Tonight is the big one, according to Pigsy.
It's the semi finals.
Whoopee fucking do, I can hardly wait . . . .
I can only think of one thing
that would be more exciting . . . .
Nailing my bollocks to the rear bumper
of a fast moving Porsche.
I couldn't give a flying toss about either of these twatathons
but I thought that I would try and make the effort.
"So two people from each show get voted off tonight then"
I said, pretending to sound interested.
"No?" said Pigsy, in a 'fuck off don't be stupid' kind of way
that only women seem to be the master of.
"Only one from each show is going".
"Only one?" I said,
wishing that I hadn't started this conversation.
"How the fuck does that work then?"
"That means there'll be three in the final!"
"That's just the way it is" she said sounding exasperated.
Now I was getting cross.
"Semi is half of something" I said "4 minus 2 is fucking 2!"
"If one is going then 4 minus 1 is 3, so its a quarter final!"
"No?" says Pigsy, in that "don't be a twat" kind of way again.
"That was last week, when there were five left."
"Fucking five in a fucking quarter fucking final!"
I was definitely going off on one by now.
"So all those wankers, that produce these
bag o'shite programmes,
have re-written the laws of maths now have they?"
"What does it matter to you anyway" came the reply,
"You don't even watch them!"
Too fucking right I don't, I thought to myself.
"Just trying to show an interest my love"
I said unconvincingly
"Well don't" she said (I think that was an order)
"You'll only end up getting in a strop"
Too fucking late for that!
Do you ever wish that you hadn't fucking bothered?