I can just picture the scene on that boarded ship. Gun toting somalian pirates scouring around looking for the goods they can sell...
Pirate 1: Er.... Mehmet?
Pirate 2: Yes, Khalid?
P1: It's full of tanks!
P2: Fish tanks?
P1: Fucking tanks! Fucking boom boom!
P2: Oh...
P1: The things that signalled the end of trench fighting in modern warfare?
P2: I know what a fucking tank is!
P1: What are we gonna do?!
P2: Sell them?
P1: How?! We can't just wheel them into the market and do two for the price of one!
P2: There is a demand round our ways... we cou-
P1: Could what? Cold call the local war lords?
P2: OOoooh We could put them on-
P1: Don't say ebay. You know they stopped my account!
P2: All because you tried to sell Kylie tickets.
P1: I know
P2: (sigh)
P1: You said they would have Wiis on this one. You said that!
P2: The demand is high. Christmas approaching. It had to be!
P1: Not even a single wii fit on board.....
P2: Hey! You wanna go and shoot up the poop deck for giggles?
P1: Awesome! Let's go!
I hope they resolve it soon. Them pirates have families too.
I went to Manchester the other day. The fatest old lady sat next to me on the train. She fell asleep and started snoring. I nearly stuffed the metro newspaper into her stupid face but held back at the last minute. The next time I go anywhere with a train, I'm going first class. That way I can walk up and down the train asking if anyone had seen my mate Curruthers! I'm bringing down that class system, man!
Tomorrow, I'm going to work on my beat box skills. The annual beat-off contest is soon and I need to get some practice!
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