Elementary, my dear Watson…

For most people the notion of being told to fuck right off is a very simple, possibly brutal, concept to grasp. But nonetheless it does not command major thought or insurmountable levels of understanding… Right? Well not in Cockhead’s case. The man is just simply plain fucking ignoramusly stoopid!

Crazy B hooked up Cockhead a while ago when she came to visit me in Jozi in November. Instantly we took one look at each other (that’s Cockhead and I) and the dislike was evident. Mainly because I could see that he was a complete fucking wanker and total waste of human space. A true oxygen thief. Nonetheless he seemed to make my best mate happy and so I kept quiet. That was, of course, until he turned all psycho on her and started to give her a play-by-play of what their married life would be like! Um, huh, what, sorry but can we fucking pause and rewind!!! The dude just lost the plot…

Through all of this he still came down to Cape Town and went to the same New Years bash that we did. Crazy B got a bit toasted and so he was of course the first to jump at the offer to take her to the car where she could sleep off the booze. As the über tart that I am there was just no fucking way on God’s green earth that this was going to happen. Of course this little plan totally screwed up his idea of a romantic evening with my past out mate! He got a bit abusive with me, I contemplated kicking him in the not-worth-mentioning-nuts (note to the boys: tarts talk) but then realized that I loved my shoes too much. So I did what any Italian would do and kicked up such a commotion that the parking guards would have thought I was being raped!…

But I digress slightly…

Basically, Crazy B told Cockhead to fuck off, lose her number and never to bother contacting her again. Simple enough instructions. Think a fucking illiterate starving child who spoke alien could have understood that. But oh no, not this buffoon… Low and behold if he doesn’t send Crazy B an email wishing her happy birthday for tomorrow! I mean Jesus H Christ man save what little fucking manhood you have and move the fuck on! Has he never heard that song Walk on By…?

Fuck off isn’t code for please oh please contact me, send me flowers and whilst you’re at it ask me to marry you! It is the one phrase that whether you come from Venus or Mars has no room for misinterpretation! It means what it says, period.

This guy has got to be the thickest fucking example of the male species that I have ever had the misfortune of having to meet. What a toss, what a wanker and most of all: what a fucking idiot!