Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Mr Sex: Friend of a Friend of an Unbelievable Shag-Rat
Conversation I had the other day with someone I sort of know, in the pub, at dinnertime, after asked him what he did last Friday (in the charmingly lilting Nottingham accent, for authenticity's sake);
(Him) "Yeah, I was gunnu come up your way for a pint, but me mate worn't up for it. Soz mate"
(Me) "Ah, shame, man. it wor a good night"
"Yeah, ah tode him all the pubs were good up your way, but he said "Fook gooin' up there. I want to goo ter taahn to talk to some slags". So we ended up gooin' to the usual taahnie shitholes"
"Ah man, that's rank"
"Ah, don't set me off, mate. He's a fookin' shagrat, 'im. All he's bothered abaaht is the fanneh. He'll get 'is leg ovver owt, 'im"
"Shitting hell, I know a few people like that"
"Norr as bad as 'im, mate. He spends all his money on getting kitted aht, and before he comes aht, he 'as a wank, so he can keep going longer if he cops off wi' 'owt. And then he won't have a pint, in case he can't gerra bonk-on. And he chats up owt. All fucking night. Relentless. And if he can't get his end away, he's 'ad a shit night."
"Fucking 'ell. That's one lad who really teks his Friday nights serious"
"Well, it's the only time his missus let's him aht, in't it?"