A fat bird started chatting me up in the club last night and I mentioned I'd just had my birthday this week. "Well, happy birthday, sexy," she purred, stroking down my chest. "If I come back to yours tonight, could you put a smile on my face?" "Probably not," I told her. "There's no f*cking cake left."
Actually this sin't so funny. I've seen news items where people like this really do complain of insufficient welfare payments and gesticulate with expensively manicured finger nails and heavily tattooed arms.
