I really let myself down last night at Fruity night at Leeds Uni. First of all I went out meaning its out of the norm for me to go out. Then I forgot my half decent bench top and leather jacket meaning after the game has finished I’d have to strut my stuff in a England top that is more worn out than Russell Brands winkle.
Anyways most of the night I was my typical self sitting in the corner drinking Tetley’s dreaming up new ideas for myself. But a bit later on I got off my high horse. One half hour I spent dancing with half a dozen lasses. Strange lads were calling me a pimp (what’s one of them?) and I’ve not got any money missing meaning it wasn’t a smart operation to part my wallet from my pocket. Got half a dozen photo taken with them and a lass even offered me a drink.
The only thing I regretted is when my hand slipped on this lasses Brest when I went to put my hand on her shoulder - she had such a small frame for a shoulder and my hands are like five German sausages sawn onto each of them. Kind of inspired me to write this unfinished song -
Valentines Vampire
My hands are the Fangs
Biting on that lasses chest
That come popping out of her vest..
But yeah everyone wanted to know my secret and the secret is: How Sad Can You Get?
Wheels wrote:I wish I'd gone to Stylus last night now...
Don’t think I’ll do rugby and night out again.
Terrible luck happened at the rugby as well. If I went with my old man instead of my mate I could have been in a box to apparently free booze all night.
Why are we giving these two more publicity, where is the social services, Typical scum fan breeding here - its shameless, - how much are they getting paid from the papers - and are they being paid in sweets, cigs or nappies??
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