Thursday, March 24, 2011

Dirty Christian

I was singing to Sam, we'll, actually, texting him, the milk milk lemonade around the corner chocolate made song, as I sat on the toilet taking a dump.

He didn't know it.

I was giving it to him complete with appropriate sound effects, so he'd pick it up fast. Actually, it was just a series of texts saying plop, plop, plop at the appropriate moment.

He told me I was disgusting.

Ah, the sanitised world… I told him we were all only one bad diagnosis away from being Ann on Little Britain and rubbing faecal matter all over ourselves.

He sent me back a series of unhappy icons.

I laughed.

When I told him I had it under my fingernails, he baulked.

The things that amuse me sometimes, you know, I've got to wonder.

People falling down…

The world’s fattest twins… the countries ugliest woman… the stupidest parents.

The dumb things people do. You know, I used to want to change the world... but now I just want to sit back and laugh at the stupidity.


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