i met up with jimlad in town and he was burning asian lads on street fighter 4 in hmv. cooool dude
later, in topman in debehams i answered a phone and the bloke who works there got a bit pissed off. so we got him to pose in a photo with us to try and calm the mood down.
that mad ed hardy shop is closing down innit? fashion is fucked. you know literally if someone cool says something is cool, everyone bums it? what point does someone genuinely like a garment like this? fuck off you badger.
something amazing happened. whilst i was in the changing room in debehams, a woman rang jimlad discussing a possible job opening through his mate yas (a mutual friend between jimlad and this woman). an impromptu and informal interview was scheduled at orange tree and i went along to see what this woman had to say.
the job in question was a £20,000 a year starter with commissions on top of that, in the field of tele sales. jimlad is really excited, sat there buzzing spending the money in his head already.
the woman turns up with a rank feeling of a blind date to it. within seconds its established that there has been a mistake and when she rang jimlad as a "friend of yas' wanting to talk with jimlad about a possible job opening" she thought jimlad was the employer and she was the interviewee (regardless of the fact that she scheduled the meeting in a fucking pub).
she was an irritating lady, who seemed to be putting on a professional front, but was just a div. sat there asking a visibly annoyed jimlad about if there are any jobs going anywhere and how she can get a job. she saw the funny side of it, wasting both our time and just sat there gabbing to two strangers for about 20 minutes. fuck off, love.
next to the kettle at work there is a little sign that reads "please fill me up after use, dont leave me empty" with a little sad face smiley. surely not? since when has that been the rule. if everyone has to go to the tap to re-fill after, surely the tea and coffee drinkers would prefer just to go at the start and drink a cuppa with fresh water?
what sort of twat puts up a fucking sign like this? does it bother someone that much to fucking make a sign and laminate it?
kyle and zac have nothing to do. i ran into them on the park and they were drinking tinies and rolling a zoot with 4 kinds of errrrrrbz in and pure buzzing out about it.
fucking jesus christ. i thought it was bad enough when you see the police on pushbikes, but this takes things to a new height. as if you would get in this. some pedal kart thing.
two woman friends with exactly the same hair cut. id guarantee you that one of them is proper pissed off.
a dead bird.
found this little fucking gem in royal chicken the other night. shit like this really pisses me off. it was "asian directory" full of ads from asian business's. fair enough if the ads relate to asian culture, like asian catering services or like fabric shops or something, but literally, the booklet was full of normal businesses, but ran by asians.
is this really allowed? because they are not white, its fine. surely if there was a little "white directory" with businesses only ran by white people, that would be racist? i fucking hate shit like this. if you know me, or read regular, you know i am not a racist, blah blah blah but this is absolute bollocks. how exclusive. what is it for? who is the target audience? people who do not want to do any business with people who are not asian? fuck off and die and then realise there is no such thing as a god. with 8 arms or not.
got some drinks for a little bbq on a lighter note. note the big irn bru, jamie sent me a little picture message that got me scouting for one of these fuckers.
apparently, JLS's target market is not just pre-pubescent girls, the polish women LURRRRDAT TOO!
.
.
"pozwólmy just dostać w tył razem , my powinien mieć nigdy zajmować się maklerstwem w górze , twój narrator mi ów mój serce przyzwyczajenie jednostka terytorialna na południu Stanów Zjednoczonych znowu"
.
thats a couple of lines of beat again in polish. (lets just get back together, we should have never broke up. your telling me that my heart wont beat again)
.
i used a translator, and when i turned that ^ back into english, i got this:
.
"pozwólmy just supplies on tył together , we duty mieć under no circumstances charging się jobbery on górze twój teller me ów mój heart custom denomination territorially to południu Trim Associate anew"
my sister got me these semi novelty glasses on a whim, modelled by my dog.
i just put them on him, just chilling, no hype and my sisters and mum start buzzing out going fucking crazy. no wonder my dog is a fucking girls dog.
this is good innit?
iceland round the corner from me is fucking genius. 4 tills, only one of them on, one woman serving, and one lad bagging. fucking bagging. why not stick another till on? the queue was bumper. they guy in front of me was going crazy, had two massive baskets full, i had three items. he turned, looked at what i had, (surely thought about letting me go before him) and then just didnt let me. cheers wanker.
i can never remember who else lives at this house. nat (and whoever else lives at this house) had a bqq the night after i had one at my mum and dads. it was really nice, i had like a sausage, bacon and cheese sarnie which was pure good. look at the nice selection of meat on this? good innit. vegetarians are not humans.
it was good fun, a right good laugh and nice to see alot of people at one last kind of gathering before the summer. but on a whole the night highlighted how socially inept alot of university goers are. maybe its me, maybe im too miserable or whatever, but there were alot of people there who i did not know and from time to time i would over hear some joke or whatever and just want to cry.
i dont understand how some people can have such a shit, childish sense of humour, when you can literally find whatever you want funny. people stood with their best friends and the conversations seemed so forced and uneasy. to make a sweeping generalisation, but i would bet my life that it is a true one, posh kids who were privately schooled from young with other posh kids, and never learnt about real matters when growing up, only how to be academics. now thrust into a situation where you have to be social and drink a can of beer, and they dont know where to start.
i honestly really think it might just be me though, maybe im the odd one out, and im just picky common and unpleasant.
some rank budweiser bottles that are like deodorant cans. billed as "trophy bottles". fuck off, nice try.
THIS IS ENGLAND
MY GENTLEMAN'S EVENING WITH BRADLEY AND MAX
i had a really nice evening this evening with max and brad. after football on sunday in the baking sun, we got changed and met up again to take a nice walk into town and go nando's. max is very bothered about his hair, and will check it, using his phone as a mirror. /NOHATE
we saw this sign, a load of shite innit? if you did a little sign like this, why would you not just write out another? drunk when it was written? writing when drunk is so shit.
the button jammed on my phone, but their was some pure white guy dress as a monk. (i hope so bad im not getting that wrong).
in nandos my cutlery acquired a magnetic charge, no hype. i had double breast pitta with cheese (med), spicy rice and chips, brad went for a chicken wrap (ex hot) and chips, and max had 1/2 chicken (med) with chips and spicy rice.
we went onto cafe rough for a little desert.
bradley wanted some ice cream. max got some little chocolate sunday thing and was visibly happy. bradders on the other hand was not. he got sorbet instead of ice cream. it looked so fucking good, honestly.
we was not letting it go, it was beginning to spoil our evening. bradleys moaning that is, not the delicious looking sorbet.
he moanded to a waiter about a technicality on the menu which said you can choose which scoops you have, and he did not choose sorbet. the waiter kindly obliged and brought out some vanilla ice cream for bradley.
happy again.
on from there back home we stopped off for a little chill on the grass at a very busy bede park. those fucking wastemen fire blowers were out, begging attention again. fuck off, sort your selfs out. they were standing up, making really loud jokes and running around, one guy put this box on his head, and kept it there for ages.
i went over to get a photo, and when i said to him "can i take a photo, you mad you are!" one of his little mates piped up, and said "you might actually want a photo of someone who can do it, aka him" and pointed to the guy with the box on his head. he thrust forward the batton for fire twirling to the guy. i just told him i wasnt bothered about that, i want a photo of this fucking nutjob with a fucking box on his head. MAD.
also, i saw this fucking lump, failed to get a photo of it proper, but she was wearing a t-shirt with the words "queen of everyone" on the back. pure shit zoom photo below, but you can kind of make it out. what an amazing t-shirt.
thats the lot for now, ill come up with something to post pretty pretty pretty pretty soon, thankyou for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment