Flying visit. 

General Nonsense

Hello! I just dropped in to tell you about the alternative bucket list I’ve started. It’s not exhaustive and is very much a work in progress. 

Must dash – I’ve just necked a Sleepeaze and feel it working its magic already. 

My bucket/ fucket list. 

  1. Roll naked on wet grass, while laughing like a drain. 
  2. Go a day without rolling my eyes or saying FOR FUCKSAKE. 
  3. Eat a deep fried macaroni pie in batter. Maybe two. 
  4. Throw a chair at a big window. 
  5. Motorboat Dolly Parton. 
  6. Get an ASBO
  7. Cut a ponytail off without the owner’s consent. 
  8. Sweep a shelf of overpriced tatt in a posh shop on to the floor while shouting “YER STUFF’S SHITE” at the top of my voice. 
  9. Pour a drink over somebody’s head. 
  10. Not end up in prison for any of the above. 
  11. Set off a fire extinguisher to see what the stuff looks like. 
  12. Pull the emergency cord on a train. (Is that even still a thing?)
  13. Have a tiger anaesthetised so I can cuddle the shit out of it. 

What’s on your bucket/fucket list?

3 Comments

  1. Ali ney (Oberheim) 26/05/2015 10:36 PM

    Use that defibrillator thingy at work, that I can’t remember how to use, on SOME of the most annoying people in the office, there are many.
    Poke the next person that says “there’s nothing worse than” when they’re talking about drivel like a toothache, in the eye with a sharp stick.
    Get totally plastered, get my bairns to get me back to their hoose and throw up on the only minuscule bit of rug that they have in their otherwise laminated hoose! Ok, that ones a bit raw.
    Stab the tyres of the next arse that pinches my parking space, especially when I’ve got viewings or loads of shopping or its raining.
    I could go on, but enough, I’m getting stabby x

  2. LJ 12/06/2015 9:16 AM

    Re. Número 8:
    My dad walks round those shops (most shops in fact), looks at pricetags/quality of products/availability of products and usually announces, loudly, to my mother’s horror: “Some shop this!”.
    I’m never sure who is more mortified – my mother or the shop owner/assistant/lackey. Even Costa don’t get away with it if there’s no newspapers available. Nowhere is safe from my father’s put-down.

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