I started my day off pretty fucking decent, woke up with a fat semi-on, blasted one out whilst wastching Judge Judy then enjoyed a nice bowl of Beakabix. In my eyes, it was the perfect start to any fucking day. Putting my robe on and heading off out on 'the graft', smellling of 1 million and lookin Jeem as fuck I felt fucking boss... BUT...something was going to happen that ruined my whole fucking night. Tweeting away as usual, on my blower, me, BIG fucking JEE, was loving life. That was until my page decided it wanted to refresh and ask me. The fucking owner. For the password. Typing my obviously shite password in then getting rejected a number of times made me fucking rage. I spat at some old woman for asking if I was Jesus and told some fella to fuck off because he stood on my robe, which is a legitamite reason... he stood on my fucking robe... In the rain...So, realising the worst day of my life was just about to begin and walking around in a fucking soggy robe I decided to think of happier time, like when I was on the cross doing the helicopter with my lash out to the Romans. In reality I knew my account was fucked, how could anyone have the fucking heart to HACK a religious bastard? Not only a religious bastard, a fucking scouse religious bastard. I couldn't help but think which fucking sad person would 'hack' a Jesus account on Twitter, out of all the celebrities they can choose from... me... a fucking scouse Jesus...I could put a tenner bet on the fucking hacker being a middle-aged, single, fat, red head. Now I have nothing against red heads, I'm not a redhead'ist, but I just seemed to imagine him, sitting there, eating a Pot Noodle, wearing a fucking thermal vest and stinking of sheer shite.Standing there, next to Barry and selling beak to punters the only thing I could do was watch on as some proper blag Jesus, used my account and decided to 'retweet' every single cunt that said hello. I'll be honest, I was fucking devastated.Grafting my arse off, stood in the rain I decided to contact an old friend, probably the biggest fucking nerd on the planet to help secure my account for what would be the second fucking time. Let's hope it's done right now ay lad.Just to let people know, I am back on @JesusChristFTM and I am also no longer using Facebook.This BLOG in short.
- Hackers are wools
- Facebook is shit
- I am sound
Stay #Jeem
Today I'd had my hair done, I was in a great mood, a Jeem mood to be more precise. Lying there on my bed, stress fucking free and flicking through the channels I noticed it was Monday, exactly 1 week ago today I was cringing like fuck for MY very own city and I couldn't do fuck all for it's dignity. I wasn't going to write a blog about this show due to how much it irritates me but as any lad does with an ex-bird, I came up with the conclusion, "should I give her another go?" I answered my own question wrongly by letting it back into my life.So, like an ex-bird does, it stressed me out, stressed me that much that I ran into the garden, strangled Barry then jabbed him in the fucking neck. Having to sit there watching people call themselves scousers then turning up to 5-a-side in a pair of white plimsoles and purple fucking socks, are they purposely trying to burn my head out? I wouldn't be surprised if they were wearing shinpads either. The first ad-break alone had me sniffing a half.Moving on to the lads on the show, supposedly scousers and yet not one of them 'rocking' a pair of the 'very scouse' grey and green 110's? Come on lads, turn it in, use all grew up in private schools and wore loafers.Anyway, what was that Danny playing at? As if anyone can get away with carrying a fucking keyboard through the streets of Liverpool, not only that, where the fuck did he plug it in? Into a fucking wooden fence? BLAG AS FUCK.With the next ad-break due I got up and went to check on Barry, lying in the garden, face flat on the floor and sniffing concrete, he was defo asleep. Realising my donkey punching power had increased gave me a fucking cheesy grid, I even high-fived Mary.Who is that Sean Clancy, splashing out £500 on a membership? Ive never even heard of the cunt. Who does he play for? A fucking Pitz team on a Thursday night? He must have another fucking job on the side as well (plumber, electrician, brickie)? Unless he's using a fucking overdraft and driving around in a 1 Litre Corsa to save money.I'm fucking made up to be honest that I'm not a part of that shit show, lying here, knowing that I'm scouse as fuck and not needing any T.V time and still having more followers than the whole cast. I am one Jeem scouse bastard.Finishing the blog with lets get #DannyTheDivvy trending.Stay #Jeem
