I favour you with my wisdom

Cider and red wine paired of an eve will give you a terrible bastard behind the eyes. You are thus informed.

After a long, dramatic pause, a roaring drunk Irishman gave me this advice recently, "Brewski. Invest in wigs. They'll never goway". Fucking tool.

A pair of cork-soled, strappy shoes on a woman turns me right on, and I have no idea why. Neither have I any inkling why I should divulge such information to you. Case closed.

Here is another fatuous sentence that means fuck all while I try to think of something that enrages the fuck out of me. As that twat Eminem sings, "I just rhymed a whole song and didn't say shit".

I have it! Guns! Fuck guns. I have a suspicion that if I ever held a loaded gun, I would experience something akin to the inexplicable feeling I get if I am near the edge of a cliff or other high point; namely to take a running jump off the fucking thing. However, holding a loaded gun this feeling would manifest itself in a juicy desire to shoot someone through the back of the knee. Then with slitted eyes deftly unscrew the silencer and flit like a shadow through the billowing bay window curtains. I tell you what, getting kneecapped must fucking suck. And what causes those shattered patellas? That's right: guns. Fuck 'em. And some of those shots took Kennedy out from the FRONT you cunts.

Also: sewing machines. They are rank. With that pedal and shit. They want to hurt you. You can tell from the sound they make when the pedal is operated, the noise is like, "Ah....now.....I'm coursingwithelectricityandmyfuckingneedlegoingimpossiblyfastwill fuckingbiteyoucomeherecomehereyoucuntIwillfuckyouup......". Stephen King should address this in a short story the spooky cunt.

Beck's bottled beer is shithouse. They're too small you stingy German fucks. Let's be 'avin the Grolsch steez, but without those stupid ceramic stoppers. I also have a penchant for thick-stemmed wine glasses, but who gives a flying fuck about that?

And who the fuck thought up the name 'Chichester'. Is that not a fucking ridiculous name for a city? Chichester. Christ.

Having said that, there is a tube station in London called 'Mudchute'. I kid you fucking not.

And with orgasmic crescendo, I give you this: roasted peanuts rock. And pistachios are also triumphant. As is performing cunnilingus on your sexy babe. Go on life, you cheeky cunt you.

Sirrah!

"Why me?" One of Shane Macgowan's teeth.