Sundays… apparently a day of rest and day of reputable religious worship and relaxation, except that I never seem to do any of that. Now oddly I have a girlfriend that has a rather dubious obsession with boot sales and the much more fitting term of “flea markets”

Boot sales to me are the apitamy of skankyness and there is nowhere on this depressed fueled fed world that’s worse… except maybe a boot sale in my horrid town of Harlow. We got up at around 1pm and yes I know it’s fucking lazy and yes I know it’s a tad late to go to a bloody bootsale, but if you ever try and get up my bird before that then your looking at a whole fucking day of abuse, mood swings and her sneakily putting chewing gum on your chair every time you try and park your ass.

She is in all intensional purposes a vile monster before midday, a rather strange and surreal opposite to that of werewolves, vampires and zombies that only drink blood in the sanctuary of night… Sarahphobia as I call it lays waste to people in the morning… especially Monday mornings where it’s advisable to be a galaxy far far away… fighting a civil war against the Empire is more preferable than pissing Sarah just after crack of dawn.

You know when your in for a real boot sale treat when you have to fuck up your suspension on your car getting to it, turning into a dirt track next to a crudely painted sign saying “car boot” into a world of hill billy's, ass raping of strangers and pickpockets. Bouncing around in a poor motor as you successfully manage to find every pot hole and every lump in the ground so dodgy you couldn’t even walk over, a simple case of following the trashy litter scattered road to flea heaven.

On parking up in a field of all places we get out the car and head towards the boot sale and getting out our change, 50p it cost us to get in… that means that we have to pay for the privilage to buy the shit that other people don’t want. Now call me pedantic but that’s bit of a cheek because that means you have to buy at least one item or you might as well just throw a handful of change into the air and bugger off.

If there’s one thing I can’t fucking stand and that’s people, boot sale swarms of people especially because they are different to normal shoppers in the respect they are just plain fucking rude. They hover about in front of you like they are on some sort of day trip; you can see their brains scanning over all the useless tat that other people are trying to get rid of. They stop dead right in front of you as they sniff out a particularly appealing piece of shit that they like, meaning you gotta stop dead in your tracks with half a ton of bloody rottweiler walking next to you that nine times out of ten ten don’t stop when you do.

One thing that escapes me is why the police don’t get down there in the early hours and round up all the local thieves when there all in one place!! Some of the stuff is downright criminal and the worst ones are the Chinese or the Turkish sellers of pirate DVDs. When I used to go to Hackney Marshes Market with my mate Ange it was one of the worst places for pirate DVDs, now I aint a proclaimed of truth and bloody justice and I will buy a pirate DVD on the principle that cinemas are bloody crooks.

In Hackney you are treated to a showing of a “copy” of the DVD before you buy it so you’re not ripped off by its quality… Now my mate Ange don’t take any bullshit… we was shown a good quality film and yeah, we decided to by it… when we were handed the DVD we gave it back and said “No, we’ll have the one you just showed us“… all fucking hell broke loose and to say it was barbaric would be an understatement. We’ve probably still got our faces on the “Turks most want respectable citizen list”.

Back to the boot sale yesterday though, and the one thing that surprises me is the amount of actual bizarre bollocks that people actually own. Most it can be categorized into two different groups “interesting… but shit!” and “smelly, crap and shit!” yet people are undeterred into selling the most stupid of things. If I were to hold a boot sale I would end up selling everything I wanted to keep, the shit your pushing at one of these places is a reflection of who your are.

I am the worst for stall judging, I look at the pasting table of bullshit then I look at the cretin selling it and I try to picture what their house looks like judging by the garbage they are peddling. Where is your pride boot sellers? Unless your selling hooky gear, pirate DVD’s or tobacco you aint gonna sell an incredible amount of shit or make a surprising profit… so do us all a favor yeah… save yourself the embarrassment and give it to charity! The advantage of doing this is that the little less unfortunate orphans with dirty faces have one eyed dolls to play with, the homeless get a half used bottle of Old Spice or Brute to dampen the smell of their bangin asses… and more importantly… I get a fucking lay in on a Sunday!

Now I’m probably reading a bit too much into porn but to me the whole porn world is a tad false, I’m not saying it’s crap far from it… but it aint totally realistic by any means. All they have to do is switch the camera on and fuck… but they don’t, the over act and treat us like total dicks by having an intro… who seriously watches the first ten minutes of porn?

The women in porn too are sadly like cartoon characters of real women, they stroll on pretending to be gagging with their white shiny teeth and rubber tits and actually pretend it’s sex they want… in reality women see it as a fucking chore. Especially relationship sex because they are just totally sick of the sight of you, your mere presence is enough to send a woman into a livid fit despite your loyalty to her.

It don’t matter how much you wash, spray, scrub or spend… sex is always the last fucking thing on her mind it drives me absolutely nuts. In porn also is the whole set up of it, woman walks on… see’s man… cock is in gob! How the fuck is that supposed to get us going, it’s just a damn reminder of the things that real women won’t do.

Women these days have a very selfish attitude towards pretty much everything, I aint saying they are totally selfish but in their attitude they are thoroughly self absorbed and money hungry. Conversation wise is another thing that’s bizarrely scrambled within a womans head, have you noticed that it don’t matter what you’re both talking about, the moment you open your mouth she cracks over your words changing the subject. If the woman is bored then surly she should at least try and make the effort to sound interested, us men are faking interest all the time just in case the woman goes off us claiming to need attention, interest, love… blah blah fucking blah. So what about our sodding needs?

It would be nice every now and then for a woman to show an interest in us, men don’t normally fuck about… if they don’t get interest they go somewhere else and labeled cheating scoundrels and such. Women when they cheat are “misunderstood” “neglected” and loads of other bloody contradictions to their male counterparts.

Why is it if you fart in front of a woman all you get is a lecture about letting yourself go, having no respect as well as other verbal female bullshit. If a woman farts in front of you they say stuff like “it took me a long time to feel comfortable to do that in front you!” and like total idiots we are proud and happy! I mean seriously, they control our minds and they manipulate them to their will… if your girlfriend took her knickers off, squatted on your face and ripped out a guff that burnt all your nose hairs and singed your eye brows while you slept… she would have you feeling honored and pleased that she gave you Hitler's tash in shit on your upper lip. Leave a fucking dirty knife on the table and they won’t shut up and start calling their lawyers for immediate divorce proceedings.

Toilet seats? What the fuck is all the fuss about? When you buy a toilet or bog seat, where does it say a man MUST put the seat down? Putting the seat up or down is not even a chore, it takes a fraction of a second and I’ve eaten a cookie in longer time than it takes put the toilet seat down. Women go totally bollocks over it because it’s too much effort, well sorry girls… in my house I leave the toilet seat exactly in the same position I left it, you don’t see me throwing a strop coz you’ve left it down… this is what I do girls, I walk into the bathroom… oh my god shock horror! The toilet seat is down… I lift it up… emergency over… IT IS THAT FUCKING SIMPLE!

This next gripe is aimed at every single girl I have EVER been out with because every one of them is guilty of this horrid habit. Why is it that if a woman has bath or a shower at night it means they don’t need to wash the next morning? It truly baffles me because when your asleep your safely ensconced under layers upon fucking layers of duvets and sweating like Gary Glitter at Disney Land, Languishing in a pit of micro organisms and dead skin. “Oh… no it’s alright… I bathed last night!” they say… here’s a bit of news for ya girls… LAST NIGHT IS YESTERDAY! Fuck man, I wear the same T-shirt the next day and a woman is down me like a ton of bricks… she sleeps in a cocoon of flesh flakes and sweat patches and that’s fine… coz she had a wash last night!