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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Smootch My Snootch # 3...[I think]

Because I would haaate to have anyONE saay I was slipping in the Smootch My Snootch department I give you the following…[psst good to read you back Lady!]

To the stupid woman at the checkout who allowed her spawn to ding her in the head with a box of poptarts when she said he couldn’t have one. Not like he was walking out of the store with a brand new bicycle…then again it was like that. He was actually walking out of the store with a brand new bicycle. Red it was.

Which would have been the colour of my fucking face once I got dealing with THAT little ungrateful fuck. In my bloody daaay that woulda earned me an arsebeating to my BadGrannies State and back.

What did the Mom do, you ask?

I know some of yers did…others KNOW what she fuckingwell did.

AbSOOlutely bloody nothun.

I understand him not getting the beating…only because of the reportage of it and all that dealing with the CSI stuff, oh hang on, no I mean CPS stuff. But *insert redneck voice* Boiy I woulda thrown it under the next passing Chevy truck, or at least taken it back in and got my money back.It being the bike not the brat.

That stupid cow gets to pucker up and Smootch a big fat one on the magnificent all over, rather large black woman wearing the canary yellow strapless terry-towelling sundress at the Chinese Buffet place in Newport…[where we went for our 5th year anniversary dinner yesterday]...yes HER Snootch.

Yeah Smootch it StupidArse Mother of the Universe. You are bestowing on the rest of us a really really great gift. Another spoilt, fucked up human.

Yes. YaaaY to You!

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 2:31 pm :: 19 comments

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Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Smootch My Snootch! [#2]

Much gratitude for handing over the pee jar so quickly the other day week. I mean you could have held me there with that all important task of getting a persons details and particulars for those pesky forms that just won't wait to be filled out. Oh wait on a minute, that's what you did do. I dunno, maybe here's a clue for yers the next time. If the person in front of you looks like they are swaying from side to side and bobbing up and down. There's a bloody good chance that person is not, I repeat, not, reliving their grooving moves at their first school social. Yes, I knoow they are stepping from foot to foot, but just like a little heathen, it usually means they have reaally. got. to. bloodywell. goooo.

Taah fer doing yer utmost best to clear my lungs of all their muck by exploding the shrivelled old pair of buggers. I mean if it weren't for you both, I would have only walked up and then down that mighty steep hill, the once. But no, both of you's must have thought. By jove, now here's a person that needs to lose some of their wobbly bits. Hence the forgetting to give me my form for the pathologist to sign. I knoow youse didn't realise that I do so hate to stagger up the same hill twice.

Yes, Thanks again to the pair of you's for making me pass that special person selling those special pens, not once, but twice. Fer crying out loud she was special, I had to buy two of them bloody rip off pens. They are fine points, I don't like that in a pen. And black ink as well. Blerhh. If I didn't have to walk up that second time I may just have missed out on being hounded by that partially deaf person shouting at me for a donation. Wheezing out "Bugger Off! I gave last time" doesn't have the same effect as being able to hiss it out. Let alone having the energy to raise my hands high enough to thrust my ticket receipt under their pointy little nose, whilst stabbing them in their beady little eyes with my fine-point pens.

Oh and bless yer little cotton socks in yer ability to give the most excellent directions. But, perhaps telling your patients that the entry into the Posh Hotel's parking lot is on the other side of the block. Yes, you knooow, that parking lot that you can use yer smart looking stamp on, therefore validating the ticket where it only costs your patients five bucks.

I love you both! Yer's made me feel so good about being me. No truly, you both did. Not every day I get to see who I don't want to grow up to be like. The day I don't show my smiley lines is the day I become like you pair. Two bitter twisted up hags; matron hag and her younger hag in training.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 6:09 am :: 15 comments

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Saturday, January 27, 2007

Smootch my Snootch!

I've decided that title is gunna signify my FOAD episodes in life, those moments or people that don't really deserve a death directive but pretty close to it.

Was tossing up the title, FUAD, until I read the classic "Smootch my Snootch" from the bloody funny thing writing Whiplash Smile and thought AHA! now that's what I'll use....she doeth make soapeths toeth.

And yes I don't really want them to smootch my snootch as in, put their lubra lips to my labian one's.

Now that I have laid full claim to this version of the title, the acknowledgements have been made I will continue on to the first person who can just Smootch my Snootch.

Hey You! the retarded [I will hide him as] SC and yer FC of a she-bitch, thee who has had a right good whack to the face with the ugly and skanky stick, them the fucked-up, retarded neighbours one street over.

I spit on these people. And I would pee on them too! using borrowed urine from a cat or dog...after they have "milked" it for me with their mouths first.

I was outside in the dead of night the other evening, enjoying the cooling breeze, sucking on a fag pleasantly watching the nightscape, picking out the "pot" and our Southern Cross in the stars. When the FC started screeching and shrieking, intruding on my serenity now moment.

Why can they smootch my snootch, exactly?

Because she was so fucked up on the grog. I couldn't understand one bloody word of what she screeched. I mean if ye are gunna decide to be the weekly entertainment [and also available sometimes for weekend performances] at least do it so I can freaking hear and therefore know what's going on.

Pair of snatchfaces.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 12:45 am :: 19 comments

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