Susan Hated Literature

I was going to blog about this little, but very irritating, cut I have on my lip. But it is my own fault as I have a habit of biting my mouth, but then I decided not to, as there is a far greater irritant in my life at the moment.

You know who I am talking about; The Blunt.

Remember, I gave out about that assault on my ears and brain You’re beautiful last year?
And that was many, many months ago. Yet he is still with us. Wailing and moaning about yer wan on the tube. But even worse, he has other songs. Other whines to try and make me give in. But I shall fight on, against this trite. I shall not be overcome.

Goodbye my lover?!
Ha. I wish it was Goodbye you loser.

I’m so hollow, baby, I’m so hollow.
I’m so, I’m so, I’m so hollow.
I’m so hollow, baby, I’m so hollow.
I’m so, I’m so, I’m so hollow

I bloody well know you are hollow you arse. Hollow and shallow and meaningless and whiny and killing me slowly with those excuses for songs that keep spewing forth.

Will you be my shoulder when I’m grey and older?

Will you stop singing so I can turn on the radio without dread?

But the problem now is that it isn’t just the radio. He has an advert on the telly for his “live shite”.

Look here Blunt, I’ve had enough. Shut-up. Get out of my hearing, get out of my sight.

I’m a puppet on a string.
I just need this stage to be seen.

Well, yes. Yes you are. So can I snip the strings and have you collapse?

I’ve become a bad player in two weeks according to a lot of people but there’s not much I can do about Saturday’s game now

Poor Geordan. Don’t worry, we forgive you. And more importantly we all know you aren’t a bad player. Yes you made a mistake or two, but we still think you’re great.

To spare the rugby-phobes there is more, but I’ve hidden it under the cut. So I have.

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