The hyphens too make it make sense
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I’d love to meet all youse funny fuckers et jam jar. We’d huv a pure laugh dolls 
Yet another picture of his bed 
He’s “shattered” my wee hen, he will be in bed for six tonightYet another picture of his bed
The bulbs get me everytime.Yet another picture of his bed
They are so Mario though aren’t they? Always just missing the mark every time
Oh feck off why don't you 
Always shattered, always moaning, always the same boring pictures of the cold, uncosy flat, cheap decor and stupid cleaning products
You're not the only one to buy them you dick!.
Always shattered, always moaning, always the same boring pictures of the cold, uncosy flat, cheap decor and stupid cleaning products
You're not the only one to buy them you dick!.
My lovlies I’ve been out the last few nights livin life as it should be lived holdin ma phone high and so forth and honestly when I opened That App on this dayn of dawn and tried to make sense of this:
It’s not an exaggeration to say this has broken my brain. I read this about 8 times before I could compute it. What the duck
My face right now:
It’s not an exaggeration to say this has broken my brain. I read this about 8 times before I could compute it. What the duck
My face right now:
Kin we make it Castlevecchi ma lovelie, ah'm hoping Paolo Nutini's there and he kin be ma dessertI’d love to meet all youse funny fuckers et jam jar. We’d huv a pure laugh dolls
Huz the glitter pumpkins duvet made a return yet, that's aw ah want tae ken aboot Marion and nae debates.Yet another picture of his bed
Wunder if they ur dim wattage like Martin and wee Deek.
Poor wee lamb is shattered after a hard week of shopping and slop eating. 
He'll need a good sleep the night so he can be aw excited to show us his cleaning hall, because that's wit weekends are for, spending valuable time showing strangers tit you've bought in HB/B&M.
He'll need a good sleep the night so he can be aw excited to show us his cleaning hall, because that's wit weekends are for, spending valuable time showing strangers tit you've bought in HB/B&M. 
Whats with the screen shot of the time? Stop acting like a child ya bawbag
Think he's try to be like MR, usual from the usual with Marion- copying other's.Whats with the screen shot of the time? Stop acting like a child ya bawbag
On side note do you think you can hear the wind blowing through Martins ears? Just a random thought I had
Can’t believe he has the famous Pat Butcher blouse as his Lock Screen
It's a absolutle staple - pure vintage!Can’t believe he has the famous Pat Butcher blouse as his Lock Screen
Edited to add - Hes a fashion icon (well he thinks he is)
Bet the only time he’s on his knees in that flat is when he’s taking these pictures of the bed the sad bastardOh feck off why don't you
Always shattered, always moaning, always the same boring pictures of the cold, uncosy flat, cheap decor and stupid cleaning products
You're not the only one to buy them you dick!.
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Nope I was almost gonna write something utterly filthy in reply to this but I’ve thought better of it
This has to be a veiled dig at Marion it just has to beWant to help your brother in law out there Marion? oh yeah that’s right you don’t help charities do you, you just hop on the band wagon
I’m so up for thatI’d love to meet all youse funny fuckers et jam jar. We’d huv a pure laugh dolls
The height of wee Deek he would need to be lying down on the flair my lovelyNope I was almost gonna write something utterly filthy in reply to this but I’ve thought better of it
Hens pray for me.
I was steaming last night in Italy, rolled in (literally doing rolly pollys down hotel corridor) at 3.30am. In the office for 7, presentation at 8. The stench of wine and regret leaking from me.
Just doing my expenses wondering how I’m going to hide the receipt wedge for the rounds I brought without them thinking I have a severe alcohol problem and secondly who the duck do I think I am.
I feel awful, like close to needing hospice care.
However, even in my dire state Marion’s bed is still about as appealing genital warts to me.
I was steaming last night in Italy, rolled in (literally doing rolly pollys down hotel corridor) at 3.30am. In the office for 7, presentation at 8. The stench of wine and regret leaking from me.
Just doing my expenses wondering how I’m going to hide the receipt wedge for the rounds I brought without them thinking I have a severe alcohol problem and secondly who the duck do I think I am.
I feel awful, like close to needing hospice care.
However, even in my dire state Marion’s bed is still about as appealing genital warts to me.
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