Fatt Max
8th December 2008, 06:22
Saturday.
Big Dave’s annual Christmas piss up. Kicks off about 11.00am with beer and sausages and by 3.00pm I’m a 15 box of Heineken down and feeling a bit weary.
Decide to go and have a nice lie down in the garden for an hour to recharge the batteries in anticipation of the evenings entertainment.
Pitch a brolley and lie down on the shade.
Wake up after, ooh about 2 hours and the brolley has gone. No worries about that but why is every prick at the party laughing and pointing at me.
Well, while I was asleep, the bastards had removed the brolley and painstakingly cut out the letters GYYBOA from post it notes. Then they rearranged them and stuck them gently on my forehead to read the words GAY BOY. Of course, being a pommie I go as red as a beetroot in the sun so when I peeled the paper off I see that GAY BOY has been burned nicely into my head.
Great…..
Sunday
With my head feeling like I have a family of Samoans living in it after last nights boozing, I head down to Mr Richard Smiths shop and buy me a $400 camera phone. Get home about 10.00am and the missus is not impressed with my new forehead tattoo….I also have very bad guts and am dropping flappy woof woof’s that would drop a rhino at 20 paces.
I charge up the phone, have a butchers at the instructions and decide I need to get on the bike and have a ride to clear the head. I suit up, wheel the bike down the drive and as I go to put the phone in my zip pocket, I drop the fucker right down the drain outside my house.
Oppsie-fucking-daisy, cant effin’ believe it. Straight into the car port and grab my cockney master key (crowbar actually, opens 99.9% of all doors) and haul the drain cover open. Cant see the phone as it must be submerged in the stinky black stuff at the bottom of the drain.
I know, I’ll get the wee mans fishing net and get it with that mee thinks. And as I go to stand up I hear the ‘tinkle tinkle’ of metal and watch my bike keys fall out of my top pocket and down the drain as well….
FFFFFAAAAAACCCCKKKK…….luckily enough the keys have dropped onto a little ledge and I can see them so I run inside, grab a wire coat hanger (is that a town in Northland by the way?) and armed with my retrieval tools successfully get the phone and the keys back.
I go back inside and omit to wash my hands. I pick up the garment that was on the coat hanger and realise it’s a brand new dress that the missus has just had altered for a girlie Christmas lunch thing today……and its covered in crap from the drain…..
The Aftermath
I still have the words GAY BOY on my head
My new $400 phone is fucked
I had to hand over my credit card so the missus can get a new dress this morning
No body loves me
I’m fat
My winkie has a small green thing growing out the side of it
….the list goes on
Have a great day
:crybaby:
Big Dave’s annual Christmas piss up. Kicks off about 11.00am with beer and sausages and by 3.00pm I’m a 15 box of Heineken down and feeling a bit weary.
Decide to go and have a nice lie down in the garden for an hour to recharge the batteries in anticipation of the evenings entertainment.
Pitch a brolley and lie down on the shade.
Wake up after, ooh about 2 hours and the brolley has gone. No worries about that but why is every prick at the party laughing and pointing at me.
Well, while I was asleep, the bastards had removed the brolley and painstakingly cut out the letters GYYBOA from post it notes. Then they rearranged them and stuck them gently on my forehead to read the words GAY BOY. Of course, being a pommie I go as red as a beetroot in the sun so when I peeled the paper off I see that GAY BOY has been burned nicely into my head.
Great…..
Sunday
With my head feeling like I have a family of Samoans living in it after last nights boozing, I head down to Mr Richard Smiths shop and buy me a $400 camera phone. Get home about 10.00am and the missus is not impressed with my new forehead tattoo….I also have very bad guts and am dropping flappy woof woof’s that would drop a rhino at 20 paces.
I charge up the phone, have a butchers at the instructions and decide I need to get on the bike and have a ride to clear the head. I suit up, wheel the bike down the drive and as I go to put the phone in my zip pocket, I drop the fucker right down the drain outside my house.
Oppsie-fucking-daisy, cant effin’ believe it. Straight into the car port and grab my cockney master key (crowbar actually, opens 99.9% of all doors) and haul the drain cover open. Cant see the phone as it must be submerged in the stinky black stuff at the bottom of the drain.
I know, I’ll get the wee mans fishing net and get it with that mee thinks. And as I go to stand up I hear the ‘tinkle tinkle’ of metal and watch my bike keys fall out of my top pocket and down the drain as well….
FFFFFAAAAAACCCCKKKK…….luckily enough the keys have dropped onto a little ledge and I can see them so I run inside, grab a wire coat hanger (is that a town in Northland by the way?) and armed with my retrieval tools successfully get the phone and the keys back.
I go back inside and omit to wash my hands. I pick up the garment that was on the coat hanger and realise it’s a brand new dress that the missus has just had altered for a girlie Christmas lunch thing today……and its covered in crap from the drain…..
The Aftermath
I still have the words GAY BOY on my head
My new $400 phone is fucked
I had to hand over my credit card so the missus can get a new dress this morning
No body loves me
I’m fat
My winkie has a small green thing growing out the side of it
….the list goes on
Have a great day
:crybaby: