I decided to abandon this diary thing a while back because my life was boring enough without having to write about the fucking thing as well. I'll probably add to it now and then to keep you sons of bitches updated on whatever dumb shit I've been up to.
A lot has happened since the last time I updated this. I got sacked from my old job, the one you'll remember me mentioning a bunch of times because I was so fond of it. I was basically transferred to another campaign, same shitty job, just selling different useless shit to old ladies and foreign people.
The first week is training on the new product. The training was led by some floppy-fringed, buck-toothed wanker with a faggy little half beard and trousers so tight I could see the wrinkles in his balls. I didn't bother to learn his name. He'd give vague instructions about tasks he wanted us to do while he looked at some gay fantasy football thing on his laptop then get annoyed when I asked for clarification on what he was looking for. I'll give an example so you get the idea.
He split us into teams and gave each team a piece of paper. Told us to draw whatever we liked but we had to switch the person doing the drawing everytime he said switch. So we all did the task, I think I drew some dicks, Elvis with a massive wang and a couple of stick men bumming or something retarded. At the end he asked us to describe the finished piece in three words. I said "no artistic ability". He said "that's wrong, just give me three words to describe it". I counted and I'm no Stephen Hawkin but I was pretty fucking sure I'd used three words. I asked if he wanted it described in three words or if he was looking for three random words that could each describe it. He had a little tantrum and started having trouble getting words past his giant fucked up teeth, I realised after a few minutes he was accusing me of making it difficult but I wasn't really listening, I was too busy wishing he died of AIDS.
Second day of training they sent me home for wearing the wrong shoes, it was pissing down with rain and they told me I had to change them and come back. By the time I got home and back I'd only be there for the last 20 minutes so I said I might as well just come back the next day. Makes sense right? No. They demanded I come back anyway. I didn't because I'm an arsehole like that.
The next day I was talking to two of the other guys in training about how we'd all started on the same day and we were talking about how we'd come full circle and ended up in training together. Turned out we were the last 3 left from that group of 14 since the rest had either been fired or left for other jobs. It was that conversation which got me shit canned. Apparently, talking about staff turnover scares the new starters. In my meeting they said they didn't want the trainees thinking that they sacked people for no reason so they sacked me. They didn't see the irony even after I explained it would be like me punching them in the face to prove I wasn't violent.
So now I'm back on the dole. I'm about as broke as I was before so not much has changed really. I put some weight on sitting on my arse all day so now I'm having to eat healthy crap, that sucks massive balls but it also means I get to walk down the riverside and see all the weirdos again so every cloud and all that. Yesterday I saw a man walking his dog, he threw a ball and the dog darted after it. When it reached it the dog just squatted and shat on it then trotted back to the owner. I wanted to see if the guy picked the ball up so I hung around and watched. He walked up to it but then he caught me looking and left it there. On the way back I noticed it was gone. The cheapeskate bastard probably rinsed it off and now throws his dog a shitty ball.
Not much else has happened. Let me think. There was the guy with the shitty ball, I saw a fat man who looked like Peter Griffin, found a green spider on my shoe... that's pretty much the last few months summed up.
Oh yeah, today I farted outside and a man accross the street heard it. He looked at me and I looked back, I made no apologies. We both exchanged a small nod in acknowledgement of how manly it was and went about our business.
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That's it for now diary you useless fuck monkey. See you next time
on Wednesday, 23 February 2011
9th Feb
The bus to work was late and smelled like a fat girls bellybutton. Then I was 4 seconds late from a break and was docked 15 minutes pay for my troubles. Today sucked balls
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13th Feb
On the bus home from work a bloke was breathing from his mouth with his tongue sticking out a little bit. His eyes were too close together and his loud breathing annoyed the fuck out of me for the 20 minute journey home. I also have £70 to last me until the end of the month. This shit job can suck my arse.
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14th Feb
I've been sat underneath the loudest fucking speaker on the planet. I'm sick of hearing the bastard scissor sisters at 2 million decibels and work are still randomly playing christmas songs. I asked my manager to turn the music down or move me so I could, you know, actually hear the customers and do my job. He offered to move me two seats further down the bank of desks, still pretty much directly under the speaker. I got sick of trying to explain how sound actually fucking works and decided to enjoy the rest of my day with a banging headache.
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16th Feb
It was inevitable since we were so massively over-staffed. We are officially downsizing. Half the fucktards I work with probably got excited and thought that meant we were hiring more midgets. If I get sacked I'm going to shit in my had and throw it at people on my way out
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17th Feb
Today I decided to put some shelves up because I'm such a manly bastard. It took me a while but I found the right pair of jeans for the job, you can't lord it about the place with power tools unless your arse crack is showing a little bit. By the time I'd finished I was so pumped with testosterone I had 3 new grey hairs, a full beard and my wang was 4% bigger.
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19th Feb
Today some uppity bint came over to me when I was with my manager and asked her why I was wearing sandshoes when everyone else was wearing shoes. I hate when people talk about me when I'm standing right there so I explained that sand SHOES were in fact, shoes. She said they were trainers. Really? So I was wearing sand trainers then? Who gives a shit? I work on the telephone and I've never once been asked by a customer what footwear I was wearing.
The same old tart once saw me wearing my lip ring and practically cried so hard she had a period until I took it out.
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That's it for this week. The posts are already becoming less frequent because I'm sick of writing about my dull as shit days. I'll stick it out until the end of the year as promised and them I'm binning it off.
See you next week diary you itchy fanny wart
.Mike B
The bus to work was late and smelled like a fat girls bellybutton. Then I was 4 seconds late from a break and was docked 15 minutes pay for my troubles. Today sucked balls
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13th Feb
On the bus home from work a bloke was breathing from his mouth with his tongue sticking out a little bit. His eyes were too close together and his loud breathing annoyed the fuck out of me for the 20 minute journey home. I also have £70 to last me until the end of the month. This shit job can suck my arse.
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14th Feb
I've been sat underneath the loudest fucking speaker on the planet. I'm sick of hearing the bastard scissor sisters at 2 million decibels and work are still randomly playing christmas songs. I asked my manager to turn the music down or move me so I could, you know, actually hear the customers and do my job. He offered to move me two seats further down the bank of desks, still pretty much directly under the speaker. I got sick of trying to explain how sound actually fucking works and decided to enjoy the rest of my day with a banging headache.
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16th Feb
It was inevitable since we were so massively over-staffed. We are officially downsizing. Half the fucktards I work with probably got excited and thought that meant we were hiring more midgets. If I get sacked I'm going to shit in my had and throw it at people on my way out
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17th Feb
Today I decided to put some shelves up because I'm such a manly bastard. It took me a while but I found the right pair of jeans for the job, you can't lord it about the place with power tools unless your arse crack is showing a little bit. By the time I'd finished I was so pumped with testosterone I had 3 new grey hairs, a full beard and my wang was 4% bigger.
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19th Feb
Today some uppity bint came over to me when I was with my manager and asked her why I was wearing sandshoes when everyone else was wearing shoes. I hate when people talk about me when I'm standing right there so I explained that sand SHOES were in fact, shoes. She said they were trainers. Really? So I was wearing sand trainers then? Who gives a shit? I work on the telephone and I've never once been asked by a customer what footwear I was wearing.
The same old tart once saw me wearing my lip ring and practically cried so hard she had a period until I took it out.
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That's it for this week. The posts are already becoming less frequent because I'm sick of writing about my dull as shit days. I'll stick it out until the end of the year as promised and them I'm binning it off.
See you next week diary you itchy fanny wart
.Mike B
on Sunday, 13 February 2011
29th Jan
I don't go to shitty council estate pubs because they're always full of inbred looking arseholes and it always kicks off. Somehow I was convinced that this one was different and agreed to go along. It wasn't. It was like walking into one flew over the cuckoos nest, I'm pretty sure I saw a giant indian throwing a sink through a window. There was an exra from the hills have eyes singing Rod Stewart songs on the kareoke.
I'm not sure if there was an official rule on the amount of teeth and working eyes allowed in the place but there was a definite shortage of both. Sure enough, it all kicked off and will be the last time I drink in one of those dumps.
I lived on that shithole estate for 27 years. Anyone with any sense gets out of there as soon as possible. The only thing keeping any of the decent people back are family ties. You know what I thought when I left? Adios fuckers, I'll see you at christmas and I'll text you on your birthdays.
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02 Feb
Had the day off work with a case of the Ballroom Blitz. Just saw Jamie Oliver on daytime TV dribbling and lisping like a fucking moron. Who would eat food made by that retarded fuck monkey? 20% of the sauces on his meals is his own saliva, the dribbling fucking mongoloid.
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04 Feb
Bought myself a normal sized packet of crisps for £1.60. They were "hand cooked". I had visions of a chef individually frying each crisp with a pair of tweasers, before lovingly sprinkling each one with the finest flavoured salt money could buy. Turns out they were just like normal crisps but tasted like a mixture of lies and betrayal. When I finished eating them I sat on the toilet for a little bit and cried.
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05 Feb
Took my mother out for a meal to celebrate her birthday. It cost a small fortune so I ate as much as I could manage. I was supposed to be going straight to pub for drinks afterwards but I ate so much I had to go home to take my trousers off and have a lie down.
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07 Feb
Today at work my lesban friend Lee told me he bought himself 3 pairs of underpants for £30. That's £10 each. That son of a bitch is on too much money. Ten bastard pounds to stop himself getting skids in his jeans. At lunch he went to the toilet and took his sandwich with him. That's a room where 200 people go to shit and he thinks it's ok to sit and eat in there. He might as well have just passed that sandwich around the office and let everyone fart in it.
Sorry for the late post but I'm already sick of writing about my boring ass weeks.
See you next time diary you filthy gypsy.
Love
Mike B
I don't go to shitty council estate pubs because they're always full of inbred looking arseholes and it always kicks off. Somehow I was convinced that this one was different and agreed to go along. It wasn't. It was like walking into one flew over the cuckoos nest, I'm pretty sure I saw a giant indian throwing a sink through a window. There was an exra from the hills have eyes singing Rod Stewart songs on the kareoke.
I'm not sure if there was an official rule on the amount of teeth and working eyes allowed in the place but there was a definite shortage of both. Sure enough, it all kicked off and will be the last time I drink in one of those dumps.
I lived on that shithole estate for 27 years. Anyone with any sense gets out of there as soon as possible. The only thing keeping any of the decent people back are family ties. You know what I thought when I left? Adios fuckers, I'll see you at christmas and I'll text you on your birthdays.
------
02 Feb
Had the day off work with a case of the Ballroom Blitz. Just saw Jamie Oliver on daytime TV dribbling and lisping like a fucking moron. Who would eat food made by that retarded fuck monkey? 20% of the sauces on his meals is his own saliva, the dribbling fucking mongoloid.
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04 Feb
Bought myself a normal sized packet of crisps for £1.60. They were "hand cooked". I had visions of a chef individually frying each crisp with a pair of tweasers, before lovingly sprinkling each one with the finest flavoured salt money could buy. Turns out they were just like normal crisps but tasted like a mixture of lies and betrayal. When I finished eating them I sat on the toilet for a little bit and cried.
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05 Feb
Took my mother out for a meal to celebrate her birthday. It cost a small fortune so I ate as much as I could manage. I was supposed to be going straight to pub for drinks afterwards but I ate so much I had to go home to take my trousers off and have a lie down.
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07 Feb
Today at work my lesban friend Lee told me he bought himself 3 pairs of underpants for £30. That's £10 each. That son of a bitch is on too much money. Ten bastard pounds to stop himself getting skids in his jeans. At lunch he went to the toilet and took his sandwich with him. That's a room where 200 people go to shit and he thinks it's ok to sit and eat in there. He might as well have just passed that sandwich around the office and let everyone fart in it.
Sorry for the late post but I'm already sick of writing about my boring ass weeks.
See you next time diary you filthy gypsy.
Love
Mike B
on Saturday, 29 January 2011
22nd Jan
Pretty uneventful day, the only highlight was seeing a woman on the bus who looked like Gene Wilder.
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23rd Jan
I've officially run out of money. My old lady was kind enough to send a care package round with some money and stuff for sandwiches. It's ridiculous. If I was any pooror that fat wanker Lenny Henry would be on tv doing a fundraiser for me. People in africa are sending me jumpers. Why the fuck am I working 40 hours a week to be skint? I can be this broke on the dole without working any cunting hours
I even had to do work poo today because I ran out of toilet paper. I was faced with the agonising choice between a seat or a lock, you can't have both at my office. I can't relax without a lock but can't poo if I have to hover. They really spoil us at that place. In the end I just went up to the third floor where they have towels and everything. It's supposed to be haunted up there but I'm not a complete fuckwit, so the thought of imaginary beasties in the dark didn't put my off having one of the most enjoyable poos of my career so far. I got back to my desk about a stone lighter only to discover they're still playing bastard christmas songs at work.
For tea I ate half a jar of pickled onions and thought I was actually going to die.
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24th Jan
This morning at work there were only 2 people supposed to be in between 8 and 9. There are usually about 14 but for some reason they only had 2 of us in for the first hour. At 10 past 8 Kerry called me to let me know I'd have to man the fort until she got there because she'd slept in. I was still in bed dreaming about punching Will Smiths nuts in. This is what happens when the only two people they get to come in are also the flakiest at the best of times. There was no work done for the first hour of the day as all our desks sat empty. They weren't amused with me but fuck it, you can't do 3 weeks of late shifts and then just magically adjust your body clock to start getting up earlier
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26th Jan
We had the directors in the office today. They were meeting with some Orange reps so they wanted us to look more proffessional. They went all out, the walls were repainted, shirts were tucked in, they even stocked up on toilet roll. I'm pretty sure one guy I saw had combed his moustache.
They wanted great performances out of us so they ran a bunch of competitions between all of the teams, with amazing "cash prizes" to be given out at the end of the day. There was best dressed, cleanest work areas and a bunch of other crap. My team won one of them and the cash prize turned out to be £5. I know what you're thinking, £5 each is a little bit shit, not really worth putting in any extra effort at all. Turned out it wasn't £5 each. It was £5 to share between 14 of us. I still haven't decided what to do with my share.
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27th Jan
Saw a midget woman pushing her boyfriend in a wheelchair. Then I wasted over an hour trying to sort my new mobile phone delivery out.
That's it for this post, another boring ass week out of the way. I'll start on next weeks later on if I can be bothered. I'm still hung over from last night and pissed off with UPS and Virgin. See you next time diary you ginger wanker.
Love
Mike B
Pretty uneventful day, the only highlight was seeing a woman on the bus who looked like Gene Wilder.
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23rd Jan
I've officially run out of money. My old lady was kind enough to send a care package round with some money and stuff for sandwiches. It's ridiculous. If I was any pooror that fat wanker Lenny Henry would be on tv doing a fundraiser for me. People in africa are sending me jumpers. Why the fuck am I working 40 hours a week to be skint? I can be this broke on the dole without working any cunting hours
I even had to do work poo today because I ran out of toilet paper. I was faced with the agonising choice between a seat or a lock, you can't have both at my office. I can't relax without a lock but can't poo if I have to hover. They really spoil us at that place. In the end I just went up to the third floor where they have towels and everything. It's supposed to be haunted up there but I'm not a complete fuckwit, so the thought of imaginary beasties in the dark didn't put my off having one of the most enjoyable poos of my career so far. I got back to my desk about a stone lighter only to discover they're still playing bastard christmas songs at work.
For tea I ate half a jar of pickled onions and thought I was actually going to die.
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24th Jan
This morning at work there were only 2 people supposed to be in between 8 and 9. There are usually about 14 but for some reason they only had 2 of us in for the first hour. At 10 past 8 Kerry called me to let me know I'd have to man the fort until she got there because she'd slept in. I was still in bed dreaming about punching Will Smiths nuts in. This is what happens when the only two people they get to come in are also the flakiest at the best of times. There was no work done for the first hour of the day as all our desks sat empty. They weren't amused with me but fuck it, you can't do 3 weeks of late shifts and then just magically adjust your body clock to start getting up earlier
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26th Jan
We had the directors in the office today. They were meeting with some Orange reps so they wanted us to look more proffessional. They went all out, the walls were repainted, shirts were tucked in, they even stocked up on toilet roll. I'm pretty sure one guy I saw had combed his moustache.
They wanted great performances out of us so they ran a bunch of competitions between all of the teams, with amazing "cash prizes" to be given out at the end of the day. There was best dressed, cleanest work areas and a bunch of other crap. My team won one of them and the cash prize turned out to be £5. I know what you're thinking, £5 each is a little bit shit, not really worth putting in any extra effort at all. Turned out it wasn't £5 each. It was £5 to share between 14 of us. I still haven't decided what to do with my share.
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27th Jan
Saw a midget woman pushing her boyfriend in a wheelchair. Then I wasted over an hour trying to sort my new mobile phone delivery out.
That's it for this post, another boring ass week out of the way. I'll start on next weeks later on if I can be bothered. I'm still hung over from last night and pissed off with UPS and Virgin. See you next time diary you ginger wanker.
Love
Mike B
on Thursday, 20 January 2011
13th Jan
First connect four, then chess and now crosswords are banned from the office. Between taking calls there is literally nothing to do and since most days we're massively over-staffed, we pretty much sit around waiting for the next call to come in. Occasionally we'll have a quiet game of connect four or something to pass the countless hours we spend bored. Our manager must have looked up and saw someone smiling because board games were immediately banned. I can understand banning board games, but crosswords? Come on, it's writing and thinking. I know they don't like us actually thinking at that place but it's just getting fucking ridiculous. Crosswords are banned but playing tennis with a ball made out of taped up paper is apparently fine.
On the plus side the girls were playing bone, marry, kill today between calls. Turns out they all want to bone me and no one wants to kill me. It's only natural though, they've got eyes.
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15th Jan
Went laptop shopping with the worst hangover in history. My grampa bought himself one so he could go on the internet. I told him to type whatever he's looking for into google. My gran thinks he's going to type "wife number 5". She wasn't happy, wait until she sees the the weird japanese tentacle porn I put in his favourites...
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16th Jan
Day before yesterday I got to work early and agreed to help out 10 mins before my shift officially started. After lunch I got back to my desk early and started checking some manual work before I was due back on. I accidentally went 14 seconds over before logging back in. Fair enough, I thought, I'd already worked on my own dime so they'd let it slide. They didn't. I was docked 15 minutes pay and now have to go to a meeting about those 14 seconds that will be put on my record (the record they'll look at when they decide whether I pass my probation or not). No mention of the early starts and working in my own time, or the time I helped out when they were short staffed, working a 12 hour shift with a chest infection. Good to know just how much you're valued sometimes. In future I'm not even acknowledging anyone in my free time, they can wait until I'm logged on and being paid before I'll even say good cunting morning.
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18th Jan
Bought a Ginsters pasty on my way home from work for tea. It was £2.50. Two pound bastard fifty!!! I could have cried when I ate it and it was shite
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20th Jan
Spent the day with a motivational speaker. Apparently, work decided I wasn't motivated enough. I'm sure they had visions of me coming back a changed man, all positive and happy. It didn't work out that way. I knew things were off to a bad start when I managed to offend some scouse bint with an inappropriate comment. If someone is doing a word association exercise and asks you to say the first thing that comes to mind when they say "children" what do they expect? My answer of "sexy" didn't go down too well but it amused me and that's all I give a shit about. The highlight of the day was Kirsty getting her arse cheek stuck in the elevator door on the way out. How the hell do you get one cheek stuck in the door? We almost had to get the fire brigade out and everything. I also kissed a man, he loved it the lucky son of a bitch.
That's it for this week diary, I'm already bored of writing in you so I might have to sack you off and go look at titties on the internet.
Love
Mike B
First connect four, then chess and now crosswords are banned from the office. Between taking calls there is literally nothing to do and since most days we're massively over-staffed, we pretty much sit around waiting for the next call to come in. Occasionally we'll have a quiet game of connect four or something to pass the countless hours we spend bored. Our manager must have looked up and saw someone smiling because board games were immediately banned. I can understand banning board games, but crosswords? Come on, it's writing and thinking. I know they don't like us actually thinking at that place but it's just getting fucking ridiculous. Crosswords are banned but playing tennis with a ball made out of taped up paper is apparently fine.
On the plus side the girls were playing bone, marry, kill today between calls. Turns out they all want to bone me and no one wants to kill me. It's only natural though, they've got eyes.
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15th Jan
Went laptop shopping with the worst hangover in history. My grampa bought himself one so he could go on the internet. I told him to type whatever he's looking for into google. My gran thinks he's going to type "wife number 5". She wasn't happy, wait until she sees the the weird japanese tentacle porn I put in his favourites...
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16th Jan
Day before yesterday I got to work early and agreed to help out 10 mins before my shift officially started. After lunch I got back to my desk early and started checking some manual work before I was due back on. I accidentally went 14 seconds over before logging back in. Fair enough, I thought, I'd already worked on my own dime so they'd let it slide. They didn't. I was docked 15 minutes pay and now have to go to a meeting about those 14 seconds that will be put on my record (the record they'll look at when they decide whether I pass my probation or not). No mention of the early starts and working in my own time, or the time I helped out when they were short staffed, working a 12 hour shift with a chest infection. Good to know just how much you're valued sometimes. In future I'm not even acknowledging anyone in my free time, they can wait until I'm logged on and being paid before I'll even say good cunting morning.
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18th Jan
Bought a Ginsters pasty on my way home from work for tea. It was £2.50. Two pound bastard fifty!!! I could have cried when I ate it and it was shite
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20th Jan
Spent the day with a motivational speaker. Apparently, work decided I wasn't motivated enough. I'm sure they had visions of me coming back a changed man, all positive and happy. It didn't work out that way. I knew things were off to a bad start when I managed to offend some scouse bint with an inappropriate comment. If someone is doing a word association exercise and asks you to say the first thing that comes to mind when they say "children" what do they expect? My answer of "sexy" didn't go down too well but it amused me and that's all I give a shit about. The highlight of the day was Kirsty getting her arse cheek stuck in the elevator door on the way out. How the hell do you get one cheek stuck in the door? We almost had to get the fire brigade out and everything. I also kissed a man, he loved it the lucky son of a bitch.
That's it for this week diary, I'm already bored of writing in you so I might have to sack you off and go look at titties on the internet.
Love
Mike B
on Wednesday, 12 January 2011
07 Jan
Couple of days off work was just what the doctor ordered, I must have been tired since I had over 10 hours sleep the last two nights. Nothing much to report from my time off, although I did manage to burn my cunting finger on my George Foreman grill trying to squeeze it shut on a panini.
It's exactly one week until my birthday. I know I'm getting old because over christmas I managed to pull a muscle in my neck having a shit.
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8th Jan
am:
Just woke up after having a night of weird dreams. First I dreamt that work had me testing a tarantulas feeding habits by poking it with a straw in the face, it jumped up my arm and I woke up shitting my pants. Then I dreamt that I went for a pee and noticed a condom floating in the toilet, I decided that my deaf neighbors must be secretly having sex in my house. I was livid. I don't read too much into dreams though because I'm not a massive homosexual
pm:
Work are still playing christmas songs, what the fuck is that all about? The next time I hear Last Christmas by Wham! some cunt is going out of a window.
Just got off the bus home from work. There were a couple of loud, annoying chavs on the back speaking really loudly and swearing. It was annoying the shit out of the three old people sat in front of me so it didn't piss me off as much as usual. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that jaz. I pretty much ignored them but kept hearing snippets that the chav bird was saying to the bloke. First I caught "she said she thought I was about 32. Cheeky fucking cow, I'm 36 but I know I don't even look 30", then the next conversation ended with her saying "I'm just sick of being treated like a sex object by men". I couldn't resist, I had to look around at this gorgeous, younger than 30 looking bundle of sex....
I wish I'd taken a picture, she looked about 50 and was fucking hideous. She was like boner Kryptonite. I always thought the story of the virgin Mary conceiving Jesus without having sex was bollocks, but if that bird ever gets pregnant, immaculate conception would be the only rational explanation. She was so fucking ugly that she probably couldn't even masturbate for fear of catching a glimps of her own reflection and being sick. If the elephant man was out on the pull and was about 15 pints in, he would still take one look at her and think he could do better
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12th Jan
Saw a man walking his dog today. The dog was wearing a coat. What fucking moron dresses their dog? It's not like the dog was going bald so it needed it. Even if it was wouldn't some sort of dog wig be more like it? Dogs are born with a coat already on them. Putting a jacket on a dog is like giving a pidgeon a fucking parachute.
That's pretty much it for this week diary, you stupid gaylord.
Love
Mike B
Couple of days off work was just what the doctor ordered, I must have been tired since I had over 10 hours sleep the last two nights. Nothing much to report from my time off, although I did manage to burn my cunting finger on my George Foreman grill trying to squeeze it shut on a panini.
It's exactly one week until my birthday. I know I'm getting old because over christmas I managed to pull a muscle in my neck having a shit.
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8th Jan
am:
Just woke up after having a night of weird dreams. First I dreamt that work had me testing a tarantulas feeding habits by poking it with a straw in the face, it jumped up my arm and I woke up shitting my pants. Then I dreamt that I went for a pee and noticed a condom floating in the toilet, I decided that my deaf neighbors must be secretly having sex in my house. I was livid. I don't read too much into dreams though because I'm not a massive homosexual
pm:
Work are still playing christmas songs, what the fuck is that all about? The next time I hear Last Christmas by Wham! some cunt is going out of a window.
Just got off the bus home from work. There were a couple of loud, annoying chavs on the back speaking really loudly and swearing. It was annoying the shit out of the three old people sat in front of me so it didn't piss me off as much as usual. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that jaz. I pretty much ignored them but kept hearing snippets that the chav bird was saying to the bloke. First I caught "she said she thought I was about 32. Cheeky fucking cow, I'm 36 but I know I don't even look 30", then the next conversation ended with her saying "I'm just sick of being treated like a sex object by men". I couldn't resist, I had to look around at this gorgeous, younger than 30 looking bundle of sex....
I wish I'd taken a picture, she looked about 50 and was fucking hideous. She was like boner Kryptonite. I always thought the story of the virgin Mary conceiving Jesus without having sex was bollocks, but if that bird ever gets pregnant, immaculate conception would be the only rational explanation. She was so fucking ugly that she probably couldn't even masturbate for fear of catching a glimps of her own reflection and being sick. If the elephant man was out on the pull and was about 15 pints in, he would still take one look at her and think he could do better
------
12th Jan
Saw a man walking his dog today. The dog was wearing a coat. What fucking moron dresses their dog? It's not like the dog was going bald so it needed it. Even if it was wouldn't some sort of dog wig be more like it? Dogs are born with a coat already on them. Putting a jacket on a dog is like giving a pidgeon a fucking parachute.
That's pretty much it for this week diary, you stupid gaylord.
Love
Mike B
on Wednesday, 5 January 2011
New year, new blog, same old shit.
So this year I decided for my new years resolution I would keep a diary (I also intend to be more of a bastard, bone more chicks and laugh at more spastics). Just for the record this isn't going to be some whiney emo fag journal about how nobody loves me and how much pain I have in my life, no, this diary will be so manly it will need to shave twice a day. So get your wankerchiefs out because I'm about to get started:
3rd Jan
Dear diary,
I started the new year of with a bang. I went to my lesbian friend Lee's house for a party. It was full of gay men and annoying fucking fag hag student girls. Ended up speaking to an irritating bint who kept saying shit like "oh my god, I love your look. You're sooo retro". What do you mean? "I mean you're just sooo 2004". What the hell does that even mean? How is 2004 retro, it was about 5 fucking minutes ago and what the fuck does 2004 look like? You know what, you're just sooo fucking down syndrome so go speak to someone else. I bailed and went to a party filled with lowlife dirtbags. My kind of people.
I've also started the new year with a nice bout of insomnia just to make going into work even more enjoyable. It doesn't help that my shifts are all over the place so I can't get into any sort of routine. It's not like I'm even paid very well, chinese kids in sweatshops laugh at how little I make. I should be doing something well paid and kick ass. With these sexy sideburns I should have an awesome job as a porn director or a fanny tester or something. If I ever see my careers advisor again I'm going to punch her tits in.
------
5th Jan
Today I got sent home from work because I'm ill. You know you look like shit when you're offered four days off to recover, at my job you get less time off if you die. On my way to the bus station I was stopped by a charity mugger with a clipboard. She was about 18 and fancied herself as a bit of a sex kitten. She was twirling her hair with her finger and trying to pout and look cute, it didn't work, it just made her look like she was having trouble squeezing out a shit. She said "hey baby, want to talk to me for a minute?" Erm, not sure how to put this without sounding rude....no thanks, I'd rather wank my old man off. How's that? Does that flirty shit actually work? Are there guys out there so pathetic they actually think pretending to care about orphans needing busses and giving out their bank details would get them so much as a sniff of her pants? My first act when I become prime minister will be to change the law so anyone caught not punching charity muggers in the mouth will face stiff fines (which won't go to charity by the way, they will go towards building strip clubs on every corner).
In the summer I think I'll just get a t-shirt made with "stop me and I'll hurt you" written on it for the days I have to visit the town center.
I've also decided to fold and get some sleeping pills tomorrow if I don't sleep well tonight. If I don't report back next week I must have accidentally pulled a Heath Ledger. Remember that my dying wish is to have my ashes scattered in Will Smiths stupid fucking face.
See you next time diary, you utter cunt.
Love
Mike B
So this year I decided for my new years resolution I would keep a diary (I also intend to be more of a bastard, bone more chicks and laugh at more spastics). Just for the record this isn't going to be some whiney emo fag journal about how nobody loves me and how much pain I have in my life, no, this diary will be so manly it will need to shave twice a day. So get your wankerchiefs out because I'm about to get started:
3rd Jan
Dear diary,
I started the new year of with a bang. I went to my lesbian friend Lee's house for a party. It was full of gay men and annoying fucking fag hag student girls. Ended up speaking to an irritating bint who kept saying shit like "oh my god, I love your look. You're sooo retro". What do you mean? "I mean you're just sooo 2004". What the hell does that even mean? How is 2004 retro, it was about 5 fucking minutes ago and what the fuck does 2004 look like? You know what, you're just sooo fucking down syndrome so go speak to someone else. I bailed and went to a party filled with lowlife dirtbags. My kind of people.
I've also started the new year with a nice bout of insomnia just to make going into work even more enjoyable. It doesn't help that my shifts are all over the place so I can't get into any sort of routine. It's not like I'm even paid very well, chinese kids in sweatshops laugh at how little I make. I should be doing something well paid and kick ass. With these sexy sideburns I should have an awesome job as a porn director or a fanny tester or something. If I ever see my careers advisor again I'm going to punch her tits in.
------
5th Jan
Today I got sent home from work because I'm ill. You know you look like shit when you're offered four days off to recover, at my job you get less time off if you die. On my way to the bus station I was stopped by a charity mugger with a clipboard. She was about 18 and fancied herself as a bit of a sex kitten. She was twirling her hair with her finger and trying to pout and look cute, it didn't work, it just made her look like she was having trouble squeezing out a shit. She said "hey baby, want to talk to me for a minute?" Erm, not sure how to put this without sounding rude....no thanks, I'd rather wank my old man off. How's that? Does that flirty shit actually work? Are there guys out there so pathetic they actually think pretending to care about orphans needing busses and giving out their bank details would get them so much as a sniff of her pants? My first act when I become prime minister will be to change the law so anyone caught not punching charity muggers in the mouth will face stiff fines (which won't go to charity by the way, they will go towards building strip clubs on every corner).
In the summer I think I'll just get a t-shirt made with "stop me and I'll hurt you" written on it for the days I have to visit the town center.
I've also decided to fold and get some sleeping pills tomorrow if I don't sleep well tonight. If I don't report back next week I must have accidentally pulled a Heath Ledger. Remember that my dying wish is to have my ashes scattered in Will Smiths stupid fucking face.
See you next time diary, you utter cunt.
Love
Mike B
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