biker barb
It was already boiling hot but as we supped the free beers from Ed we know it would be a good one. I’d had no sleep last night but felt quite reasonable. Although down the EK on Sunday I’d walked into the pub and one of the biker/tattoo/long hair/guitar music/ah, let’s wind the druggies up type of guys turns round and says to me “’Ere mate! You’ve either had a long weekend or you’re looking old”“Both”, I reply smiling sweetly and giggling at his top barb. “Anyway”, I say, “how’ it going…” and under my breath I think “...you cunt?”


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