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Friday, 6 September 2013

Fancy Dress

I have met a lot of people in my time and let me tell you straight up; You are all awful. Like really, really awful. You are the reason I live on my own and you are the reason I drink. That being said there is a sure fire way to make you even worse and that is to put you in fancy dress. Fuck you, you fucking kook.

Some prick once said ‘sarcasm is the lowest form of wit’ – They were completely wrong. The lowest form of wit is you dressed as a kangaroo. Or a zombie. Or a nurse. Or fucking Lady Gaga.

Hold on a minute… Are you telling me you went to a party dressed as Lady Gaga? Really?? I mean you, a male, dressed as a FEMALE celebrity?! You’re blowing my mind… Hold on, you didn’t have a lightning bolt painted on your face did you? You did?!! Holy shit man, YOU are a fucking funny guy and not at all a cunt.  

Being in fancy dress is like shitting on your hands and clapping.

Shitting? Fine.
Clapping? Fine.
Shitting on your hands? Weird, but fine.
Shitting on your hands and clapping? Why the fuck would you do that? I’m stood right next to you. You’ve sprayed faeces on me and you’re getting it everywhere. Your once private act has now left you and everyone around you covered in shit.

Likewise, when you leave the house dressed as Charlie Chaplin you’re basically covering everyone you come into contact with, in your own filth.

Leaving the house? Fine.
Seeing your friends? Fine.
Leaving the house dressed as a wookie? No need. Fuck your life.

Trust me, no matter how hilarious you think you look dressed up as a pirate – You are NOT funny. When you and your friends enter a pub and wave your plastic swords in peoples face – You are NOT funny. When you stand up and loudly announce that you are going to the ‘barrrggghh’ – You are NOT funny. No-one in the room is thinking ‘Jesus those guys are having a great time’ they are thinking ‘Fuck I hope that guy dies’ You are covering yourself and everyone around you in metaphorical shit.

When you run down the high street dressed as the 118 men and shout ‘I’ve got your number!’ at the people you pass by – You are bringing yourself, and everyone around you, down. People aren’t thinking ‘Those guys are class’ they’re thinking ‘I’ve just brought I kid into this world… What the fuck was I thinking?!’

You are the lowest of the low and I find your very existence abhorrent. So if you’re planning on wearing fancy dress this weekend, come find me. I’ve got a bowel-full of shit with your name on it.