y'know....that girl i make the boring threads about

the beautiful truth reared it's irony shaped head last night when a former colleague casually broke the news of my tasks sorry, soggy futility....news that i got to gulp down just after it became clear that she wasn't coming to the club.

'you asked thingy out didn't ya?'

'yeah...how'd you know?'

'she showed me the txt...she wasn't sure if you were joking or not'

'oh right. so....what's the deal?.....she keeps pissing me about...she like me or not?'

'dunno. i do know she's seeing a policeman though'

wha?

a copper?.....a bleeding pork pie wizard?..... ..
a fucking baton-thwacking bacon-brewing sausage-hopping cop-chop?

hello cruel irony...come give me a cuddle

the dirty small town girl...the chick from the other side of town...the gritty badlands underbelly broad...the mellors to my connie...the tough as nails chalk to my poncy stinkin brie....the girl i felt too spit-spot shiny simon for...

she's going out with a fucking law keeper!!!111!!!1

i didn't stand a chance. he's bound to be tall for starters. he's the brave noble glue that binds society....i sit in the garden all day sniffing pritt-stick.

he gets to kick the shit out of immigrants for free and then whine about how policing just gets bogged down in paperwork nowadays...i take a day to consider whether a vest will be a good life choice

what a fucking shambles. never stood a chance.

her loss though. i had high hopes for that dynamic....we were gonna make out like a springsteen song...kick the dust on this town and chase the sunset.....you can't be a springsteen song dating a po-po...you just can't.

so....back.to.square.one.....lovely relaible ole square one. y'know where you stand with square one....square one shoots straight dice.

stone me.