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“You know what? Fuck bank holidays. Why does this country feel the need to shut down every so often? If I wanted to be trapped in my house with nothing to do I’d live in the fucking country.”

“I tell you what really pisses me off: friggin’ religion. I’ve just been thinking about it long and hard, and there’s nothing moreso in this world that pisses me off more than religion.

I don’t know why but I’ve been sat there watching the news, thinking about all the bad things that happen in this world, and there are these people that sit around in a big building trying to project themselves as bigger than everybody else.

Well, I have to say it just pisses me off because, are you really better than anybody else? No you’re not, you’re really not. At the end of the day, if you were better than everybody else you’d be going over to Africa, you’d be feeding the starving children, you wouldn’t be sat there rambling about a person who doesn’t even exist, he doesn’t really care, he didn’t create the world, he didn’t do anything. If he had created the world he wouldn’t be putting all these bad things in it.

So anyway have a good hard look in the mirror, anyone who’s religious. I’m really sorry, I don’t care who you are, whether you’re Muslim, you’re Christian, you’re all as bad as each other. You piss me off.

So basically that’s all I’ve got to say. Anyone who wants to have a go, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough…you prick.”

“I tell you what pisses the fucking shite out of me: when you go to shops and you’ve three fucking weeks ago left stuff into them and asked them to get it fixed, telling them that you have to have it with you when you’re going off somewhere in three weeks’ time, and you come back after the three fucking weeks and the bastard shiteheads still haven’t managed to get the shit fixed.

Aah God I mean there is absolutely fucking premeditated murder or pashion killing or whatever is boiling around in my head, and luckily after much shouting and fucking screaming, threatenings and all sorts of shite I got them to fix the stuff while I was watching which I thought was lucky because they got the measurements wrong.

Well anyway, there you go…”

“OK, it’s 7:30 in the morning, I’m sitting on the bus; don’t want to be sitting on the bus; who wants to be sitting on the bus at 7:30 in the fucking morning?

Well I am. I’m sitting on the bus, doing my thing, sitting there. On comes this guy, now how can I describe the guy? The guy is wearing a fucking track suit, he’s got a neck tattoo, he is wearing a vest underneath the track suit on one of the coldest days of the fucking year. He’s go that glow-in-the-dark prism necklace thing that they all seem to fucking have, wearing a cap obviously, and he’s got on with his girlfriend, that pinch-faced, rat-faced horrible - well she’s rocking the look I call “crack whore”; she’s a white crack whore basically.

So they get on the bus, and I’m not one to judge people on appearances, hey, whatever, you’ve got nowhere to go, you’re getting on a bus; fuck it. Alright? I’m sitting on the bus and they start smoking weed! Horrible burnt plastic fucking weed! At 7:30 in the morning! How bad is this guy’s day gonna be that he needs to smoke weed at 7:30 in the fucking morning? You know he hasn’t got a job, you know he’s not going to an office somewhere, unless it’s Casual fucking Monday and they take that shit really fucking seriously.

Bastards.”

“Have you rung the bloody tone yet or what? Is it the tone now? Well here’s another blood thing.

When people park their car and they see there’s a space, right, and they drive in forwards? Don’t drive in forwards when you take up the space and a little bit of the line; not just a little bit but like 6 or 7 inches ’cos you know what that means? It means you can’t fucking park another car next to it, and that’s just rude isn’t it? Rude!”

“One, one massive, massive issue, and that is Saturday afternoon shopping. Why on earth do you stick so many muppets in a shopping centre, and you have to walk round with your elbows pointed out to smash your way through the crowds. Why don’t people just move out the way?

And let’s go over another thing: women with prams, and mothers with prams, they think they own the shopping centres, it’s absolutely ridiculous: I’m a person, I’m walking there too. I want my space. Get out of my way and leave me alone on a Saturday afternoon.

Cheers.”

“I have one major, major issue, and when you go to a pub to watch a sporting event, whether it be England football or rugby and you don’t get there 6 hours before the kick-off and you turn up 10 minutes to go, you have people in the seats - in the prime seats, in the prime viewing seats - that do not care about either rugby or football.

Namely in will be girls in seats, taking up valuable man-space; and this absolutely drives me wild, because when the sport’s on, they will be sat there with the big screen in front of them and they will be chatting about handbags or shoes or anything of the like.

Now, women should be banned from pubs when sport is on the TV. Rant over, I thank you.”

“You know, you know what really gets me? You know; middle lane. You know what the middle lane’s for? Right, there’s 3 lanes on a motorway. Right, you’ve got lane 1: that’s by the hard shoulder, that’s for driving in. You’ve got lane 2: that’s for overtaking the people who are driving in lane 1. And then lane 3 is for overtaking the people who are in lanes 2 and 1.

D’you know what they do? They sit there don’t they in the middle lane. They sit there like muppets not looking in the mirror; they don’t look in the back mirror, they don’t look in the side mirrors, they just sit there, 3 feet from the windscreen in a world of their own. They have no idea what’s coming up behind them, they don’t know what’s coming up in front of them, they’re just listening to the Carpenters, loud, loud, loud on CD.

They should be shot.”

“D’you know what gets on my nerves? Temporary traffic lights, in rush hour and no fucking workmen!”