My mate Roger got a girl pregnant when he was fourteen. He was so shit
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scared he told me, and when he said
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that her dad was a cop I thought he was joking. I told him he's got to
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tell someone, and so he went and told a teacher, and the girl eventually
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got an abortion. He was fucking shitting himself, let me tell you, but
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six months later he was fucking around like always.
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Ooh, aahh, Glenn McGrath
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"You betta watch it" I thought to myself. But Roger was pretty fucking
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sure of himself. He was the guy who first brought a block of hash to a
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party. Because I was his friend I was there when he first showed it to
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people, and we all went down the backyard and he rolled a joint. Where
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did he get it from? My parents would have killed me if they knew. I
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thought we'd all turn into junkies or something if we had too much.
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The last time I saw Roger was last year at the Boxing Day test. He'd
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turned into such a fat, normal, yobbo cunt. "The wife nearly didn't let
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me out today" he said, and he did all that chanting yobs do, like "Ooh,
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Aahh, Glenn McGrath". "It got you in the end" I thought to myself, as I
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looked at Roger. "Life got you in the end, pal. You were such a cocky,
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successful winner when we were 16, but now you're just another sad fat
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prick sitting in the M.C.G high-fiving in self-congratulation, as if its
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you that had the skill and determination to play for Australia". Its
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the cunts with the bad haircuts that you've got to watch out for.
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There's never been a popular teenager yet who's done rat's with their
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life. Its the fucking dorks that give it a real go. Glenn McGrath got
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5 for 50 that day.
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-----------------
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The Parable Of Glenn McGrath's Haircut
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| TISM |
