No no, no no no no, no no no no, no no there ARE limits!!

I reached mine today, my limit approached as fast as a British Islamist freedom fighter  can run from the IS fun police! If you get offended by swear words, racism, sexism, In fact anything, DONT read this! Take it off your screen and have a lovely day. If you are easily offended and STILL read it, then that’s your fault (you have been warned) if you are easily offended STILL read it then see me on the street, don’t you dare come up to me and shove YOUR opinions down my throat! I won’t be able to get you off my screen but I will cut you! 

  
The metrocentre seemed like a good idea when I woke up this morning, probably get a present or two, maybe even spurge on getting my own too! The approach roads were ominously quiet, the traffic rather subdued for a Saturday, the first Saturday of the Christmas rush! FUCK! Not to worry, the flow was good, the drivers being thoughtful and courteous, it was going well. That was my rabbit in the headlight moment! Of course the approach roads were clear, every cunting car in the Northern fucking hemisphere was gridlocked inside the rabbit warren of the fucking carpark! Looking ahead I saw the bright orange luminous jackets of the ‘into’ carpark wankers! They were making a total abortion out of an easy job! I swear one fat cunt laughed and walked away once the flow had reached its final state of entropy. 

 
As the traffic solidified into one conflagration of shite, I realised the err of my ways! ‘Fuck this! I’ll stab some twat’, my intent was to go to one shop, maybe two, keep my head down, ignore the world and make eye contact with no one! I found a parking space in the car wash part of downstairs and asked how much? In his bestest fucking Romanian ‘I Vant To Bite Your Finger’ accent he said eight quid! Not bad I thought, parked for an hour or two AND a valet! Then he said there was a five hour wait!!!! Fucking five hour? I’m sure when he gives his benefit stealing extended fucking family a call he could have all those cars cleaned (AND CLONED) again ‘Fuck that’ I had visions of handing me keys over, coming out of the shopping centre after half an hour and having these cunts try to keep me carpets OR charge me 8 quid! I fucked off.

  The pictures don’t do justice to the crowds! I had to find places where kids weren’t screaming for chocolate or pasties or toys or whatever the little fucks scream for these days! Old bastards with no concept of time, speed OR distance clogging up the arteries of the mall. Rotund (you know what I mean) fat families straddling the wide aisles like a fucking tsunami towards the restaurant ares, (guys and girls, Lycra suits a certain type of figure! NOT YOURS) gay boys, fag hags, school shites, fucking cadets too! The world was congregating on Gateshead today, it looked like the poxyclips was starting (I held my breath a few times and closed my eyes) my stress level was on the rise! (Much like some of the kids cholesterol levels, if you listened close, you could actually hear the fat cells eating each other) 

  
Kids waiting to sit on peodo Santas knee, fathers waiting outside clothes shops while their wives/ girlfriends/ fuck buddies bleed their wallets dry. Gaggles of girls all looking the fucking same (the usual long straight hair, flat makeup and black ripped skinny jeans, fuck individuality) granny’s shoving pushchairs while their offspring spend spend spend (their inheritance) groups of bearded, quiffed, tattooed guys hanging around trying to look cool as fuck! I lasted ten minutes! The shop I wanted and the item a required had been put up in price by about ten percent ‘just this morning’ I was informed, what a fucking shock! So that was it. My level reached, my safety  trigger off and my finger on the button, like a pop group in the nineties, I was ready to blow!

 


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