June 1st, 2011 at 10:35 pm by Stupid Rubbish


So I’m sitting outside a pub being me.

You know… ME…smoking a fat cigar and reading a magazine about motorbikes and guns and sex, drinking a pint of cloudy ale.

When a group of f*cking unusual children seemingly dressed as f*cking court jesters appear at the next picnic table.

Skinny  freakshow babies dressed in jeans so tight that they looked like f*cking patio chairs with ugly coats thrown over them on a rainy day.

So many stripes and their Walkman things make a relentless tinny noise.


Why are they all covering their faces with awful weird hair that makes them look like ugly girls?

Between them I’m guessing that their net dry weight divides up at about 7 stone each. And they seem to only be able to look at the floor rather than eachother. Also they smell weird and a bit like ham.

They are wearing fingerless f*cking gloves.

Fingerless gloves.

And now they are pretending that the smoke from my fat cigar is making them cough, but I’m already wondering how they think this is going to go. You know – how do they REALLY see this little circus of f*ckIDIOT panning out?

So I’m looking at them now, they haven’t even bought a drink or gone in the pub yet. I don’t know that they are old enough even.

One of them has f*cking NAIL POLISH on.

>baby coughs<

I’m staring at them like a large hairy motherf*cker.

I asked them if my cigar smoke was bothering them.

“Passive smoking” they bleated.

“Stop breathing then” I helpfully offered.

“It’s really bad for you” they said.

“Yes” I replied.

“But, you know, it’s not as bad for you as having a picnic table umbrella FORCED UP YOUR ANUS you f*cking weirdly dressed circus children. f*ck OFF and leave me alone or one of you will DIE TODAY”

They quietly left.

I won.



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