eat less pastry
Rough people live in rough places and have rough hands.
Nice people live in pleasant streets with trees and say hello how are you to people in the street and don’t get their cocks out or shout cunt at everyone all the time.
Nice people have clean easy jobs like in offices and for the council and they are doctors and solicitors.
They don’t have to pick up sacks of shit and nappies like rough people who are things like bin men and security guards who are paid fuck all and have to take it up the arse from poncy jumped up twats right out of college.
Nice people go to nice schools and get qualifications.
Rough people go to concrete comprehensives that are falling to bits. They stick knives in each others eyes and call each other bastards. They have sarcastic teachers who are not much cleverer than they are and they get shit certificates in things like how to get on a bus.
They would rather finger Sandra Hetherington round the back of the foyer and let their mates smell it afterwards than get their homework done. Rough people do the lottery and are sick in waste paperbins, all phlegmy and stringy green stuff. They nick mobiles and watch Sky TV and shout loudly in shops if their kids are lost like come here you stupid little cunt.
Nice people have violin lessons and sing hymns.
Nice people have jobs where the boss is respectful.
Rough people’s bosses say where have you been you stupid cunt I’m gonna dock your pay for this. They sometimes twat you in the face and they are still wearing that big ring and so it’s a cut as well as a bruise, and there was no need for that, they could have taken that ring off.
Rough people’s bosses keep their rings on when they punch you.
Nice people wear suits and play squeaky biscuit in hotel rooms at conferences. Rough people get sacked and sometimes haven’t got jobs at all. Sometimes when you are rough you get so ill you can’t go to work ever. Your boss, if you do have a job, says don’t look at me like that cuntface get on with your work.
