Luck or Destiny - Who Knows
4 'O Clock in the morning and for once I wasn't woken by the ungodly, tone deaf squawks of roosters, no, they were at it, but I've channelled my subconcious into a 'no clucking zone' and can quite easily mould the halfhearted cockadoodles to merge into my dreams..Example: say I'm getting felated by Cheryl Cole, she kind of grows a crest and starts gobbling during the nosh...not an ideal set of circumstances, but it's tiding me over for the time being..
No, this morning I was woken by what felt like a tsunami occuring in my large intestines. The rumbling was so violent that the foundations of my house rattled ever so slightly. I SPRINTED to the bog, cursing just about everything I saw..'what the fuck are you looking at you bastard wardrobe?'..and landed on the toilet where I spent some 15 minutes ridding myself of last nights dinner; that's the last time I go to THAT market stall!!
Stomach still in a fragile state, I boarded my motorcycle and set off for work. Obviously boarding one's bike is a manouver which, if you can pinch a few inches (or feet) from your stomach, puts a little strain on one's lower garments..so 'ping' went the fastener of my trousers..brilliant, strike two..
No time to change (the belt should conceal that little mishap) I set fire to a length of tobbaco and tore out of my drive way, feeling somewhat despondent.
It was some 10 minutes into the journey when a violent tickling sensation at the back of my throat caused me to vigorously cough..now, this isn't so bad I hear you reason, everyone coughs do they not??
Yes, well, everyone does..but not everyone is the proud owner of a fake tooth mounted on a plate which flew out of my mouth with the force of the cough..and guess what?
There was a friendly articulated lorry behind me who was kind enough to smash the fucking thing into pieces.
So, here I am, a big hole on my face, trousers round my ankles, perpetually in need of a shit..
Ho hum..s'all fun..
