There's a crack house on my doorstep There's a hooker on my street I've had my car radio nicked By kids with tattooed feet I've been burgled by a father and son Who knew no right from wrong They knew how much my camera was worth But not my balinese sarong I've been ripped off by some builders Who thought that I was rich They trashed my house and bank account Like i was just their bitch The twat who owns my freehold Comes from foreign lands He doesn't give a toss about me As long as my cash is in his hands My neighbours are just lazy chavs Who drink and watch sky TV A trained monkey could do that While studying for a degree There's a garage at the end of the row That dumps filth on the floor It ends up on my windscreen though Whenever there's a downpour I've had my fill of binge drinkers Whacked out upon Pernod I've had my fill of this neighbourhood It sucks more than you know It's time to [...]
Following yesterday's decision by the government, to ban smoking in all indoor public places, it is expected that almost every smoker in the country will begin whinging as much as 30 times a day once the smoking ban takes affect in 2007. "I'd given up whinging" says Stuart Chainwhiner (39), "but this ban puts me back to square one. What makes matters worse of course, is that from next summer I'll have to whinge outdoors, rain or shine."
Now I was of the belief that dumb nicknames were the exclusive preserve of the public school twit. Not so. A gentleman from the West Country appears to have retained a moniker he was given by 'some girl' at school who thought his head portrayed a remarkable resemblance to a golf-ball. Does that mean it's full of cork?
It was probably on a matter of seconds from the moment of opening the boot of our car - to there being a swarm of 'customers' scavenging amongst our unwanted posessions hunting for, well god only knows what. These were junk junkies, looking for their next fix, leaping around like castrated badgers in a tandoori oven. "How much for this?"; "What else have you got?"; "I'll give you a pound for this." It was like watching a group of spoiled children on an easter egg hunt, except with grown adults. I must admit even though I had been warned it would be like this, I wasn't quite prepared, and having gotten up at 5am no amount of coffee seemed to aid my composure. I had naively expected to be able to set up a nice attractive display of our wares before selling anything, but as it was - they were practically in the back of the car pawing through our stuff before you could say "where's the thermos?". But who are these people? Who gets up at 4am to [...]