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11:05 p.m. - 2001-10-15
British/German Scum Attack
Today, I was walking down the street like a plotzer, when I ran across a thick hack-face named Irving. "Why are you being such a plotzer?" he asked. "I've been bombing around all evening," I said.
To be straight, Irving was being a real Johnny No-Stars. I was trying to be a happy chappie, but then he reminded me about the party at Klaus' house last Friday, and how Klaus' sister had been such a humpty. "I thought she was a real slapper," I said. "Another session like that and I'll need a time-out."
There were a lot of anklebiters at Klaus' party, it's true, but at least they didn't bend my ear like a stubbie.
He kept bending my ear for about ten minutes, until I finally told him that I didn't give a toss about Klaus' rugrats and twat mates.
"The gang's hanging out at Mickey D's again tonight? Want to come smoke some fags with us?" Irving asked.
It was nice of the screamer to grok me up, but I was totally easy-peasy. He was two sandwiches short of a picnic, and it did my head in the way he gibbered on!
"I have to go rock the bog, bum-boy, before I start shitting teeth" I said to Irving finally. I hopped in my cool wheels, and tried to keep my bollocks out of Irving's sight, knowing full well that the scatty-yatty would go for the paltzy horn attack.
He was a real shirt-lifter at Klaus' party too.
Irving can be a real muppet when he wants to be, just like the spaced-out guys at the Love Parade, but at least the plonks at Mickey D's don't get me legless when they dish me.*
* Actual German slang (translated into British slang)
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