O’Peesha – When we had the shop, we used to dread Thursdays. So many fucking dribbling buffoons and windowlickers used to plague us in there:- its obscene.
This old bloke used to come in every Thursday and dance around like a marionette- you know, like someone was pulling his strings from upstairs. He’d just walk in and start to dance and shout: “Doe!” “Doe!” -For about twenty minutes.
Git – Indeed I was myself tricked into menial shop duty on a Thursday. A smelly chap came in and asked me to play him a record: “Through the big speakers!”
“These, my dear chap, are filing cabinets.” I responded. I flicked the radio on, and he started to dance. To an interview with Kenny Dalglish.
ƒ A D E G
Its thirty foot long and it stinks of piss, sores and scabs all over it
Its rude, its wrinkled, its veins are blue,
Its the Thursday morning pension queue
Senile retards out for a drive, you’re stuck behind a Lada for miles
They drool, they dribble, they cough, they wheeze,
They make you queue for hours at Sainsbury’s
Fuck off down the post office, if you’re handicapped
Village idiot competition for mutants, geeks and spacks
Hobbling, wobbling, doddering, slobbering, stammering, staggering fools.
Dunces, dullards, demented dimwits, imbeciles, buffoons.
Shuffling halfwits interbred, simpletons with mis-shaped heads, rotting fossils, decomposing,
Ninnies with no teeth.
Wronglybuilts, grinning, gurning, incontinents and freaks.
©1993 The Macc Lads
N.B.- Ladas – Old persons’ cars, powered by a rubber bands, only appear when you’re in a hurry.
They’re driven by people who wear hats in the car, and eat picnics in lay-bys of busy dual carriageways.
N.B.- Sainsbury’s – A supermarket on Cumberland St.
It has an uneven, muddy carpark built on a steep gradient- (hence a preponderance of
Jeeps, Range Rovers, and other 4 -wheel drive vehicles parked therein).