Monday, September 29, 2003

Much delay between postings, can't seem to automate blog mode. Some little twat keeps keying one of my cars and I'm starting to get mighty pissed off as this is the third time. Bizarre, you pay a fucking packet to move to a tranquil little village for peace and quiet and some prick gets his jollies scratching your car. A friend around the corner had his brand spanker mini done on the same night. The phantom keyer will regret R catching up with him ( if he does ) he's a mighty big feller and a bit of a petrolhead, the mini being his p & j. What is the mentality ? It's a fucking astra for christs sake ( A's not mine, if he'd touched mine the posse would have been out a while ago ) it's a means of carrying two kids and related paraphenalia, even she can't stand the damn thing. It's so bland it should be called a vauxhall beige so why the fucking hell does someone wan't to key the bastard? Arseholes
Not been summonsed for speeding yet, fingers crossed, but I was a good polite boy to the nice lady plod.
Just collected first tickets of the season to see the mighty Glaws, good game to against wiggy and the rest of his tigger mates. Can't wait, good company, rugby, the mighty black stuff, gods own apples etc etc.
C exposed to power rangers for the first time at friends. Suppose it had to happen, but I can't stand that type of shite, his imagination is wild enough not to need that crap. He doesn't really get it tho, on holiday in August he was playing with some older kids of some friends, carging around proclaiming 'I'm a ginger turtle !' Long may it stay that way.

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