Davidd has been inboxing me head clean off me shoulders asking me if I’d write yas more of these blog things. Even said he would double me wage but seein’ as am gettin’ fuck all anyway that’s easy for him to say. So looks like ‘ave become a proper little Jackanory avn’t i? So ‘ere goes… the other night my berd came down the stairs after goin the bog, i jokingly asked her “av you been for a shite?” she frowned at me an said “eeee shurrup!” Laughing i said “aahh, am only messn’”… or was I?…
Ihave done loadz of these now and ya should be getting the hang ov dealin with berds so this is me last blog thing. I’ll give ya some last tips before I go though. First off remember, relationships are fuckn sly on lads. Berds are just better at “romance” than lads are, it’s a facts. From a very young age, scouse lads are programmed not to be a fuckn berd, you must ov herd dads tellin their little lads to “stop crying”, “get up” an “hit him back”. See emotions, crying, umbrellas, “chats” and prams, are for girls. Running, fighting, shouting and suppressing ur emotions are for boys. then like a birthday or anniversary comes along and ur supposed to know what flowers your berd likes, what her favourite chocolates are, plan a romantic night and generally “sweep her off her feet”. So what i’ve done here is make a list. A list of things lads should and shouldn’t do… I’m like the doctor arn i?
Fuckn hell, warm isn’t it? How buzzing is everyone with the weather. Kinnell girls are running out into the street screaming and lying on the floor quick to get some kind of tan that they’ve not had to put 3 tokens in a machine for. Some fuckn man head was moaning about it the other day saying “Ughhh, its too hot!!” Yeh, you know why girl? It’s coz you’ve got a pair of jeans on with a big red hoody you man headed ming. I know you’ve got to “stay true” to your skateboarder roots, or whatever, but fuckn hell? Just chill out, put a little skirt on, and av a magnum or suttn.
Girls, do you think you know your old fella quite well? You know his favourite film, you’ve bought his favourite lager for him, and you’ve done that thing with his balls that he likes (you little dirt, am onto yooz). Thing is, you’ve never truly seen your fella untill you’ve watched him watch football. Every normal lad watches football in Liverpool, if he doesn’t, its all over. Be arsed with him, sittn there watching Scrapheap Challenge and thinking its fuckin boss. So really, you should take some comfort from the fact your fella watches togger, he’s normal and scouse if he does. Obviously, its got to either be Everton or Liverpool — any other team is a wool team. So if he starts saying some bollocks like “I think tranmere will be promoted again this season,” or “You should come and watch a Bury match with me one day,” its all over. Just put your coat on and bail. He’ll only moan and give you shit about supporting a team from liverpool anyway and whos got time for all that shit? Also, don’t accept the idea that your fella is alright coz he supports Liverpool, but he’s from Bury. Sorry, that doesn’t make your situation any better. A wools a wool. Soz!
Although I’ve been a member of facebook since abah 2007, its really starting to get on my bleedn wick! This must mean that I actually hate everyone I know, obviously, because everyone I know is on there, and they make it shit. So. Yerno. The thing with facebook is that it forces you to tell people stuff you wouldn’t normally even think to yourself. My timeline is full of shite like “starving”, “ughh I hate Mondays” “cant believe this rain” “fumin” game invites, boring twats tryna add my birthday to some bullshit app, “farmville” and some other bollocks about egg hunting or suttn. The other thing that I’ve noticed is those stupid quotations like “true love is when you sniff your mans clothes when he’s not there”. This shit is normally accompanied by a man and a woman walking down a beach, in the sunset. Yawn, who comes up with this shit?
Last time I started talkin’ about shoppin’ and how birds love it and lads hate it. The worse thing to any scouse lad is not just goin’ shoppin’ but going shopping with his bird. Scouse birds are even worse than ya normal birds because they all own mirrors that distort the colours and shape of new clothes. Why is it, they can walk around town, all day to finally find a dress they love. The dress that seems to emotionally move them in some way. The dress that they actually love more than there own family. Then they get the dress home… They fuckin’ hate it! How does that happen… love in the shop, hate in the house?
There are a few things in life that fry ur head. Things like goin’ the dentist, crashin’ ur car into some juice head, findin’ out your ex bird is preggo an its probably yours and using them stupid fuckin’ “Link” cash machines (wool as fuck them). Worse than any of these things to any scouse lad is of course, going shopping with his bird. Girls seem to take great satisfaction in dragging their fella out the shops, and for what? Some grown man sulking along behind you like a kid wanting football stickers for school. I’m not even talking about the money issue, the modern scouse female doesn’t need our money lads. They dont need it, but will spend it like there is no tomorrow should you offer to pay and if your a wool reading this, you should know that your new scouse bird will have at least 30% of your wages spent in her head, before you’ve even seen it. Soz abah them, it’s just in their nature.
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