Day 100: The Final Rant

I tried to keep it light throughout my #100Unhappydays but for #day100 I’ve decided to rant. So strap yourselves in and pray you’re not mentioned.

Grey chest hairs. Cold Callers. Hot Callers. In fact any callers, I’m x-directory for a reason mutha fucka. Jocks moaning that we’re allowing them a vote – we colonised you so be a bit grateful you dour old gits. People that can’t queue, if you can’t do it properly then go somewhere less popular. Fuck you Alzheimer’s, I hate you the most, but for reasons I can’t remember. High iron levels – a bloody pain. Tottenham – be it Hotspur, High Road or History. Writers block, cheese and One Direction. 270 miles door to door – way too far. Being asked what #day it is for 100 days. Weekend drivers, someone please give me a gun. Squirrels, grey not red. The Daily Fail. China – cups not country. Never ending stories and The NeverEnding Story. Slow walking, three abreast ‘I don’t care if you have somewhere to go’ Slummy Mummys. Michael McIntyre’s hair. Making lists.