Badly thought out way to get the bad thoughts out.

Friday 29 February 2008

The Skins Like Life of Corpsey

Today, I wokes up in bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like the duration of a Does It Offend You, Yeah? song and thought about last night.

Cor bare limey, I thoughts to myself, I can't believe how massive that party was last night! Technicolour neon flashes flickered through my eyes like coke crystal confetti as I stared up at my vibrating Nokia N9/11. I could barely avoid the flickering spectre of Krystal's paint and Nutella adorned TITS as I picked it up to see who was either a) inviting me to a well safe party or b) telling me my half-brother (who shares the same transexual islamist half-mother as me) has contracted AIDS from a gang rape at the party last night.

Because it isn't all fun, you know. Oh sure, there was that moment when I jumped off the roof of James' mansion directly into a fifty foot high bucket of afterbirth while 2000 of my m8s (including Lady Sovereign and one of the drum-sticks from Hadouken!) cheered me on ecstatically. And, FUCK, there was that bits when I was snorting bare sniffta up me nasals in the fourth floor kitchen, only to be interrupted by Jamies' ex-page three model mum who at first seemed to be about to reprimand me in a realistic fashion by picking up the wrap with a scowl, but then predictably poured the contents all over her thighs and told me to 'start with the coke and... finish with the crack!' in her polish accent. SURE, SURE- there was that bit when my good M8s the Klaxons turned up in a helicopter and performed a cover version of Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex while we all went totally mentmartian with our glowlogs in the air.

But there was also the savage beating of the token homosexual, let's not forget about that please people. And what about Greg finding out that the girl he was getting off with was not in fact off her tits on Ku Klux Ketamine, but was in fact had in fact cerebral palsy (even though it was still somewhat amusing because they used her dribble to loosen up her lips and she went ''Hnarder!'' which happens to be the surname of this German exchange student who goes to our school, who thought a girl was calling for him and ran away because he's a big fruitcake)? That weren't no laughing matter.

So it turned out it was an invite to another banging party, this time one that is being held up Lily Allen's skirt. I couldn't contain my teenage vitality and so jumped out of bed...

ONLY TO FIND OUT THERE WAS A BLOODY DOG ON MY COCK!

COR CRIMINY THAT IS BAIT AS!

1 comment:

Frank Mitchell said...

"Technicolour neon flashes flickered through my eyes like coke crystal confetti..."

"And what about Greg finding out that the girl he was getting off with was not in fact off her tits on Ku Klux Ketamine, but was in fact had in fact cerebral palsy "

HAHAHAHAHA...fucking mintit