I took Battle Cat down to see Nanny Boo Boo the other day and she hit me a clash on the mouth and said that her nephew had read on my blog that I'd been smoking crack again.
Most people I know that read my blog either don't know it's me or don't mention it but Nanny Boo Boo was saying that this ZIm Van Bindle character sounds like a complete fuck up and that his brain probably crawled out his ear one night and ran the fuck away.
Nanny Boo Boo said that I had my wee pup to think about and that how could I let a fuck up like Hot Baby Roy get dates with one of the girls next door and I couldn't get any. It was a right dressing down (not literally).
She said that I should cut out the crack, get a job, get my hair cut and buy some shoes that don't have holes in them. She said I looked like a tramp but she knew I could do better.
I told her it hurt my feelings and she said that if she thought I couldn't fix these things she wouldn't say them to me. She'd just not answer the door when I came to visit. But she knew I was a good lad with a lot of potential I just shouldn't waste it sitting round at a crackhead's house listening to him talk shite about Amazon armies and rainbow igloos. It sounds like some shite a child would scribble on a page and force it's worried, embarrased parent to stick on the fridge.
