Petulent Prick


Over the last couple of weeks my delusional image of myself as a mature and adult man has taken a bit of a knock.

It all began in a supermarket. *wobbly screen effect*

I was at the checkout, minding my own business (I like to carry my poo around in a bag, so that it’s not stolen by aliens) when the well dressed, grey haired man in front of me suddenly began shouting at the poor lady on the till.

“No I do not have a Nectar card and I’m fucking fed up of you people asking me, if you ask me again I’ll punch you in the bastard face.”

Now, the man who exists in my head would have dealt with this in a calm and rational manner, he would have said “excuse me, sir,  your behaviour is inappropriate, please apologise to this young woman.” However it was my juvenile idiot side which took over so what I actually said was “Talk to her like that again and I’ll stamp your cock to mush, you utter cunt.” Now I would have said more but the man ran for his life, leaving his credit card still in the reader and his two bottles of whisky in their bag. It was such a meaningless display of aggression that I was appalled with myself.  Although the lady on the till now makes a special effort to chat to me when I go in for my groceries, which is nice.

My second jolt came on the 10th November. I was in Sheffield doing some stuff and decided to pop out and have a walk around the city centre. Before long I found myself standing in front of the war memorial which has featured heavily in the newspapers of late because a pissed student took a wee against it.  So I decided it would be simply hilarious if I took a photograph of said memorial and posted it to twitter with the comment “Have just taken a shit here, hope nobody minds.”

Within one minutes I’d lost 100 followers and in two, fifty more, one of whom tweeted ‘Now I appreciate the irony but not on the eve of the eleventh of the eleventh, thanks.’  I was furious, I called him a Daily Mail reading, BNP supporting cunt, I told him that people like him were the reason  free speech was being eroded in this country and I mocked his reactionary ways and called into dispute his parentage. However on this occasion I only said these things it in my head. This didn’t stop the gods of petulance from wreaking their revenge upon me though. Within minutes of not behaving like a child my Twitter account had been hacked and my lovely followers were being subjected to a torrent of Tweets telling them that they were idiots and should take an IQ test.  Sadly as I only had partial internet access at the hotel I didn’t discover this until the following morning, which I spent, apologising to everybody individually for the insults.

Cue: American Sit-Com Ending

So what have I learned from all this. Well I’ve learned that shouting at well-dressed men, makes them run away. I have also learned that it’s best to spew invective into the faces of men on the internet or the gods of petulance will hack your Twitter account and send everybody insulting tweets. But what I’ve mostly learned from all of this is that I am a total cunt.

Thank you and good night.

Humble pie for tea.

Martin Wolfenden

Back in the early days of this Century, I made some money by saying the odd funny thing in public. On one of these occasions a fellow funny talker told me that I should write a blog (because that was the sort of thing funny talking people did back then.) Now, I’m not the sort of person who does things the easy way, so I rejected all the ready made blogging platforms and started my own website. Since then it’s become a repository for whatever stuff is bubbling out of my brains and a directory of various podcasts and videos that I’ve made with my friends and is completely unnecessary.

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