*bring* *bring*
“Help me, Twenty”, shrieked Dirty Dave down the phone at 2.30 at night.
“Why?”, I asked. It’s a good question when you think about it.
“I’ve been feeling a bit unwell the last few days but now I know what it is!”
“What is it?”
“I’ve got … foot and mouth disease.”
“Right.”
“No, really. I looked it up on Wikipedia. It says symptoms include a fever. Check. Blisters inside the mouth that lead to excessive secretion of stringy or foamy saliva and to drooling. Check. Blisters on the feet. Check. Swollen testes. Oh sweet Jesus check. I’m done for. I’ll be slaughtered in a great animal pyre. I know it’d be for the greater good but, frankly, fuck the greater good. What am I going to do?”
“Jesus, you need to calm down. You’re like one of those goats that panics and then falls over because it’s just fainted in the middle of running away from the thing that made them panic. Stupid goats. It’s not foot and mouth disease.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, firstly, despite your appearance you are not bovine or cloven hoofed. Are you a cow, Dave?”
“I am not.”
“Right then. You don’t have a fever, you’re just sitting too close to the toaster again. Also, you drool all the time anyway and your saliva is as foamy as the foam at an Ibiza foam party every day of the week. It’s all the asparagus you eat. The blisters inside your mouth probably came from something like you heating up that space dust stuff you used to get when you were a kid. You know the stuff that popped and fizzed on your tongue? You probably heated it in the microwave and took a big handful. Am I wrong?”
“You are not.”
“Blisters on the feet came from you joining in that game of football in the park the other night. Those 10 year olds were having a great time until you insisted on playing and they were too afraid of your smell to say no. The swollen testes, how long has it been, Dave?”
“How long has what been?”
“You know.”
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
Dave looked down sadly.
“Not since half three yesterday afternoon.”
“There you go then.”
“Cheers, Twenty.”
*click*
“Dave looked down sadly”
How do you know? You were on the phone.
Don’t ruin a good story Fred!
Is half three yesterday a long time , Jesus who knew marriage would be the death of all that stuff
Fred, I saw two friends of your’s on the BBC news in London last night, they were fighting a rat over some pasta and a loaf.
McDara, he was doing well marriage-wise.
Blogging code #19 Thou shalt not spellcheck, typo or otherwise correct other bloggers stories..
Freegans. When will they ever learn?
I’ve done so much damge to my system this w/end that I’m glad to be back at work
fuckin’ hell
The thought of dangerously over-full gonads reminds me of a funny story about a woman ahead of me in the queue at Tesco’s once who was also a bit, em, overstocked down below. Let me explain. As she was paying for her shopping she started to shake her leg in a somewhat demented fashion. Why is she doing that, I wondered. There’s something down there, she explained to the checkout girl. And lo, out of the end of her tracky bottoms popped a pair of dirty knickers that had been lodging in there all day, skidmarks and all.
And thus began a beautiful friendship. How we look forward to telling our grandchildren that wonderful story.
thong?
Just poking a bit of fun at you, Major. Alfie, I admire your originality.
You know what the photographs of mouldy old reclaimed pizza slices on that freegan website look like? They look like those photos of foetuses Pro-Life nutjobs shove in kids’ cases on O’Connell Street. That’s what they fucking look like. Eeewww. Give the things a decent burial, someone.
Do freegans believe in free(gan) sex by the way? There’s this woman I know who lives in a recycling bin, but she charges at least a fiver a time.
Speaking of foot and mouth, by the way, James Joyce wrote a newspaper article about it around a century ago. Mr Deasy gives Stephen a letter for posting to a newspaper about foot and mouth in the Nestor chapter of Ulysses, just before Stephen goes foraging for pizza in the bins on Sandymount Strand.
Foot and mouth is such a shit name for a disease.
What cunt came up with that? I bet it was that geebag Philip Schofield.
James Joyce is a gay cunt. I hope he dies.
How about dripping mangy pustular discharge disease instead?
Or brain cannot cope with James Joyce-itis? Must be painful, that one.
Cows don’t have testes.
How about our freegan brethren persuading Angelina Jolie or Fiona Apple (she’s a vegan) to get in on my freegan sex initiative? The campaign starts here.
If they were made to sample batches of potentially dodgy party drugs they could have ‘Test Es’ though.
What the foot and mouth outbreak should be concentrating our minds on is that unless steps are taken very soon, both Alex Ferguson and Jose Mourinho will both have to be slaughtered. Nothing to do with the foot and outbreak really. It’s just that they’re both annoying twats.
I said ‘kids’ cases’ in comment no. 12. I meant kids’ faces. I should probably go and lie down now. I hate typos in blog comments. I hate freegan pizza. I hate my fucking life.
I’m bitter,
I’m twisted,
Jasmes Joyce is fucking my sister
(therapy?)- the band; I’ve had mine
The sister-stealing bastard.
G,
Thought you were having a lie down. You should check out our website, open your mind brother.
Seek and you shall find!
I can’t be arsed making my dinner tonight. Someone bring me round a free one, please. Chinese, bean curd and black bean sauce. And if it’s one of those dumpster ones, at least take the syringes out first.
They should call it The Cow killing disease.
Moomonia.
On a completely different note, sorry 20major
Last nights programme on Patrick Gallagher. He stole 30m from pensioners and was not prosecuted for it down here (he got 2 years up north)
Gayle Killalea (married to the builder Sean Dunne) said that Patrick was a greddy man, but a very nice, genuine man. Isn’t that nice to hear? Do you think Gayle will tell that nice line to the pensioners that he stole money from? It shows you what planet Gayle lives on.
Cowncer. Mookemia.
Tedious drunken shite disease. No wait, that’s what I’ve got.
Missed that, Itchy. Nothing ‘nice’ about ripping off people’s pensions. Morons.
Sheepstyeria.
Moomps.
losing your moobles – no, that’s mad cow disease
Haemooroids.
How come Dirty Dave and Stinkin Pete never post comments on this site, by the way?
They’re not allowed.
How come Dirty Dave and Stinkin Pete never post comments on this site, by the way?
Because they can’t get a look in with you.13 times, fuck sake, is that your mother twenty.
had a look at that freegan website.
total nutters
my mate used to go out with a freegan. very strange wee girl.
she used to get up at all hours to go an raid the bins behind tesco.
well, thats what she said she was doin…
She was probably charging georgiasam a fiver…
Does anyone know the difference between BSE and PMT???
One is called Mad Cow Disease. Other suffered by mad Cow’s [Well at least the ones that feel the need to reek havock on the world during that one or two days a month].
Both I believe are bleedin’ awful.
Myxomootosis…
What? Am I too late?