Thursday, October 6, 2011

An arse pinyadda

I sit in my office and listen to the sicko who's toilet is next door. Every day about this time he lets loose, and I could make a hit record of his grunts and groans. He will die in there one day, I am sure. I usually wait till after he is done to eat my lunch, but today I forgot and had an early. And along he comes as I tuck into my meatballs and lets rip with the arse pinyadda.

Such is life.


What the fuck is this?

An old friend just emailed me via this site, it looks like my words, it uses my email, but buggered if I can remember ever enrolling.

Hhmmmm, , ,

OK so I must have been drunk. It also means this site is way less intrusive than arsebook "send me more advertising". So I might leave some comments up here from time to time, an outlet for my creative side perhaps.