Scrot bags and that...

I've a comment!! Cici Sun! Did Ralfie send you?!? Wha planet you on? You have jet pack? Good that someone got a laugh out of something though innit. Not much funny going on when you stop spitting at cyclists and sniffing your own shoes. There's plenty problems to be had - whether its your ma trying to top you with poison stir fry or your weird neighbour being a wanker. Nowadays, instead of living next door to Jimmy who's married to your friend's neighbour who's dad used to work in some sort of mine with your dad, you know feck all about them except what kind of car they drive (because the bastard sometimes parks in your space) and that they look kind of shifty and sinister. Maybe he's into child porn, maybe she sells drugs, maybe he dresses his pets up in wee booties and tartan hats. This kind of thing can get out of hand quite easily - soon the neighbours are cannabalistic serial killers communicating with the dead and making handbags from scrotums. No wonder you bolt for your car or drop to one knee to inspect a worrying weed whenever you bump into each other in the street. Perfectly normal behaviour - for a serial killer. Lock the doors, bolt the hatch, arm the gunners! But its not just the neighbours - there's the real strangers and the bombers and the rapists and the drunk drivers and child molesters and STDs and its a wonder any of us are alive. The thing is I've never met anyone that's been bombed or murdered - and neither have most the people I know. Maybe I'm just really really lucky to have such really lucky friends or the whole fear and lock up yer kids routine has gone completely mental. People in 4x4s taking their kids to school - the only people I am tempted to kill and eat then make classy coutoure out of - make the little bastards walk! Look how fat and smug they are. Look at their piggy little eyes staring at some shiny box full of crazy frogs and farting dinosaurs, holding up all the other cars with an average 1.2 people in them. 1.2 people per car moving small pedals up and down and spinning a wheel in between bouts of screaming abuse at all the other cars full of 1.2 equally angry people. Remember - the next time you roll down the window and shout something about anal sex with somebody's mother - at that precise moment - you have taken your first step to having no neighbours and a collection of oddly shaped handbags made of man-scrot. Use strong thread and seal with hot tar. Good luck.