I swear I was at home with the missus, on the date you mentioned...
So I have court this week.
Flips up his collar and flips off the "man"
Not for my car crash (I still haven't heard anything about that), but for land tax. It's not even a cool crime too pick up chicks with.
Hey babee. I'm wanted for non payments of land tax. How bout some skullduggery in bed?
It has all stemmed from inept council workers, not properly flagging my name. I owed a certain amount of land tax, so I went in to organise a payment plan. All was fine and there was handshakes all around. We did the ol' we should do lunch sometime. Get your people to talk to my people. Anyway the stupid lady there didn't record our agreement properly. Which meant my account was still flagged for full payment of said owed amount. Which means I'm wanted by fumbling upholders of law who need to ask me a couple of questions. 'ang on, ang on sonny, what'z all dis den? (must be read aloud in a thick cockney accent).
My mind has been on this appointment all week. Distracting and stressing me out. It was great to hang out with my friends these last couple of weeks. It's kinda hard to keep your mind on such things when people are asking, nay ordering, you to dance and party.
I.Am.Scared.Shitless.
But in true male brew ha ha, I am loathe to admit it. I don't like asking for help. Other people shouldn't have to be dragged down with me. I've been selling my personal things at an accelerated rate. My fine china collection. My garage full of original mustangs. My lock of Bruce Lee hair (it smells like real kung fu), My original cassette album of Michael Bolton...
It's time for me to go underground. My new tag is Joe Flow Stang, the traveling bogan troubadour, minstrel of the big block V8 masses. Rrrrr Rrrmmmmm indeed
Btw, if I go missing for a couple of months, it means I'm either A) in jail or B) on the run :D If answer is A, please break me out in the exact same way as prison break
Flips up his collar and flips off the "man"
Not for my car crash (I still haven't heard anything about that), but for land tax. It's not even a cool crime too pick up chicks with.
Hey babee. I'm wanted for non payments of land tax. How bout some skullduggery in bed?
It has all stemmed from inept council workers, not properly flagging my name. I owed a certain amount of land tax, so I went in to organise a payment plan. All was fine and there was handshakes all around. We did the ol' we should do lunch sometime. Get your people to talk to my people. Anyway the stupid lady there didn't record our agreement properly. Which meant my account was still flagged for full payment of said owed amount. Which means I'm wanted by fumbling upholders of law who need to ask me a couple of questions. 'ang on, ang on sonny, what'z all dis den? (must be read aloud in a thick cockney accent).
My mind has been on this appointment all week. Distracting and stressing me out. It was great to hang out with my friends these last couple of weeks. It's kinda hard to keep your mind on such things when people are asking, nay ordering, you to dance and party.
I.Am.Scared.Shitless.
But in true male brew ha ha, I am loathe to admit it. I don't like asking for help. Other people shouldn't have to be dragged down with me. I've been selling my personal things at an accelerated rate. My fine china collection. My garage full of original mustangs. My lock of Bruce Lee hair (it smells like real kung fu), My original cassette album of Michael Bolton...
It's time for me to go underground. My new tag is Joe Flow Stang, the traveling bogan troubadour, minstrel of the big block V8 masses. Rrrrr Rrrmmmmm indeed
Btw, if I go missing for a couple of months, it means I'm either A) in jail or B) on the run :D If answer is A, please break me out in the exact same way as prison break
posted by Thaozee at 2:36 AM
2 Comments:
Land rates, not land tax. I am some kind of simpleton
This one time I was in bed with my ex and he starts talking in a cockney accent for some reason. So of course I say the obvious thing being "what are you, some kind of chimney sweep?" which was totally the wrong thing to say, because he spent the next half an hour explaining all the methods he was going to "Clean my ol' chimney, 'e will, 'e will."
This tale is supposed to make you laugh. That being said, it is also true.
[deep breath...there you go.]
Good luck in court kiddo; damn the man, save Thaozee!!
--M
Post a Comment
<< Home