“That’s all I want for my birthday, man!” he declared.
“A whole bucketful of mixed fowl to myself, you know.
Just three girls, I’m not greedy… you lot can have the rest.
A brunette chick to suck my cock
whilst a redhead’s licking my arsehole
and I’m burying my spicy bread crumbed
and greasy barbequed face
into a sleazy bit of blonde white trash for desert.
Enough alcohol and uppers to raise the Titanic
and then sink the fucker again.
A Shadwell Army scarf from the movie ‘ID’
A Wychwood Brewery Viking drinking horn.
A new pair of classic brass knuckles
I broke the last ones getting married.
And Gal Gadot’s name tattooed on my fucking knob!”
“So just the ‘Gal’ part for short then, mate?”
“Nuh, initials only… no capital letters or punctuation, cheeky cunt!”