The Floor has Rabies

March 9, 2011

I’m sliding on my arse down the middle of an icy road, when suddenly the surroundings change and I’m then skidding purposely along a foamy shop floor with my mate H. No clue why its foamy, but my god its foamy.

Then I’m in a barbers, the coolest barbers in town, where they have Sky Sports News always blazin’ in the corner, and everyone having their hair cut talks to each other as if they’ve been best mates for years. I wait for fucking ages in the corner of the room, and then wait some more. Eventually, I’m up, only to realise I don’t actually want a haircut. I argue with the barber, who proceeds to not-give-a-shit about anything I’m saying. The cunt then starts shaving the back and sides. Never going there again.

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