One of those rolls

To the parents of the kid
wondering why she hasn't
noticed the stuffed toy
falling from her hands:
She inherited your genes,
and you look like a fine pair
of docile cunts.
Those parents who go at it
too young because
some shite on the television
suggested it was the done thing.

That and all the rest of them:
The shrivelled Asian chap
who has applied himself so well
he's desperately trying to hand out
leaflets for a pizza takeaway.
The woman who blames the socket
before actually turning the device on.

The dead father in an urn on some cunt's shelf,
sitting back whilst my miniscule £10,000
is turned in to another family holiday
for another family.
Christ, I'm bitter today.

I haven't even got to the parents
of multiple children,
those fuckers who don't seem to mind
the vast development of queues.
For you, breeders:
Everytime you're stood at the bar
and it takes a while to get served
through the mass...
That's your fault,
and if you keep going at it,
you're going to have to get used
to waiting longer.

Ahhhhhh.

Oh no, don't forget the swaggers.
Dressed like shit, with a living weapon
on a lead.
Sadly inflicting ears with your ludicrous twangs.
The groups of kids from a country
of wisdom, now set to the mimicry
of mainstream, black America.
For fuck sakes,
I'll beat you all to death
with a heavy book,
something with some weight to it.

I'm done, the hangover
is loosening its grip on me
and the pub opens in ten minutes.
Cheers fuckers.