the kids costumes for them. She’d a big black eye and I asked her what’d happened. She told me it was makeup from the funny faces she’d done on the kids. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that her eye was all swole up. So I pressed her eyebrow and she flinched. Then she started getting creative. She told me she were hammering a lambeg drum he’d brought in and had hit herself up the face with one of the malaccas. But he’s from the Falls, I reminded her.

To be fair I haven’t see her in that state since. And she is a mouthy wee bitch, my sister. Not that that’s an excuse. But he is a hateful lookin cunt, though. A big ginger fucker. He’s like a big walking Wotsit. He’s got that big nasty ginger gormless thing happening. He’s a bit like Max Branning in that respect. If I find he’s hurt my sister again I’m gonna stab him, but I think all he’d bleed is Fanta. Ginger, marmalade bollocked cuntrag!

In other news, FUCK OBAMA! I see, here, that the great galloping messiah has given all the big pharmaceutical companies legal immunity from prosecution if their formaldehyde/birdshit/mercury laced vaccines cause side effects including schizo’ like turns and various cancers. Some of the side effects for the young will make autism look like a mid-afternoon supermarket tantrum. This article reckons that some Friday, soon, Friday being his bad news ‘dump’ he’ll declare that vaccination against swine flu should be mandatory. So yeah --- CHANGE, Obama, you cunt – change sides, change the mob, change the rhythm and delivery, change the eye line and change the soundtrack, but you’re still spouting that oligarchal mantra of soft fluffed happy subjugation from the Senate to Sudan, bitch! To quote a line:

people who believe in politics are like people who believe in god: they are sucking wind through bent straws.


Also, Shirkers from P.E beware! Now in the UK, London in particular, people putting up anti-2012 Olympic posters in their homes may be subject to raids (ON THEIR PRIVATE PROPERTY) by the filth! Jesus Christ; I’m so mad I could shit a wasp!
Time for something calming I think: