| 36. | Call on me | ||
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Horrible, shitty Dance music that got to number 1, just going to show that the charts are almost dead.
The only reason it got there is because stinking Trendies like to masturbate while watching the sluts on the video. Trendy Bob: "YO! Dat Eric Prydz video is wank fine! My cock iz Hard jus finkin abaht it!!!"
Trendy Fred: "Dat blonde bird is sum wank fine ho....etc,etc..." |
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| 37. | jokus | ||
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A bloody, infected pigeon testicle
plural: jokai "While we were bird watching, we noticed a male pigeon with a jokus."
"Look at that disgusting pile of jokai on the ground, it smells like shit and vomit got together and had a child!" |
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| 38. | duffypression | ||
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' the feeling of losing an all important game due to a lack of confidence and the arrogant overcockyness of an individual(s). This normal reaction to this is to drink one's self in to a state of non-return.
That team the One Arm Bandits thought they had i sown up at the pool competition, that was until the duffypression took hold, then they lost. Duffy then dejected and despondent reach out to his internal emotions and let go at the bar staff with no remorse!
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| 39. | Epiphany | ||
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a term used when describing what you smelled from watching a overweight man dance to techno, or just watching an overweight man dance to techno. holy crap, that was the worst epiphany ever
IT smelled like the colour blue |
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| 40. | jarrimon | ||
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One afflicted with the compulsive need to fill one botard} after the next with none other than his own semen. Exhaustion and dehydration rapidly ensue. It may take days/weeks to fill the botard, and the Jarrimon keeps the bag near body temperature at all times by sitting or sleeping on it... much like a mother bird watching her eggs. Jack hadn't revealed the shame of being a jarrimon to his friends or family fearing their mustrust and ostracism.
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| 41. | tarse | ||
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1) A male falcon
2) Old English slang for the male genitals 1) The tarse is responsible for hunting.
2) You are better off watching and drawing your conclusions from a distance than you would be if I got my tarse up your petticoat. |
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| 42. | Chav Watcher | ||
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Just as Bill Oddie may like to observe his Wood Pecker oscillating in and out of a large hole from time to time, I like to view, from a distance at least, the segregated subgroup of desperate humanity that we like to call Chavs. As if you hadn’t already guessed from my pessimistic drones, I dislike chavs with an unceasing hatred, but at times I find them utterly hilarious. When I can, I often watch the humble and increasingly prevalent migration of the Chavs to their local off-licence, where, with a few pence between them, they manage to rustle up about 10 gallons of finest Aldi own-brand cider, and this, with their vastly theatrical habits, beckons giant amounts of predominantly patronising hilarity.
more...
Even funnier than watching a 13 year old chav trying to buy alcohol is watching a 13 year old chav trying to drink it. Yes, we've all had a couple of under-age beverages, but never to the extent of the Chav. Walking around Peterborough, for instance, at about 3 in the morning, you find yourself confusing the amassed collection of collapsed Chavs with street furniture. My friend, for example, thought that one young fellow was actually a bench, and sat on him. (What I was doing at Peterborough at 3 AM, I'm not entirely sure). Finding a group of Chavs is easy; all you have to do is look in a park. Walk around, and you'll know you've found a chav when he pulls a knife on you and asks if you've got any nail varnish so he can get high off of it. A white tracksuit is a dead... |
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