Revised June 2015 to meet current guidelines
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“Al, you can’t hang pedophiles up by their bollocks.” I told him. “You don’t fancy me then?” he says, “Thirty quid?”
“Fuck no!” I says, “No we’re going to get Sandra knocked up so we can get a council house.”
“That’s fucking sad is that,” Jacko says as he stoops there ass in the air and his head ankles and wrists through these wood planks, all secured by a padlock, “I want to make something of myself.”
I left the pillock to his delusions and snuck downstairs, there was nobody about so I slunk away I figured Al would be ok one way or another. Porn “Right, thanks,” I said, “For nowt!” and I stormed off out, fucking BNP for christs sake, load of morons, spiky haired thugs, I knew they met in the Flying Pig on Rosamund street so I went straight round. “I fancy being a Councillor,” I said, and I had a few more jars and I must have signed something because next thing I knew this bloody letter arrived at home saying I was their official candidate for the Warmsby ward of
