Saturday, April 30, 2011

There's a black sock lying on my front lawn. All limp and lonely.

It makes me feel sick.

Obviously some pervo has slipped it off and wiggled his nude toes boldly on my grass. Call me a prude but I feel we're going to hell in a hamburger. There's guys walking the streets with their toes on full display - it leaves nothing to the imagination. You can see everything! The other day I happened to cop an eyeful of all 5 left foot toenails of a well-fed woman as I swished passed the freezer section in Coles . I momentarily collapsed and was revived with a box of frozen wonton skins pressed against my ear by a considerate toddler. As I composed myself I noticed the offender had walked through the checkout and was making her way into the wider world. I yelled "HUSSY!" and was asked to leave the store by a little muscly man with a Phantom belt buckle.

Speaking of creeps - I fell into a vortex last week and spent two days playing online Scrabble (except it's not called 'Scrabble' because Uncle Monoply and the Parker Sisters would sue). I kept getting beaten by grandmothers from the mid-west with cryptic usernames like "MidWest Grandmother". It was frustrating beyond belief and drove me to pull the plug on a few matches before they concluded. I sent messages to my competitors like "I WIN" and then quit. I was sinking.

Sinking but not as low as some of the other players. There was a guy called "Milf Lover". It was then I worked out that online scrabble was obviously a front for mid 50's dating and trashed my account. It had nothing to do with my continuous lose lose streak. Place was obvs full of the sickos the television warned me about when the Internet dungeon started.

While eating 'pigs head' terrine and drinking pedro xiemenez I had an epiphany. "Turkish Daggers" is the best name for a band and I invented it. First album "PX I love you" follow up LP; "Prince of Pleasure".  Instant success. Mad cash. 12 figure deal with Toyota.

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