Stoop Talk.

Some clusty thoughts from my disgusting front garden in Hyde Park, Leeds, where I used to live.

One day I was just walking down the road in town and this woman was going down the main street screaming, ‘How can you live like this? How can you smile and be happy with people like this?’

Then a little midget black guy walks past and tells her to shut the fuck up.

The dealer across the road always has plenty of business on sunny days like these. Sometimes you get people pulling up in taxis or their own cars and shouting or whistling to get some customer service-it’s not often that he actually does pop his shrunken little baby head out though. He’s got a few mates with similarly stupid shaped heads that do the leg work for him. You see a lot of beefs between these fellas from my front step.
There is a girl who lives there with her kid and a fat bitch Staffordshire bull terrier with massive tits (the terrier's tits that is). Well I say lives there but she often packs the car up with stuff and does one because of the behaviour of baby head. Just the other day one of these Bonobos threw the kid’s tricycle at his mate’s car-the guy that threw it doesn’t even live there. You generally just have to put up with these cunts, fighting or shouting on the blower, wandering about the street with their hands plunged down their pants. Sometimes one of them has ventured over to try and give us his number for Dids and Cheng and that. He never comes through though and to be honest I think these amateurs strictly hold crap whizz.

This man walks past in the mid afternoon everyday, he looks a bit worse for wear mentally and has always got a pram full of dirty old rags with him. He's desperate to say hello. Normally if I’m out on the stoop I’ll wave at him but today I didn’t. He knew though and even when he was way past and I though it was safe he still clocked me. The second I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye, there he was-‘Hello, hello!’ ‘Alright mate’ I offered. ‘Hello how’s it going?’ Sound I say turning away, not being mean but you don’t want him coming over with his bounteous load do you? Although I don’t know, maybe all he needs is someone to ask him-What the fuck do you keep collecting these nappies and shit for?
Then he might get things on the straight and narrow, take the kids to Legoland an that.

A gaggle of horse faced footie toffs bob past, a cacophony of bollocks on the wind, the last thing heard as the foul storm passes? ‘It’s your birthday you cunt.’
Now I’m sure individuals more pious than myself have bemoaned these idiots over the years, but there is something new to these specimens. A whirling nuclear tempest of self worth spins in each one, a golden pride has been bestowed by erect greasy parents.
This breed worry me.