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