This Blog's an outlet, really, a place to let off steam.
So today I'll just say .... I'm a gentle, placid, mild person. Good natured, even. I'm (believe it or not) unthreatening, I put people at their ease. This, I'm told frequently. And it's true.
But ... screw me over, and I will fight you tooth and nail to the last. In fact, I'll see it as a kind of sport and make it my goal to beat you on principle. You'll wish you never tried. You get the gist.
So, to the shitty little cheeky bitch who is trying to steal from my business, who's miring my name and reputation in claims of fraudulence .... you have fucking got it coming, sweetheart. If I have to pop round to your address and physically remove that money from you with brute force, I will do it. And feel better afterwards. You've been warned.
All else in life continues fabulously. And way more productively than last week. Though, regrettably, I have my food appetite back. I rather enjoyed losing all those pounds in thrall to sex.
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
Friday, 18 April 2008
Update
So how things panned put: yes I went out there, put forth, and succeeded. But having succeeded, decided I didn't really want it anyway, thanks very much, so have not taken this up any further.
Appreciate this means fuck all to the casual reader. But it was hella gratifying for me. 'Nuff said.
Things continue, life continues.
The Hot Date indeed texted me in their tipsy horny loneliness. Great, so that's human nature. I'm not going to score points out of it.
The Love Interest I have been seeing regularly (well, weekly, and that's not as regularly as I would like) and it's recently reached new levels of total fucking hotness, thanks very much.
All my life I've had this condition. Thanks to the privilege of living in 2008, I now realise my condition is not uncommon and that indeed there is a physical solution to this physical problem. So in the next few weeks I shall endeavour to resolve the life-long condition. What's a few grand between me and my fulfilled future? Exact-ly. That's got you wondering, hey.
Road-rage incidents I have endured / enjoyed of late (I do like a bit of motor-sport):
(i) A peasant in a peasant-mobile insists on doing 60 in the outside lane of a 5 lane motorway. I find myself tailgating him. He gives me the finger. I continue to sit behind him, not responding. He slams on his brakes, then swerves into the middle lane, totally reluctantly allowing me to pass. I pass, then pull into the middle lane on front of him, he gives me the finger again. I brake hard so he brakes, then zoom away easily in my 6 gear sports car. I emasculate him.
(ii) I zoom along (within the speed limit of course) in the outside lane at night (the stress of incurring middle lane slow cruisers who don't move over is too provoking). A small car in the middle lane starts flashing their rear fog light at me. This is common. I drive a new car, its lights are so bright, apparently I blind oncoming drivers who believe I have my lights on full beam and am too much of a tosser to dim them. I have my lights on their normal factory setting. Blame the manufacturer, not me. I gently flash my hi-beams momentarily to let them know my lights are NOT on their highest setting (fuck it, I'm a considerate driver). Still, they flash their rear fogs. I eventually pass them. Then the cunts put on THEIR high beams, blinding me. I step on my brakes and pull over into the slow lane. They pass me. Then I put on my high beams and leave them there, blinding the wanker, so they know just how wrong they've been. There is nothing in the opposite lane (m'lord). People need to be taught a lesson.
Why do I seem to attract such road-rage from people? Is it my car? Me - what/who I am? I've worked my fucking bollocks off for my nice car. Let no-one think I'm some ponce with an easy life who's eased their way into my nice motor. I have bruises, tiredness and long working hours to thank for my motor. And don't you fucking forget it.
If people 'front' me once I've overtaken them, I will slam on the brakes in front to respond and force them to slow down and see what happens next. This is crazy and inviting violence but I like the idea of worrying them to be honest. More so if it's a female driver, who is lets face it going to be all mouth and no trousers. If it's a man, I'll have a logical response at the ready so he doesn't think I'm simply provoking a fight.
Other things of note - none. The week has been a write-off, for all the best reasons.
Appreciate this means fuck all to the casual reader. But it was hella gratifying for me. 'Nuff said.
Things continue, life continues.
The Hot Date indeed texted me in their tipsy horny loneliness. Great, so that's human nature. I'm not going to score points out of it.
The Love Interest I have been seeing regularly (well, weekly, and that's not as regularly as I would like) and it's recently reached new levels of total fucking hotness, thanks very much.
All my life I've had this condition. Thanks to the privilege of living in 2008, I now realise my condition is not uncommon and that indeed there is a physical solution to this physical problem. So in the next few weeks I shall endeavour to resolve the life-long condition. What's a few grand between me and my fulfilled future? Exact-ly. That's got you wondering, hey.
Road-rage incidents I have endured / enjoyed of late (I do like a bit of motor-sport):
(i) A peasant in a peasant-mobile insists on doing 60 in the outside lane of a 5 lane motorway. I find myself tailgating him. He gives me the finger. I continue to sit behind him, not responding. He slams on his brakes, then swerves into the middle lane, totally reluctantly allowing me to pass. I pass, then pull into the middle lane on front of him, he gives me the finger again. I brake hard so he brakes, then zoom away easily in my 6 gear sports car. I emasculate him.
(ii) I zoom along (within the speed limit of course) in the outside lane at night (the stress of incurring middle lane slow cruisers who don't move over is too provoking). A small car in the middle lane starts flashing their rear fog light at me. This is common. I drive a new car, its lights are so bright, apparently I blind oncoming drivers who believe I have my lights on full beam and am too much of a tosser to dim them. I have my lights on their normal factory setting. Blame the manufacturer, not me. I gently flash my hi-beams momentarily to let them know my lights are NOT on their highest setting (fuck it, I'm a considerate driver). Still, they flash their rear fogs. I eventually pass them. Then the cunts put on THEIR high beams, blinding me. I step on my brakes and pull over into the slow lane. They pass me. Then I put on my high beams and leave them there, blinding the wanker, so they know just how wrong they've been. There is nothing in the opposite lane (m'lord). People need to be taught a lesson.
Why do I seem to attract such road-rage from people? Is it my car? Me - what/who I am? I've worked my fucking bollocks off for my nice car. Let no-one think I'm some ponce with an easy life who's eased their way into my nice motor. I have bruises, tiredness and long working hours to thank for my motor. And don't you fucking forget it.
If people 'front' me once I've overtaken them, I will slam on the brakes in front to respond and force them to slow down and see what happens next. This is crazy and inviting violence but I like the idea of worrying them to be honest. More so if it's a female driver, who is lets face it going to be all mouth and no trousers. If it's a man, I'll have a logical response at the ready so he doesn't think I'm simply provoking a fight.
Other things of note - none. The week has been a write-off, for all the best reasons.
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