Look at this big ol’ berk here:
Look at his massive face. Why does anyone need a face that big? What has he done to his face to make it that big? All of these questions need answering and the sad fact that it is unlikely that we will ever get the responses we need.
The worst part about knowing Chris is that he’s always calling on a regular basis asking how I am and letting me tell him all my problems. There I am, trying to sit in my puddle of self pity, and he’s on the phone for about an hour trying to cheer me up. That’s the worst, it really is, however it gets worse than that. There have been times when he has not only encouraged my questionable behaviour but he has also actively joined in, such as the time that we both wrote letters to each other and did it in weird, wonderful ways. I still have most of them in a box somewhere. The most enduring, and awkward, of the letters was the one written on one continuous single line of paper that stretches on for what seems like miles. I’m struggling for space as it is and to have to find somewhere for this is just plain selfish.
I mean I am done with all of this. There is only so much that one person can take and really I have reached my limit. I hope that he is taking note of all of this because it is very personal and I mean every vicious, scalding word of it. You can take your pleasant, jolly attitude and your helpful, endearing friendship and you can shove it right up the puffin pipe.
You utter wanker.
21 comments on “Tributes and Insults – Christopher Marshall”
This guy sounds like one voley motherfucker. But – and I’ll say this much – it’s good that you have two friends, so that you can talk about them in quick succession and thus reach your bean target for this month.
I learned from the best. Stretch that mother out and reap the rewards.
For your information my puffin pipe has been blocked for several weeks now and I need to take it to the mender’s, so right now I am unable to stuff anything up it.
You may want to get that checked by the doctors. A blocked puffin pipe can lead to coughing, wheezing and ultimately puffing.
If getting it cleared out is only going to be a prelude to you stuffing my friendship up it, I might leave it blocked for a bit longer, at least until you get your chude under control.
My chude is fresh, so fresh it’s opening a fruit and veg stall.
Take it to John Menzies and get it checked.
A new fruit and veg shop just opened in Royksopp near www.Comb. Is that your chude’s place?
Yeah that’s me. I’m creeping up on you like a wounded badger. I’m selling tasty apples and watching you as you walk to work (what?)
No wounded badger ever sold me an apple. But I once haggled with a bruised otter for some lychees.
You live an interesting and varied life, sir, what with all your sofa, otter and lychee stories.
I do indeed. Wait until I tell you the one about the slack sack of lube tubes! You’ll laugh until you literally stop.
That’s nice alliteration about a somewhat shady and disturbing topic. Superb juxtaposition
Very sad it was big word day and I did not take part. Now is short word day where you can just use words of one syl… comp… part.
Tragic. Moored. Saloon. Monkey.
That’s… it… what?
Come on. There’s nothing to work with there. What do you want from me?
Okay, tell me about lube tubes.
Do I still have to use small words?
No, short word day is over. Besides, “tragic”, “saloon”, “monkey”, “okay” and “about” all have two syllables, so you’ve blown that clean out of the water already.
Two silly balls?
No. You’re getting mixed up. Kev has two silly balls.
Don’t call his kids that! And it’s one silly orb and one silly child, owl have shrew know!
Sorry. I was actually referring to his testicles.