Clyde

'That sunny Jim, is Frivolous mirth at its best.' She said.

I said, 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'

She groweled back. 'Stop being so fucking childish.'

'Oh, somecunt's been eating a dictionary for breakfast.' I replied.

There was no need to throw a shoe. Somecunt could have lost a fucking eye.

Quite brainy words fae that cunt, considering they came from someone who doesn’t know how to work a bloody cooker. I try my best, I tried to make the cunt laugh but fuck all seems to work these days.

All I did was hold a lit cigarette in my foreskin and imitate a helicopter, I thought it was fucking funny, I was laughing, is it my fault she left a new fucking silk blouse lying on the floor. Anyone would think I tried to burn a fucking hole in it.

Back to square one, back to wanking myself daft in the spare room.

I know, I’ll buy the idiot some flowers.

No, she’ll think I stole them from the graveyard. When will she let things go? I was drunk for fuck sake and it was ten years ago.

There is no point in dressing up, apparently dressing up as the Joker is not considered a turn on.

She can speak for herself on that one!

Oils and candles are out of the question as well, the insurance weren’t going to pay out the last time we fucking tried that.

Oh, I don’t know, the last time she was this fucking bad, she was preg..n..a..nt.

Fuck me!

Fuck, there goes the golf next year and I just got a membership, Fuck.

I wonder if she’ll let me name this one? I wanted to call the last one Clyde if it was a boy.

She’s the one who though about monkeys, I told her, he is not a fucking monkey he is an orangutan, and there is a difference, its not like I wanted to call the baby PG Tips or something.

Woman, she was at the back of the queue when the humour genes, were shared out.