10. that lad would give an aspro a headache
9. eye's on her like piss holes in snow
8. i'm taller standing like a dog sitting
7. good luck now and fuck ya
6. that lad has a great nose on him, he could suck scutter through a straw
5. ah go to be fuckt
4. there's 3 born every minute. 1 ass and 2 jockeys to ride it
3. there isn't a street long enough or crooked enough to name after haughey
2.oh begob thats gone to a topaz
1 .that wan thinks she shites wedding cake

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals roughly piled, and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there, doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line, I found the diskette that was mine.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command,
And waited for the file to store - only this and nothing more.

Deep into the phosphor peering, Long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept turning, churning yet to churn some more.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother. Save my data, and no other!"
Just one thing the screen did render, message bold, but never tender,
Only this and nothing more - just "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, and ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices, as the disk made dev'lish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting...baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, to make the choice of one from three,
Selecting from, "Abort, Retry, Ignore"?

With my fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, so lightly did I press a key.
But on the screen there still persisted - words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying to me one time more, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard; I pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with that cursed demon, begged and cried, and then I swore.
Flailing now in desperation, trying random combinations,
still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, without thinking, winking nonsense I abhor,
Words that at my senses tore, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by mine own machine accosted.
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.
Whereupon, a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, and it shook me to the core.
Lightning zapped my precious data, lost and gone forevermore.
Now in darkness I abhor, not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world is wrought where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, in black holes?
But sure as there's a C and Lotus, Ashton-Tate and many more,
You'll be someday left to wander, lost upon some dismal shore,
Beseeching fickle Gods of yore, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

1. music derived adverts that make it into the charts and more importantly on to the radio. they were shit enough as an annoying ad tune who in their right mind thought it would be a good idea if they can annoy us on the hour every hour.

2. emo's. will ye ever just fuck off. whiney little shites who tout the fact that they are miserable teenagers. sitting in their dark squalid MCR poster festooned rooms crying over "no one understands me,"and " there wasn't enough milk for my coco pops this morning" get over but then they feel the need to come out congregate en mass proving that misery not only loves company but loves playing their tinny self-deprecating music through they're phones without putting their earphones in thus subjecting the rest of to what ever poser, tosser, lame ass, weak , whingey, whiney, abhorant shite they listen to in their bleak little world. once again i reiterate fuck off!

3. women drivers in jeeps. seriously just because next door got a brand new passat doen't mean you reall have to get a new discovery that you cant even fucking see over the steering wheel let alone drive. but dont just take my word for it take the word of the poor fucker you smack into in tesco with yer bull bars on a jeep that will never even see a field let alone a bull (oh i'm sorry i meant marks and spencer god forbid people should find out you shop in tesco)

4. remixes/ cover versions. it wasn't that a good song the first time wrong but now that you've put grandious bass line in or got some bit of pop fluff you rounded up from the nearest corner shop it truely is a complete an utter waste of time energy and resources. resources that could have gone to .... oh i dont know... maybe an original idea you evil marketing bastards . just leave the works of great singers and songwriters like frank sinatra and dean martin alone you talentless little fucks. draping westlife in tuxedo's and getting them sing like they've had one too many bacardi breezers wont cut it. it just gives evil morons like luis walsh more money to fund they're "market a street urchin till they're a husk of a human being" trust.

5. reality fucking tv.everytime you turn on the tv you get "celebrity come dancing" big brother or "i used to be a celebrity now i'm just a festering bag of issues in a jungle with more has-beens or never-weres eating testicles and falling down a lot and maybe even have a shag thus giving me something to have someone write a book about when i get out.....get me out of here". seriously who watches this shit? who gives a toss about any of these people. just because ya had sex with some random guy ya met in a house under a table while potentially thousands of people watch doesn't change the fact that you are a vacuous excuse for a human being and should immediately, and i really cant stress this enough, just fuck off away from my sight. i dont care who you're shagging what your wearing or even for that matter if yer still breathing. so just fuck off

Aaaah i feel better now