Yes YOU, in the lumo fruits of the loom, with a very apt toxic shade of mane to match, preying on my conscious and purse in equal measure.
You have been the bane of my errand runs, most days for the last two years... and for the thousandth and final time, I do not wish to save the fucking grasshoppers!
(or whatever is is your making me feel so god damn guilty about.)
You seriously cant take 10 paces without one of these pedestrian pouncers, quizzing you on how much your coffee cost.
...Its my fucking money! If I wanna spent £2000 on a Gucci latte I will!
These 'fund raising' cretins, will tell you just how lovely your hair is and just how cool your shoes are, before they claim, '30 seconds is all they need'.
...Do these guys actually hear what they're saying?!?
They may look like they've been on a G-foce roller-coaster for the last 24hours (Im surprisingly not referring to their scruffy barnet's now, only those ridiculous Barney-the-purple-dinosaur grins). But do not be fooled by the crazy *dances* and the (please don't do it again) 'hop, skip and a jumps' into your personal space.
This is just decorative fucking harassment!
I swear to God, I only left the house for freaking Fish Cakes and Green Beans, and I return with full frontal, mouth foaming, Homicidal rage!
Just to clarify... im not some crazy Anti-Charity storm trooper.
There are some wonderful life changing Foundations out there, that I have and will continue to support.
But sure as eggs is eggs, I will not be distributing my bank detailer on the high street!
Just cut the crap and jingle a bucket... you'll get helluva lot more dollar outta' me.
And above we have some beautiful fine-art duoness with the the delightful Miss Camilla Rose Healey (*Hello killer rack!*)
taken by Edinburgh's finest... Britalicus.
Have a successful chugger dodging weekend.
WithLove a rather rambly Raphy x