postcard from the goldie
I Want to wake up in an ocean front room in that big posh pub on the Goldie Spit with the early morning sun streaming onto the satin sheets – I want to push aside that languorous and questing hand with the crimson nails that would delay me and say ‘ not now Elle baby, there’s a peak out there with my name written all over it. ‘
Then I want to have one of those blokes in a white top waiting by the water’s edge with a nice creamy latte when I come in after a couple hours of rip and tear , after that I want a breakfast of black sausage and anything ~ then I’ll get back to Elle, maybe, depends on the tide.
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Pete is laying down a very unequal, chauvinistic standard that has no real basis in logical observation. His sweeping generalizations are beyond the realm of laughable satire, and barely deserve a passing snort of dismissive contempt.
I get the impression that this guy is the type of bloke who thinks two guys kissing are faggots which precipitates some sort of redneck beatdown, but that when two chicks make out its “farking sweet!” His use of the contrived phrase “I want a breakfast of black sausage” as some sort of insult betrays his own homophobia, thereby negating his attempts at making a rational argument.
Of all the folks to write in and make such broad declarative statements as to what constitutes a complete load of crap, Peter Bowes effortlessly embodies the narcissistic, discriminatory, sociopathic behaviors that define a true asshole.
Just kidding, of course.
Another fine read, me good mate.
I thought that you’d gone mad and the coppers shot you .. Howabout I send a couple of Irish over to finish the job .. they can do discounts on more than one if you have a mind.