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Posted in Old blogger by Twenty Major on August 21st, 2006

“You, fuck off.

You, look at me like that again and I’m going to fucking break your legs.

You, stop standing their dribbling like a fucking spastic and bring me my beer. It’s there on the table.

You, see you and your buddy wearing the Pringle jumper are going to get taken out round the back and I’m going to fucking stomp on your head.

You, point at me again and I’ll take that finger and shove it up your hole.

You, you stink of piss, you disgusting cunt.

You, get a fucking life and stop fucking asking me if I’m John because I’m not.

You, if I wanted to hear your stories I’d initiate conversation with you. Don’t come up to me and start talking like I’m some kind of long lost relative.

You, get away from me. Your leathery hands make me sick.

You, I’m not going to waltz with you. Your hips will break again”.

Oh, I do love visiting relatives in the old folks home.