Diary of an eejit

I have a friend, yes one, and they sell coffee- now I love coffee- it clears the colon in a way Princess Di would have been proud of but what the fuck happened to White or Black, sugar no sugar- now you go into a Starfucks and you have Harry Connick Fuckin Jnr singin and you are faced with a menu board the size of a shanty town roof. I would like a coffee please- now would that be a latte, a fratte, a fatty, a skinny, a cappucino, a frappucino- no I'll tell you what give me Fuckin Al Pacino! I want a coffee- I can cope with large or small- after that if there was a sharp instrument it would be going up a barista's nose. Oh and who the fuck put them in charge of the world, telling us how great they are at making coffee- Barista of the Year- I don't fuckin think so- let's have Plate Seller of the Year, Sandwich Maker of the Year. I was in Covent Garden at the weekend with my 69 year old Aunt- we go to the Punch and Judy- she wants a cappucino- they say sorry we only do filtered coffee- GOOD LADS- she gets all uptight- she's from Nth Ireland where they wouldn't know shit from shit. You could brew up acorns and serve it with frothy milk and they would go, Jesus this is great.

See that's the problem, every fucker is an expert now- stick to what you know- you're a milk man, good lad- so what do you want to go and sing on X Factor- because some arse said your rendition of Islands in the Stream down the pub was great.......I don't fuckin think so! Two words Just Jack!

The other thing about the world is- people on TV saying they will give 110% or 120%, or 150%, or 300%..........get a fuckin education you arsewipes- there can only ever be 100% of anything FACT- weeping there to Alan Sugar or fuckin Sharon Osbourne, or worse the biggest asswipe of the lot Louis Fuckin Walsh, I don't want to use the C word as I will be banned, but what a cow's!

As I travel the world, the other thing and it is especially prevalent in Dubai and India- taxi drivers who think they're Jackie Fuckin Stewart, stink of piss and BO and then take 30minutes to write a receipt- it's really good when they have been in a line waiting, with no AC on- the stench hits you when you get in like a fore arm smash from Mick McManus on a Saturday afternoon. Easy - wash your criggs, wash your armpits and slow the fuck down! I think the piss smell is from them scaring themselves as they drive- let's just hope they don't go for a hat trick and shit themselves.

Unfortunately my Mum got pick pocketed at the weekend and lost her purse- so she called me to deal with cancelling the cards- 6 cards, and I phoned every fuckin continent in the world- India, Bangladesh, Europe , Ireland, USA, and even spoke to an Aussie- I pressed 2, I pressed 1, I pressed *, I pressed  #, I pressed 3, I pressed my fingers into the pupils of my eyes- however I was happy because 26 different times I was told I was important and my call would be answered shortly- which was nice and made the 3 hours of my life really worthwhile. Is it any wonder people crack and go down McDonalds and shoot 25 people.

I am signing off now- going to France for a few days, so will be back with stories of happiness for your delectable selves- I'll fuck them up- I'll go round asking "Ou est le biblioteque? Le Biblioteque dans la cinema!"  Stick that in your Pernod glass and drink it garlic breath. 

Oh I think I'll choose remind me later option because it would be great to have the screen come up as you have £50 in your hand and 20 people pissed off behind you- there would be no sighing or tuting at all...............Jesus- what next , when you go to your local Cost Cutter and enter your pin for half a dozen eggs and a pint of milk, up pops a message, would you like to see our offers on Monster Munch. Cheeky Fuckin Bastards- not content in sending junk mail, you now have this shit to deal with- it's the equivalent of the guy from Bangalore phoning you in the middle of Coronation Street, telling you about his great deals on mobiles.......fuck off, the Cabin has just had Bet Lynch on a return visit and Dev is off his tits in the Corner Shop.

I have a tip for you- if some arse phones you at home and says they have someone in your area next week and have great offers on stone cladding- say this "I am so glad you called, any chance you can make an apoointment for me, we are looking at making our mock tudor 3 bedroom palace into a Vegas castle. " They will nearly fall off the seat and will say what about Tuesday at 4, you say " That's perfect...oh hold on I need to check with my wife". Call out to her and ask if Tuesday is ok, then go back and say sorry "My wife is going to get her feet done that day what about Wednesday?" . Continue this going through boils being lanced, piles being operated on, prolapse being pushed back up- you will piss yourself laughing and they'll hang up. That'll teach the fuckers.

And when I am on the subject of homes, what the hell is going on now- we have Location, Location, Location, then Relocation, Relocation, Relocation, and then Location, Location, Location Revisited, and then Relocation....Revisited- fuck me- what genius came up with this- and Kirsty Allsorts and Phil Specter need their bumps read- not to be confused of course with Phil Spectre the gloves don't fit you can't convict- looks like one of the 3 Stooges-music legend! And on that subject- I was watching some shite on cable with Bruno Brookes on it- the caption when he came up was Bruno Brookes Radio Legend. I nearly took a baseball bat to the plasma- fuckin legend, what does that make Ooh Aah, Gary Davies a fucking saint and Jimmy Saville God- fuck me blind- legend , more like a leg end- great boxer though, ask Anthea.

So I will finish with this- have you seen the crap- it started with Connie Fisher's Maria show, now we are looking for a Joseph for his amazing fucking technicolor fuckin dreamcoat, Sandy and the bollocks from Grease, an Opera Company on C4, Extras on cable- tell you what X Factor will be back on and that'll be the top- is it any wonder the suicide rate is on the increase - I still have the scars on my wrist when I heard Steps will be playing a tour with S Club 7. Two words- Cheap Shit and if it isn't reality tv with winners like John Barrowman telling you if you have talent or not, it is fuckin period costume dramas- period is right.