Swiss Joe
I'm going to pretend that it didn't take me 10 minutes to locate the 'New Post' button.. even though last time I lost it, I told myself I would definitely remember the next time. It's like when you say to yourself 'I promise I'll get up early tomorrow. Pinky promise. I won't be lazy', and then it's 2pm and you're still in bed..
But anyway, lots of people may sometimes wonder why I'm such a massive dick all the time (by this I mean hilariously funny and generally awesome) - I've now come to the conclusion that I inherited it from my father.
To put this into perspective, I'd like to inform you that he recently grew a beard, then shaved half of it off, the left side if this is important. He told people it was for charity. No no, he later confessed to me that he just wanted to see what it would look like.. He turned up with this 'beard' at my fairly respectable 21st Birthday dinner. I really hope no one gave him money for the 'charity'. Although he did stand outside the restaurant for a while, catching my relatives as they left and handing them a box of knock-off chocolates saying 'Belinda says thanks for coming.' It was funny until he handed me one.
He's the kind of man that sees something dangerous and instantly wants to be involved. About 6 months ago, multiple burglaries were committed in our area, the victims being elderly people. My father decided to take matters into his own hands, by putting up posters around the village and in the newspaper reading 'Come and pick on someone your own size. I'll be in The Flying Horse car park at 1pm on Friday. Bring some friends, there's plenty of pain to go around. Swiss Joe.' Luckily no one actually turned up, and he just stood in the car park with a massive stick for a while muttering German curse words.
There's something I forgot to mention; he's legally disabled so only wears flip flops (except on fancy occasions) and likes to hobble around in T-shirts with either dragons, wolves or naked women on. So you can imagine how amusing this image would be.
My earliest memory of my father is in Switzerland, when he made us climb a mountain. I wish I was joking. It was so cold that when I cried, the tears literally froze to my cheek. I must have been 3. Some would call that child cruelty. In fact on the way to Switzerland, my brother was dangling his hand out of the window loving life, and then Swiss Joe decided to wind up the electric window as a joke. 'Ha ha, window got your hand.' Much like that annoying thing adults do to children, 'ha ha, I got your nose'. No you haven't you prick, that's the end of your thumb.
His hobby at the moment is to drive around, winding down his window when he sees an attractive woman and shouting 'Hey birdy birdy num num!' at them. To be fair that really is amusing, because of his accent and his age. Once though there were two women, and one was a little podgy. He decided it would be acceptable to shout 'I'll take the one in purple, only in a smaller size!!'
I'm sure this clears up a lot of issues about my personality.
But anyway, lots of people may sometimes wonder why I'm such a massive dick all the time (by this I mean hilariously funny and generally awesome) - I've now come to the conclusion that I inherited it from my father.
To put this into perspective, I'd like to inform you that he recently grew a beard, then shaved half of it off, the left side if this is important. He told people it was for charity. No no, he later confessed to me that he just wanted to see what it would look like.. He turned up with this 'beard' at my fairly respectable 21st Birthday dinner. I really hope no one gave him money for the 'charity'. Although he did stand outside the restaurant for a while, catching my relatives as they left and handing them a box of knock-off chocolates saying 'Belinda says thanks for coming.' It was funny until he handed me one.
He's the kind of man that sees something dangerous and instantly wants to be involved. About 6 months ago, multiple burglaries were committed in our area, the victims being elderly people. My father decided to take matters into his own hands, by putting up posters around the village and in the newspaper reading 'Come and pick on someone your own size. I'll be in The Flying Horse car park at 1pm on Friday. Bring some friends, there's plenty of pain to go around. Swiss Joe.' Luckily no one actually turned up, and he just stood in the car park with a massive stick for a while muttering German curse words.
There's something I forgot to mention; he's legally disabled so only wears flip flops (except on fancy occasions) and likes to hobble around in T-shirts with either dragons, wolves or naked women on. So you can imagine how amusing this image would be.
My earliest memory of my father is in Switzerland, when he made us climb a mountain. I wish I was joking. It was so cold that when I cried, the tears literally froze to my cheek. I must have been 3. Some would call that child cruelty. In fact on the way to Switzerland, my brother was dangling his hand out of the window loving life, and then Swiss Joe decided to wind up the electric window as a joke. 'Ha ha, window got your hand.' Much like that annoying thing adults do to children, 'ha ha, I got your nose'. No you haven't you prick, that's the end of your thumb.
His hobby at the moment is to drive around, winding down his window when he sees an attractive woman and shouting 'Hey birdy birdy num num!' at them. To be fair that really is amusing, because of his accent and his age. Once though there were two women, and one was a little podgy. He decided it would be acceptable to shout 'I'll take the one in purple, only in a smaller size!!'
I'm sure this clears up a lot of issues about my personality.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home