Tortuosity killed the copycat

He could not do it the easy way, oh no.

He could not lift his bike above his head like the rest of them, oh no. That would have been too simple. He would not actually lift his little finger, if you ask me, that lazy bollix.

He only had energy for that webshite.
He had to get a few more clicks, always a few more clicks, his daily fix of laughs and sniggers from his internet buddies, all that gang of wasters with nothing better to do than mess about online.
I ask you... a grown man, with three angelic kids. Lying on the ground, in the street, for the whole world to see. No sense of shame he had, no sense of shame.

And that poor Mrs Raheny, on her own with these three great little kids. So quiet, so polite, so... normal. Poor woman.

That careless gobshite never saw the articulated lorry reversing into the street. He was too busy giving directions to his mate for that shot. The last one. The very last one. Thank fuck for that. I never found him funny.

Poor Mrs Raheny. Bah, she won't be long finding a decent guy. Not another clown, she's learned her lesson.
Do you know what?! His last words where "I can't let that jaybroek make an arse of himself on his own, I have to show some solidarity!"
Some epitaph for sure... Don't think anyone will bother their arse carving that one in stone...


Thank you Totoche for the shot