Millies and Mileys

Last night me and Hot Baby Roy took a dander into town to see what we could see. Passing the Ulster Hall we were confronted with the sight of lots of very underage girls dolled up like they were going to a fancy dress party as mawfucking hoes.

Hot Baby Roy was lingering slow and I told him to come on dem little ladies was gonna get us in trouble da police was everywhere like it was a paedo trap.

"I don't care about them," he said. "They all look like Miley's."
"You mean millie," I said.
"No," he corrected me. "Miley, as in Miley Cyrus. Not a Kirsten Dunst among them."
"She's in her twenties," I said.
"She was a cute teenager," this lot are on a fast track to Buckfast and pram pushing. There's subtler ways of attracting boys. Who are we?"

He went back to his daydream and didn't say anything much else apart from "I'm sexy, I'm cute, I'm popular to boot."

We didn't find anything except for an old tramp. I wanted him to tell us some street knowledge but he grumbled and boked until we grew tired and went home to find our knowledge on crap TV.

Sitting Sick on the Sofa

Sitting on the sofa with a big violent dog and a television allows you to take a different perspective on things than you normally do.

Today I observed:

T4 tends to pair white boys with ethnic girls for its presenting teams (I'm sure it's just been one big coincidence).

Stacy Slater killed Archie (shock horror!? Who the fuck was Archie?! I haven't watched Eastenders in years) and she makes Battle Cat try to hump the sofa.

The Canadian Bob Sleigh team had a nasty topple at high speed and headbutt the wall incident that they walked away from unharmed.

Curling is a sport for millies and their mothers (judging by the GB team), and for people who want to say "I brush ice for a living."

Early repeats of Friends remind us that 90s fashion only seemed okay because it came after the 80s.

Little My is Boring as Fuck

In work today Little My has been boasting like fuck all about what her boyfriend bought her for Christmas and more importantly how much it all cost and how she checked the price of it in the shops and her man isn't cheap. They've only been going out a few weeks so he might be an arsehole. Kissy Boy says he's definitely an arsehole, not just for the money he spent but for going out with Little My in the first place.

He asked her what did she buy him and Little My said that it was the man's place to splash the cash.

It'll all end in tears, hopefully hers.

She told a story all about how her man told some guy in a pub to "fuck aff" and it was some craic and how her and all her mates have some craic slagging the pish out of each other.

It sounds like a San and Tray appreciation society.

Little My's ma Big My sits in the bar and tells dickheads to shut up and she hit someone a dig in the face and it was all too much to listen to. I looked round to see that no one else was listening either.

As Little My finished her story no one laughed in the right place so she told it again, louder with more cursing.

No one laughed this time either.

She said, "there's something wrong with you folk, no one here's any craic."

I nearly bought some crack when we got out wages but I didn't want to tell anyone. There were fuck all calls coming in so I'm just waiting for Little My to shut up or the shift to end.