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Some Sweet Violent Urge

Over the last four years the English Bard of Nay-sayage that is Punched Monkey has noticed a change in his personality. This has gotten steadily worse, especially since learning to drive and having his marriage breakdown (Monkey broke it to be fair so no whining will ensue on this topic).
I have however noticed this penchant towards intense anger and violent impatience in the general populace, not just myself, in recent times as the Inhuman Race continues it’s inevitable lurch towards it’s eventual and long overdue doom.

The people next door have two dogs.

These fucking dogs are a constant source of irritation fuelled anger to me. This anger threatens to become homicidal rage, very soon.

The fuckers have a small mutt named Sally, harmless enough on its own, but then they’ve adopted some skud-bottom shit stray off of the streets – a white racing dog, a whippet named Heidi.

Heidi – FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

What a stupid fucking name for a dog!. Anyway these mutts howl like frigging banshees every single solitary time the bastards leave the house, which is about twenty times a day, every day – without fail. I swear to God, these fucks have ants in their pants or some shit. They come in, they go out straight away, they come in again, go out again. They also come and go at all hours of the fucking day and night, thus setting the hounds off like a burglar alarm. These dogs have separation-anxiety and they howl non-stop. They never get tired, never get out of breath.

I work earlies for the UK postal service (as many of you familiar with my rantings know). Is a little nap in the afternoon too much to fucking ask? – apparently so!

I tell you, I have never wanted to do two animals more harm in my life. Now I love dogs, don’t get me wrong. Have even owned two German Shepherds in my time, but these Mongeloid (Tarantino for Fucknut) mutts next door? I have entertained fantasies of poisoning, staking, even blasting the fucking door off it’s hinges with an assault shotgun and blowing the fucking things all over the passageway, just for some peace and quiet.

After many years of putting up with this crap we’ve now reported them to the local authorities for being shit neighbours. Why do people have to be threatened before they take their heads out of their fucking arses (that’s English for ass, boys and girls) and smell the shit they’re shovelling, huh?

For the record, other things I take personally in my sink into desperate paranoia are:

  • The weather.
  • Other retarded motorists, whom I ALWAYS seem to get stuck behind.
  • The sheer nitwits you get in front of you at the checkout line in the store
  • Kids playing noisily in the street and disturbing my sleep or my webcam happy time (and no – it’s not naked, thrashing my man-meat happy time either, you bunch of dirty minded deviants!)
  • The Atlantic Ocean and the State of Michigan.
  • Not finding what I want in the stores when I have money, and seeing loads of stuff I want when I’m broke is also a guaranteed pisser!

TO BE CONTINUED…

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