When some absolute fucking mutant has made such a odd series of decisions that even his own shadow has packed a
bag and fucked off, usually happens after someone has spent six hours arguing with a bloke called Gary outside a kebab shop about whether pigeons have passports.
A wiggle cock can be identified by the unmistakable walk of a stupid cunt who has forgotten where his legs are supposed to go, one foot'
s heading towards your mums large window hole, the other one's apparently got a fucking job interview in your dads ballsack, and the rest of him is just following along because nobody had the
heart to tell him the plan was shit.
It can also describe the sort of
useless bastard who gets into a taxi, confidently gives the driver an address, then spends twenty minutes staring out the
window before quietly asking, “Wait... where the fuck do I live?”
Another common symptom is suddenly becoming convinced that random household objects are plotting against you. The
toaster is a prick. The kettle's a snitch. The hoover has “been acting
weird lately” You haven't slept properly in three days and you're now threatening a fucking lampshade because it “knows too much"
A particularly severe wiggle cock will attempt to
cook something at 3am, forget about it, wander into the garden holding a
spoon full of demented cum, and return forty minutes later covered in ass with absolutely no explanation whatsoever
