Dave the Warlock

So today was another reasonably uneventful day at work. I did meet a strange warlock though. His name is Dave.
The area where I work at the newsagent is a pretty rough one and so we tend to get a lot of witches and warlocks in the store. The witches are all moles. Simple as that. They are extremely outgoing and arrogant. Getting into an argument with a witch is not worth your while, and if you do, and you think you won, you'll only end up dealing with her moron warlock husband who will wipe the floor with you. Trust me. I've seen it, and it was funny.
Anyway, generally warlocks are morons with very little education. They leave school when they're about 14 and live on welfare for the rest of their lives. In this area anyway.
Dave walks up to the counter with a copy of Penthouse and his lotto numbers. Typical. Then he says "Hello good sir, I would like to purchase this copy of Penthouse and a lotto ticket for tonight's draw using these numbers that have been selected"
Interesting, I thought to myself. People buying Penthouse don't even look me in the eye let alone introduce themselves to me. But this guy obviously wasn't from around here. His footwear was closed and he was wearing a shirt and his pitchfork looked like it was purely for transportation purposes unlike warlocks around the shop who also use their pitchforks to bury dog shit in their backyards.
So I completed the purchase and he said "Thank you very much Andrew."
Andrew!? What the hell is this guy on? I thought to myself. I just smiled. Then, rather then flying off on his pitchfork he jumps into a Discovery parked out front and drives off.
Oh well.
And as for the nancy spider, as I arrived home from work I saw one of the guys up the street running around his front yard swinging a rake and yelling "I'll teach you to call me a grotesque bear who buys his clothes from the filthy pig shopping channel!"

Rist Out

Rude Awakening

I was woken up at 2am this morning, thumping headache and slits for eyes to someone knocking insistently on my door.
I answer the door to find it was my neighbor Rick.
I have to explain Rick. Rick is apparently from the planet Relustorn B. Just ask him and he'll tell you all about it and then shoehorn in how much of a successful software engineer he is. Rick is 4ft tall, purple and his head and body look like a watermelon on top of a yard glass.
"Hey Ritz, um can I hear a Scottish man yelling at your place. Normally I wouldn't mind but I have a big day ahead. I'm working on a proposal for a new piece of code which will revolutionise they way people order skip bins online." Said Rick ever so politely. This guy shits me to tears.
I was pretty sure he was talking about that wanker kraut spider still locked in my car.
I explained what had happened and showed him the spider. The spider referred to us 'sick bear and his purple sex toy' as we peered threw the window.
Rick informed me that he too had a rude spider problem a few days earlier except his spider was French and twice the size of mine. Of course it was Rick, you tool.
"So how did you solve your spider problem Rick?" uninterested I asked. "I threw it outside on to the road" he replied. Fair enough.
I opened the car door and quickly grabbed the flashy spider. He briefly mentioned something about my stubby fingers. I then threw him down the street into the darkness.
"You will pay ugly boys!" he yelled as he sailed into the darkness.
"Night" I said to Rick as I shut the front door. He replied. Whatever I thought to my self as I realised I still had a shit day of work to look forward to.

Flashy spider in my carport

Well I had a shit of a day. Nothing unusual there. My job sucks, my boss is a tool and the coffee machine is a joke.
Anyway, I get home, get out of my car and stand up straight into a huge frigging spiderweb! If that wasn't enough I then hear this voice in a false German accent "Hey ugly man! That took eight hours to create and now it has been destroyed in two seconds by your Cro-Magnon brow!"
A little shocked I turn to see a house spider the size of a dinner plate on the inside of my opened car door wearing Dolce&Gabana jeans, a chunky gold chain around its neck and Prada sunglasses on its forehead.
I was in no mood to be taking shit from a false German arachnid looking like someone from tosspotwannabetrendy.com so I closed the car door and locked it. I was not going deal with it then or now. So to the muffled expletives of an eight-legged twink I walked into my house to get drunk and go to sleep.
I'll sort it out tomorrow.



To Be Continued....