Swear box – Day 1

We have work experience types in the office all this week; being true professionals we’re going to have a profanity-free zone enforced by a rather dubious looking swear box (it’s actually a drinking glass with a makeshift Mercedes-Benz banner around the rim, don’t laugh at the word rim because it’ll cost you a quid!).

Given how much I enjoy swearing (I believe it’s an artform personally), I genuinely don’t know how I’m going to stop bankrupting myself over the course of the working week, so I thought I’d take the brass band by the horns and blog my frustration here!  Labiatastic. 

If I make it through the week without spending a tenner I’ll be genuinely impressed, so, here goes nothing!

Fucking bollocky bastard rancid twatbags!