Archive for April 12th, 2006
Three little words that can mean so much, to so many.
Not words I use very often to be honest, at least not until the local off-licence started a delivery service. However, it’s unfortunately becoming popular to say these words when you’re talking to someone you barely know. This is due to one man, and one man alone. Radio 1’s very own Scott Mills. What a complete fucking arsewipe.
Each on-air caller he gets on his show receives a “Love you” from Mills at the end of the brief conversation, purely in the hope that the caller will say it back. Well don’t. Tell the fucking gay-boy to fuck right off. If a complete stranger says ‘I love you’, do you respond in kind? Do you fuck. Unless you’re desperate for a shag of course.
If a man I’d been talking to for 30 seconds told me he loved me, then I’d rip off his arms, see how far I could get my thumbs into his eyes and then strap head phones to his ears with “Back to Bedlam” playing on constant repeat. A punishment I’d planned to reserve solely for kiddy fiddlers. I’d hate him that much. (more…)
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Three little words that can mean so much, to so many.
Not words I use very often to be honest, at least not until the local off-licence started a delivery service. However, it’s unfortunately becoming popular to say these words when you’re talking to someone you barely know. This is due to one man, and one man alone. Radio 1’s very own Scott Mills. What a complete fucking arsewipe.
Each on-air caller he gets on his show receives a “Love you” from Mills at the end of the brief conversation, purely in the hope that the caller will say it back. Well don’t. Tell the fucking gay-boy to fuck right off. If a complete stranger says ‘I love you’, do you respond in kind? Do you fuck. Unless you’re desperate for a shag of course.
If a man I’d been talking to for 30 seconds told me he loved me, then I’d rip off his arms, see how far I could get my thumbs into his eyes and then strap head phones to his ears with “Back to Bedlam” playing on constant repeat. A punishment I’d planned to reserve solely for kiddy fiddlers. I’d hate him that much. (more…)
No tags
