Yo Yo!! Ja’Crispy here. I’m taking over this sh*t again.
My forehead is almost touching the keypad now as I am, again, falling asleep. The crazy human (I am going to start calling her the craziest human, ever) woke up at 6.45 am. But that wasn’t it. My bro, who I thought was cool (I guess craziness can be transmitted) woke up at 6.15 am. What?! I was midway my dream about flying beef bones (I was biting them so hard that one of my baby teeth fell out; woke up with it hanging in my beard) and I had to go outside! It was freezing cold (even my balls got frozen), I couldn’t even take a piss as my weenie was afraid to pop out. Oh, and what about going for number two? Damn, even my ass was cold. It wasn’t going for it but then I farted and it all came out. My apologies for talking about my bowel movements but it was the highlight of my morning. “Why?” you might ask. Because as soon as it all came out my bro took me home and I got to defrost my balls and have a nice breakfast.
Then I thought I was going to sleep. But no. The crazy human had to have the plumbers in today. I was so pissed off that I did my scary look aka look number thirty-three. I have many looks, believe me. Now I have look number seventy-four on, the Rodin’s “The Thinker” look. One has to look the part. I even have my glasses on. The chicks dig this intellectual flare on me. It goes well with my moustache.
The crazy human had to leave for a workshop so some quiet time for me and my bro. I hope she went on a retreat. Like somewhere in Australia perhaps. That’s far away, isn’t it? But it could be a pain in the ass as she would want to do Skype calls and those would be at crazy hours. Well, Liverpool Street is far away for me today. Now it’s time to head to the sofa with my bro and watch the Ellen show and eat some crisps and a cold beer. Yep, that’s heaven for me and my bro. No crazy human around to boss us. Keli’s “Bossy” is her song if you haven’t noticed yet. Always on replay in our karaoke sessions. Bought some ear plugs. They work.
Need to go and comfort May as she has to deal with Parliament now. She wasn’t happy when we talked yesterday. A lot of swearing around but I got to comfort her and told her to buy some new shoes. She liked the idea. You feminists don’t come barking at my door. I would do the same comment if it was David Cameron, but in his case, he has poor fashion taste. Thank God for Samantha.
Over and out.