I can't believe that I'm that bored that I've even bothered to read this far, fcuk me I drove from Hull to Manchester whilst desperate for a shite today, I don't know if I can take much more of this excitement.
Aunty Stella - please come on here and call me a cnut, it's been that sort of a day.
Not a 'rank' as such, but after several years and a few thousand posts each, Meridian and I are still here. You've managed to make a complete cunt of yourself after just 30-odd posts. You'll never reach the top of the food chain if you carry on like this.
PS. Obviously a rather poor wah.
Edited to say cunt. We can still say cunt, can't we?[/quote
Go away or otherwiise we will chat in person]
OK the Great Manchester Shit run seems to have raised a bit of interest so here's the deal:
For lunch I made some home made Parisian Pea Soup for the Mem Sahib and I, much enjoyed and had about a pint of the soup. Set off to see some customers in Manchester (Walkden). Got to junction 22 on M62 and series of accidents had cased massive tailbacks and long delays. Realised that shite was needed but getting later and later. J19 traffic started moving so decided not to stop at services but head straight for customerâs pub. Down East Lancs. Road hit more traffic and shite hitting critical mass. Again more traffic began to realise it might be a crapper too far. Half a mile from destination and the unthinkable begins to dawn on me, I may not make it!
Stuck at yet another red traffic light I surrender to the inevitable, I am going to disgrace myself but the churning and bubbling in my guts is taking on a life of itâs own, it had formed its own community. When you get to that low point you kind of relax and go all calm and I think it was this low point that saved me because as I relaxed a stream of gas hissed out of my relaxed sphincter giving off the most foul stench known to man and with a pumped up super shite closely following. This escape of nerve agent gave me just enough relief so once again I clamped off and the traffic lights mercifully changed for me. By the time I had got to the pub the feeling had built up again and this time I really didnât think there would be a merciful release of death-smog to allow relief. I pulled into the car park and was straight into the pub and into the bogs. I sat down and enjoyed five minutes of a constant stream of the most fetid, disgusting pile of detritus ever to issue out of a human being but oh the blessed relief!
The journey back was a walk in the park with hardly a queue to be seen anywhere!
I must humbly and profoundly bow down to your most to sincerely achieved rank, you are senior to me 'cos you post more.
Do the words f*ck you, dicksplash ever crop up in your conversations?
If not, you surprise me.