Evening Freaks and Geeks, and welcome to a highly pissed off Letter from the Orifice.
You see this month on the (w)hole has been pretty fuckin good… you know a nice easy week off at the start relaxed and chilled to the max. We get ourselves hooked up with broadband Internet… looking even better and then it’s back to work. I should have seen the writing on the fuckin wall there and then.
From the day I went back to work things started to go down hill. I ended my week off starting flair up of the old Acne (why I am taking all these freaking drugs to control the Acne is beyond me they don’t fuckin work and just make me irritable and PISSED)…I digress. I erupt into many little mounds of… OK I know you don’t want to know… but needless to say they were painful and caused much misery. Once I got that sorted and dealt with it’s almost the end of the month, which aint so bad because we got our last bank holiday of the summer this past week so that was nice. Yet another long weekend off and we’re taking it easy again and relaxing.
Enjoying our day off we’re getting some household shit done. And at some point we notice that the Gate in our Garden is open… No real biggie probably the wind or local kids kicking a ball against it. We thought no more of it. Back to work on Tuesday and all is fine… well as fine as it can be back at work, I call home to make sure everything is OK and Linda asks.
“Where did you move the booze too?”
“I didn’t move it anywhere” replies I.
“Are you sure”?
“Yes I am pretty sure I didn’t move the 6 bottles of Hard Liquor from behind the fridge”
MY heart sank and it dawned on me in a split second that it wasn’t the wind or any kids kicking a ball, some scumbag fucker had walked in off the street and ripped us off. They took all the good stuff. The Litre bottles of Bacardi Rum Jack Daniels Vodka Generic Bourbon (that tasted just like jack) and Linda’s pride and joy Bacardi 151 Rum and they took a bottle of wine we think… I may have drunk it at some point who can tell these days.
Anyway the last 30 minutes of my shift at work and the twenty-minute bus ride home the only words that ran through my head are:
“I am going to rip some fuckers head right off and then I am going to piss and crap down their neck. When I am finished I may poke out his eyes and use it’s worthless empty head as a plant holder. I have some nice Horse shit I need to use to grow my roses”
Ok maybe I didn’t think all that at once but almost every line there is what went through my head. Basically I wanted to rip some fuckers head off
What makes this all so strange and even more unnerving is that both Linda and I sat in the next room whilst we were being ripped off. Neither of us heard a thing and we were oblivious to the fact until over 24 hours later.
I spent most of this last Wednesday waiting for the police to show up to take a statement and after they attempted to do their little bit of police work I decided that with that level of security on the street I wasn’t leaving the fucking house and I called off work.
The bastard had got to my head. I was frightened to leave my own home.
The police don’t hold out much hope of getting anything back and as I have been told so many times this week at least no one was hurt and you can always buy more Jack… all of this is true.
BUT SOME FUCKER CAME INTO MY HOUSE AND STOLE MY SHIT.
I swear if I get hold of him. I’ll make the shit drink a whole bottle of 151 in one gulp without breathing. Linda won’t be pleased but it’ll teach that runt not to fuck with people’s heads… especially those of us who are a little twisted.
Ok that’s the rant over with.
Can you guys believe it’s September already. What’s happened to 03? It seems to have flown by. It will soon be Christmas and we’ll be running around like blue arsed flies just to get ready. And people will be bitching at me for writing XMAS over Christmas. Happens every year so this one won’t be any different.
The British Postal service will soon be on strike. Apparently they can’t survive on £260 a week; hell I wish I made £200 a week without overtime. Some people are never happy with doing their jobs having a smoke and a wank and getting the fuck on with life.
Whelp that’s about it from us this month. I hope all you fellas out there were pulling your puds to save yourselves from Prostate cancer…aren’t you just so glad
I told you about that?
There hasn’t been a great deal of change over at www.phurwood.co.uk this month no time but look for updates soon.
Until next time… Keep your cuffs on the bedpost and your eye on the door.
All the best with Whips and Spanks
Linda and Paul