I just bit the inside of my f*ckING STUPID MOUTH again.
I first bit it approximately twenty minutes ago whilst eating a hot sandwich.
Bacon if you must know.
And although I was fully aware of the festering little PERVERT on the inside of my mouth cheek and although I was actually just sat harmlessly reading…
I STILL f*ckING IRRELEVANTLY BIT IT AGAIN IN THE SAME PLACE.
Why must my IGNORANT TEETH betray me like this?
How many more idiotic mouth-bites am I going to undertake on exactly the samebastard piece of SOAKING GOB before I can break the cycle?
This is like f*cking paper cuts.
f*cking stinging, awful, don’t-realise-until-they-bleed paper cuts.
There is a universal bastard LAW at work that states that any time you get a paper cut, no matter where you are, within a quarter of an hour of realising you have the injury your hands will come into direct f*cking contact with either vinegar, tomato-juice or lemon-juice.
You could be in the middle of the f*ckING DESERT and all you would need to do to ensure your survival would be to self-inflict a small paper cut. Because sure as f*cking EGGS IS EGGS – you’ll be getting some form of BURNING FOOD JUICE right in it, very shortly.
Don’t even get me STARTED on that flicking eyelash thing.