… and I’m not going to start now even though I have nothing to say. Wordy block is back, big time, but it’s not MY fault, it’s little Emily’s fault and Kumblant’s fault and whatever they are plotting’s fault and the gasmen’s fault and Lottie’s fault and Photoshop’s fault and my Cumberland sausages’ fault and the egg that rolled out of the egg carton under the cabinet’s fault (I CAN’T FIND THE FUCKING EGG, WHERE IS IT? AN EGG CAN’T JUST DISAPPEAR, CAN IT?) and the grey day’s fault and something else’s fault that I can’t remember right now but whatever it is it’s to blame.
And why is there only ONE programme on telly for the whole of the week? Fucking FOOTBALL. Not just British football, but foreign EUROPEAN football. AND THEY’VE TAKEN THE SOAPS OFF TO SHOW IT. Even if you don’t like the soaps you have to agree with the fact that soaps are the bread and butter of the telly companies, they attract regular loyal viewers, but when it comes to showing SHITEY SPORT they treat their regular loyal viewers with disdain and contempt. And there’s no excuse for it now everything is on digital tellY, they could each get their own FREEVIEW SPORTS CHANNEL to show all the shitey sport they want to show. If you want to see how much fucking football is on telly this week go and look at my guide. FUCKING WANKING TELLY BASTARDS.
Will the egg hatch under my kitchen cabinet? I’m scared of chickens, they give me the creeps if I see them in any form other than just roasted.
And why is it so cold?
OY, WEATHER, WE’RE IN JUNE, YOU STUPID TWAT. GET WARM.
HERE, CHICKY-CHICKY-CHICKY, COME TO DOTTY!