Modern Day Dilemmas – No.3. Skinny jeans my arse

Bleep, bleep head

When I first started this blogging business I called it fuckshitfuck. Why? Because seemingly that was the only thing in my head. I was going to question the fact that you get to a certain point in the day… or in your life when your head is completely filled to capacity with four letter word expletives but I’ve realised that I do not need to question it. It’s as if we get to a certain point and the word fuck and all its mates are completely dominating our thoughts and if any other more sensible thought might dare to try and enter the domain of your mind Fuck and all his little mates (Shit, Cunt and Wanker) scream “Fuck off out of it you stupid little arsewipe!” When we go to bed we go to sleep and we dream and the purpose of sleeping is to assimilate all we have learned in the day and to give our mind and our body a chance to repair itself otherwise we would undoubtedly disappear up into the arsewipe world of fuckshitfuck. Still, prior to this fuckshitfuck phase of the day I am befuddled by many things; the state of the world, the state of my life and the puzzling world of modern day celebrity. Like why, for fuck sake, are some people so famous? The wife of somebody, the ex-girlfriend of somebody, what the hell does it all mean? Why do I want these chancers telling me how to live my life, how to buy shoes, how to look good in a pair of skinny fucking jeans? That’s another one. Who the fuck invented skinny fucking jeans. And worse still… who told men that they were entitled to wear them too? Hardly anyone looks good in them (not unless you’ve got legs like straws and the oozability of a squid). Fuckshitfuck indeed.

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