We all know that one person.

That one person who’s just too nosey for their own bloody good. Too nosey, too interested in peering over the garden fence peeking at your grass and providing you one too many tips on how to improve your grass, when really they should just concentrate on watering their own grass, never mind giving you bloody advice.

Whether I attract these people, I just don’t know. But what I do know is that I know an abundance of these fuckers. Now I’m not saying I hate these people, I’m just saying that I don’t necessarily like them.

These are the people who (in my experience), are the ones providing advice on how to rear your children, when theirs are obnoxious little brats. They’re the ones spouting how their other husbands or wives would never cheat, when in actual fact, they’re shagging half of the local village and they’re the ones who’re congratulating you on your recent job promotion, offering tips on how to climb that next career ladder when in reality, their own careers never even got off the ground ten years ago, never mind fast forwarding to present day.

These are the people who boil my piss. More often than not, I simply can’t hold my tongue with these fuckers and because they’re so caught up spouting their shit, they fail to recognise my often sarcastic and lack lustre response.

Take my forthcoming nuptials to the love of my life. The love of my life is Wayne and for those that don’t know, he’s the most cracking chap you could ever manage to stumble cross. Hot, witty and very laid back, my husband to be is the hottest potato around. This bride won’t be late for her wedding let me tell you. Anyway, I’m deviating.

My point is, is that I’m already sick of these nosey arsed people telling me to do this and that on our big day. Fuck off is what I’d like to say, but social etiquette and being British, prevents me from indulging in this somewhat vulgar behaviour.

If one more person tells me where I should be going for my hen do, what colour scheme I should have for a summer wedding or how I should fashion my mane of wild hair, I’m going to take their golden little nuggets of advice and tell them to ram them where the sun doesn’t shine.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against advice being shared with me – in fact, I love it.

What I’m against is nosey little fuckers sharing their fuckery with me. It’s not the advice being shared that irks me, it’s generally the nosey fucker sharing it, that irks me.

I always liken myself to Marmite – you either love me or hate me and this is how I view the world. I either love you or I potentially hate you. And by potentially hating you, really I mean, I just don’t like you. Or your fuckery.

Dedicated to my cousins Laura Dutchak and Tamara Dutchak, who totally understand my lack of tolerance for all fuckers and fuckery related crap.

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