Picture the scene...
I'm on my commute this morning. There's a lot of ice around and traffic is crawling so I'm stuck in a jam.
Then, as if purely to entertain me, a yoof appears, walking along the pavement next to my traffic jam.
He's wearing one of those grey "prison" style tracksuits, but with the super skinny calves and the crotch just between his knees, the waist band sitting proudly across his thighs and the bottom of his arse cheeks.
His gait is that of a lad with testicles the size of watermelons. He clearly cannot close his legs because of the sheer enormity of his sack, which would explain the scowl on his face, peeking out from under a far too tight baseball cap, worn on the back of his head with the peak pointing at the clouds. Much like a kid on a sunshine coach heading to a free day at Alton Towers because he's got some terrible affliction would wear it.
This was a walking (bowling) stereotype, the sort that you wish you could entertain yourself with in much the same way as a slinky; by pushing it down some stairs just for the pleasure.
Suddenly, and without warning, his "I've got massive bollocks and I will fuck you up" stride is interrupted by an unnoticed patch of black ice. He does that Bambi-esque, arm flailing, panic stricken recovery...but manages to stay upright. Everyone in the traffic jam that I can see looks disappointed.
A mere 3 seconds later though, we all get our wish. He hits the next patch and his feet slide apart in exactly the same way that Jane Torville's never did. He goes down like a sack of spuds. Unfortunately for him, it was then that his trouser choice came back to haunt him. Because the crotch is already halfway to the ground, as he falls, his whole arse, clad in some slightly grubby Kleins, is revealed to the world.
The giggling was palpable from the drivers around me, but even better was the big burly Yorkshire man in the car in front...who winds his window down and hollars ...
"Watch tha sen lad! It's reet slippy"
Just thought I'd share.
Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you
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My Trading Feedback | You Bring The Band
Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you"Take these three items, some WD-40, a vise grip, and a roll of duct tape. Any man worth his salt can fix almost any problem with this stuff alone." - Walt Kowalski
"Only two things are infinite - the universe, and human stupidity. And I'm not sure about the universe." - Albert Einstein
Seriously: If you value it, take/fetch it yourself
My Trading Feedback | You Bring The Band
Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after youIf he'd slid into the path of an oncoming juggernaut he'd be a winner.
My Trading Feedback | You Bring The Band
Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after youSuperb!
I was walking through town this morning, minding my own business on a cold icy morning, traffic was backed up on the road next to me, when I walked across a patch of ice and slipped and went arse over tit. Me trackies slipped down and my Kyber was exposed.
I was smarting from the fall when I saw the drivers of the cars laughing at me, one smug arse shouted out something unintelligible in a thick Geordie accent, I needed subtitles, couldn't understand a word of it.
Cruel bastards, but it don't matter, I got their reg numbers and will track them and burn their houses down.
You couldn't make it up....