Premier Binn Raider.

Check oot these belters! Got them oot White Power Bill's Discount Tools and Snout up the Gallowgate. Swapped him two mitzies an a vintage Mafair fae 1975 fur it. Pure hummin' snaggletooth hole in that scud mag. Wis whit he's intae. A man eh discerning taste, like masel. 

 


Anywai, these bad boys ol pick up any shite Ye throw at them. 25p boatlles eh bru, any size eh crisp packet... Grab bag eh walkers. They dirty balsa wood crisps oot the tandoori... Ye ken whit ah mean, they smell like Jo Brand's gear an taste like each wan wis flavoured wi dawn French's tears. Ye know, efter big Lenny's delt wi her efter smashing about 5 premier inn breakfasts? They wans. Nae fuckin bother.

Aye, but this is fuckin Bearsden. Wee basterds only eat Kettle Chips an organic Wotsits. Last time ah ask if I could tap a Tom Tom aff some wee dafty he whipped oot a sat nav. Cunts. 

Techy teachers are cunts.

Better get shot of this recycle hing in the staff room before that right cunt of a headmaster appears.
Ended up gettin locked in the school last night when a conked oot efter gettin blazin wi wan of the techy teachers in the staff room.
Tanned hunners of cans and wine then the cunt pure boosted.
A suppose bein the janny he expected me tae clean it up but wit a snide cunt efter me gettin im blazin and hivin tae put wi his pure hummin chat aboot dovetail joints and MDF.
Hunners of bombers oan the carpet anaw.
Baws.