I am getting worried as I get older that I can't cope with life- the onset of a pot belly, piles, grey pubes, slowing up of the metabolism, red tape, arseholes you work for- life seems to be difficult so there's certain things you don't need.
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.
