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Chocolate Covered Bananas: April 2005

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Tuesday, April 19, 2005. I've fucking gone and moved. Thursday, April 14, 2005. I have created my own super-scientific cure based on osmosis for all infectious diseases. Now give me a fucking patent and a million billion trillion pounds for my genius,. Wednesday, April 13, 2005. Dear The Countryside,. Dear The Countryside,. Tuesday, April 12, 2005. Dear My Colonoscopy,. Dear My Colonoscopy,. Things you don’t want to hear as you slip into sedation:. 8220;Is this the clean camera? God Bless the NHS,. I don...

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: November 2004

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Tuesday, November 23, 2004. Dear tea-thieving tea thieves (pt 2),. Dear Tea-Thieving Tea Thieves (pt 2),. I noticed that you've now decided to eat my cranberries and my gluten-free bread. Accordingly, you are now also eating my pubic hair. Dear Chris Evans,. I saw you taking that morning-after walk of shame. You are obviously stalking me and want to be my babydaddy. You ging twat loser. PS On second thought, please be my babydaddy. Munky wants more shoes. Dear The Pope,. Dear The Pope,. Dear My Tapeworm,.

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: Dear Jet-Lag,

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Wednesday, April 06, 2005. From here forward, I shall refer to you as ‘Simon’, as I’ve never encountered a likeable Simon. Parents must pick up their bouncing baby boys and, upon noticing the cunt-eyed cuntery visible even shortly after birth, name their child suitably – Simon. But I digress. Worst of all, Simon makes you write nonsensical shit like this. Simon, I shake my feeble Simon-ed fist at you. Fuck me I’m tired,. Reinventing the lost fucking art of letter writing. Dear The Countryside,. Steph has...

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: Dear Mobile Phone Users,

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Thursday, April 07, 2005. Dear Mobile Phone Users,. Dear Mobile Phone Users,. If it weren’t bad enough that you insist on forcing me to partake in your vocal urine by geographical locality, now you have invented a mobile phone gadget bloody bragging right which renders me violent when in your company. Do you really need a fucking camera? All would be saved and well if you used your phones for the power of good, but even the imminent demise of all mankind which only you can prevent isn’t enough for ...

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: Dear Everybody,

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Tuesday, April 19, 2005. I've fucking gone and moved. Reinventing the lost fucking art of letter writing. Dear The Countryside,. Dear My Colonoscopy,. Dear Mobile Phone Users,. Nameless Misanthropy and Poo-dar. View my complete profile. Bwil loves nasty hookers. (Brian). G loves boobies. (Gary). Hannah loves hot man-on-man action. (Hannah). Jeff loves coffay. (Jeff). Jess loves beers. (Jess). Ryan loves Jess. (Ryan). Shad loves nothing. (Shad). Shelly loves me 'cause she's my sister. (Shelly).

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: December 2004

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Tuesday, December 28, 2004. My experience of you is as follows:. 1) You have a lot of falling down buildings. Clean up your act - a bit of timber, plaster and nails will go a long way. 2) Traffic laws hardly exist. I was playing 'chicken' with traffic and didn't even know it. 3) I felt bad taking a wee at The Vatican. Nonetheless, I thought my atheist wee might eat away those holy loos. 4) Tourists should keep their farts to themselves at the Sistine Chapel. PS Rome was actually quite ace. Sunday was a D...

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: Dear The Countryside,

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Wednesday, April 13, 2005. Dear The Countryside,. Dear The Countryside,. Anyway, the upshot of this is that the country seems to be full, and property prices / rent are about as high as Pete Doherty’s stepladder. Nevertheless, I have faith in the internet and the enormous networking circle that anything up to 50 daily visitors (wow! Reinventing the lost fucking art of letter writing. Dear The Countryside,. Dear My Colonoscopy,. Dear Mobile Phone Users,. Nameless Misanthropy and Poo-dar.

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: March 2005

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Thursday, March 24, 2005. MmMMMMM, lovely. Lovely, lovely boogers. Yum, yum, yummity-yummity-yum. Take it from your nose, roll it round your tongue, feel it trickle down your throat like an oyster basted with love. Smack your lips, grin your grin. AhhhHhHHHh. Except, no. It's fucking foul. Consider this: would you eat an entire plate - nay, a bowl! Would you chow down into a piggie trough of nose-grit? No No you fucking wouldn't. So are boogers like caviar? Are they like saffron? Wednesday, March 23, 2005.

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Chocolate Covered Bananas: Dear Doctors,

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Thursday, April 14, 2005. I have created my own super-scientific cure based on osmosis for all infectious diseases. Now give me a fucking patent and a million billion trillion pounds for my genius,. Reinventing the lost fucking art of letter writing. Dear The Countryside,. Dear My Colonoscopy,. Dear Mobile Phone Users,. Nameless Misanthropy and Poo-dar. View my complete profile. Bwil loves nasty hookers. (Brian). G loves boobies. (Gary). Hannah loves hot man-on-man action. (Hannah).