You live a life of constant hardship eating goat eyeball soup for breakfast, lunch and fucking tea, no running water no sitting doon to watch East Enders on the telly in fact no telly and then you look out of yer yurt and see a fucking Donny Osmond Mormon/moron wanting to talk to you about their zany religion.
Well I can no longer complain about anything in my life cos that takes the fucking biscuit.
Quick hide behind a Yak and pretend you aren't home, ah shit hes seen us.
