Sausage Rolls,Wet Shorts and MANBOY!

My shorts. My shorts are wet. Sopping wet. I just went to pull them out of my backpack and they are soaked with an unknown substance but everything else in my bag is bone-dry. I cannot make head-nor-tail of it. I also found a wrapper for a type of sausage roll I have never eaten in there. I don’t mean that I eat sausage rolls in my bag, but the wrapper was in my bag. You know what I mean.

Also I am worn out. I have started a job that’s two villages over so I have to cycle 12 miles every day I have a shift. I have to cycle 6 miles in, then stand for eight hours before cycling the 6 miles back home. Don’t get me wrong, my legs are thick with strength but they are also growing tired. I fear they may one day soon turn into Jeremy Beadles gimpy hand. And this is not an option. I need my legs for my new career goal as an Olympic triple jumper and I also need them for kicking crime in the balls. I’m a crime fighter now too, as it goes.

I dress in a pink leotard with a long, blonde wig and hide in the bushes around sketchy areas of where I live and on the first sign of trouble brewing I kick off, beat down everyone in sight and disappear into the night. You can call me ManBoy and you’re welcome.

Also I want to start breeding monkeys. I’ve always wanted a pet monkey but recently realised I will probably never get one, so I changed my plan there to breed a shit-ton of them instead of just having the one. If I’m not going to achieve my goals, I’m not going to achieve them properly is the way I see it. When I fail I like to fail hard. I also like to fall hard. I slipped outside a bar the other night and landed flat on my face and I honestly thought I had lost another tooth. I don’t know what I would do if I lost another font tooth. Or any tooth for that matter. Maybe cry a bit?

Anyway, come to Swansea this Friday. I’m doing a gig at Monkey Cafe with Bob Slayer and I’m excited. I haven’t done a gig with him in too long. We will cause trouble. It was at a gig with Bob I had to piss in someones shoe. And at another gig, than ran on for about three hours, we got everyone to ignore the smoking ban and spark up indoors. It was awesome fun for all the family. except your children.

And your sisters.


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