I can't believe how much it's rained in the last few days. I'm pretty sure on Tuesday 'They' will announce "It's been the wettest May bank holiday since 1901", or something.
On a lighter note: Another variation on the "If" Poem.
This time by
Wierdvis
If you can hold your pint when all about you
Are spilling theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can duck your round by blatant cheating,
And shamefully ignore mates protests too,
If you can drink and not be tired of drinking,
Or eating bar snacks, watch out for those pies,
Or talking footie, don't give way to jeering,
If your pals teams suck, that just ain't wise.
If you can skive--and not make work your master,
If you stay dumb--and not make smarts your aim;
If you can live the life of a scumbag waster
And give your kid some daft soap opera name;
If you can beat seven shades out of some loser,
Or twist your Mum's chef's knife in the poor fool,
And watch as your victim lies there bleeding,
And stoop to steal his wallet, coz that's cool!
If you can make one heap of all your thieving
And risk it all on some three legged nag,
Just rough up another old lady, that's the answer
And rob every last brass farthing from her bag.;
If you can force the kids to sell your acid
Your crack cocaine and low grade, home grown grass,
You get 'em hooked so they can do your bidding,
And when they're caught, a death threat will save your ass.
If you chat up young girls and steal their virtue,
Or walk with thugs—just so you look butch,
You act like police and rival gangs can't touch you;
So no violent, criminal excess is too much,
If you can fill your pockets in one minute
With loot from blagging POs. just for fun
You'll eventually get snitched on by a victim,
And--which is more--you'll be banged up, my son!
