Have you noticed when your walking out of a stadium at a concert or a football match you only take one step at a time? You never just walk down the stairs and get out, you go down as if your 3 years old. It means that you’re in the fucking stadium for ages. I mean you don’t walk down the fucking stairs at home like that do you? When the doorbell rings you don’t take one step at a time, and then when it rings again you never shout “hold on I’m just coming. I’ve got to take one step at a time though in case I go down them too quick and my legs snap”. By the time you reach the bottom the postmans fucked off with your pint of milk which you couldn’t collect earlier because it took you too long to reach the door and by the time you got to the bottom the milkman had already shagged your wife and gone. Have you noticed the postman leaves you a card now though that says you can’t collect your parcel unless you bring I.D. What do I need to prove its me? If you posted the card through the wrong fucking door then I would need to prove that but that only happens if the postman is a complete cunt and got lost. Talking about getting lost I don’t understand these new sat navs. Why the fuck do they have female voices? They get lost in a fucking supermarket car park let alone driving through the Mersey tunnel. Why would I ever take directions from a woman? “After 500 yards check your make up and push up your cleavage.” “Turn left at top shop and take note of the floral dress in the window.” It just shouldn’t work should it? What is it with girls and shopping though? They never actually buy anything, they just try everything on. How is that fun? It’s like going to a restaurant sniffing everything and then fucking off home without eating. But nowadays with all these new diets its probably best that you sniff the food rather than eating it. I mean everyone looks after their weight nowadays. Look at that woman on channel 4 who goes as far as shitting in a tupaware tub and examining it. Gillian Mckeith i think her name is. It's Mr Mckeith i feel sorry for because everytime he opens his lunch box at work he's thinking is this the box my wife shit in the other day or is it the one that had that half can of baked beans in?