After a hiatus lasting almost all of 2015, Davey chapped my windae again the other day. I hate it when he does this, because its almost like the cunt doesn’t SEE the door. Right there in front of him. Being a door.
After brief negotiations (mainly involving him threatening me with various armbars if I said naw) I decided to put this stupid shite on my stupid site, because fuck it. If it goes viral and gets a lot of views, I get to claim them as my own, while Davey dwells in his skants wae two bullets in his skull. Its not difficult to murder a cunt when you are very aware of his cartoon watching schedule. Here’s Davey….
Men lie. Women lie. Numbers don’t. As much as there is a little buzz about Martys writing, his numbers are at a low. People just aren’t reading. His clicks are down, his views are down, and his heids went down anaw. Even last gasp attempts at breathing life into the blog have failed, like bringing in Mick Foley, cause he obviously seen how that saved TNA when they were in a similar predicament. Anyway, he’s feeling pretty down about it, and that’s where I step in. He’s dropped the ball, and when you need a helping hand, you look to the kliq. His number one amigo, numero uno pal, his hermano from another mammo. He’s too proud to reach out and ask for my help, so I volunteered. I invited him up for a meeting so I could pitch some writing ideas I think would revive the site, and recorded it all on my dictaphone so I could listen back later and get writing. Here is the transcript from that meeting, I had his maw type it up.
DAVID: hey friend, so lovely to speak to you
MARTIN: fuck up prick, whit ye wantin, prick
D: hey, sorry, was just wondering if I could maybe pitch you some article ideas I have?
M: pitch? Just write the fu…
D: yeah like I could run some ideas by you and you tell me if they’re worth fleshing out into articles?
M: don’t interrupt me prick, and just write the full articles and then I’ll decide if I’ll run them or not.
D: but won’t that be a waste of time? If I spend hours writing something and it’s not worth it?
M: what did I say about interrupting? And nothing you ever write is wo…
D: you were done talking
D: I didn’t interrupt, you finished the sentence, it was my turn to speak. I interrupted you this last time because it’s time i stood up for myself
M: get out my office.
D: this isn’t an office, it’s a living room. My living room, I might add.
M: listen prick, I’m a busy man, just hurry up
D: well I had this idea right, I’ve prepared some questions, I’m gonna go to Chris Renfrew’s midden and do a proper in depth, lengthy interview with him
M: awful idea. No one would ever read that. In fact, give me that list of questions, I am consficating them so you never revisit this dumb idea again.
D: is that your phone ringing?
M: aye haud on……HULLAW…..oh hiya, yeah I’m not busy, the thing I’m doing right now isn’t even notable, please continue……
D: who is it?
M: haud on gaz…..whit you sayin prick?
D: who is it?
M: it’s Gary Henderson, the sweetest human being who ever lived, now fuck up and let me speak………hey Gary babe sorry about that, just that cunt Daniel being a prick……..yeah I suppose he is haha……yeah you can ask me anything mate………haha well I’ve never had one that big before but I’d try it for you……..yeah but don’t get it in my beard cause it goes really sticky when I try to wash it off…………aye I suppose the attitude era wis shite……..you wanna write an article about it? Great idea!! Great energy, calling me up and pitching an idea instead of just going ahead and writing the article, very considerate……..no just give me however many words you want……ok I love you too, big kisses through the phone! Haha! Bye mate.
D: that the new guy?
M: he is my best friend and I love him, you by wasting my time yet? I wanna go make a drawing for Gary
D: well I just have a couple more ideas but I might take them elsewhere now
D: are you even listening?
D: are you texting him poetry?
D: you gotta get out my house. I AM OFFICIALLY WORKING MY NOTICE. TAKE YOUR FUCKING WEBSI…..
The tape cuts off there, things got physical and the dictaphone got broken somewhere in between my second armbar and fourth kimura. He got absolutely no offence in at all. Anyway, I stand by my statement. My next post for Snapmare Necks will be my last, as I step down both as a staff writer and as co-owner. I’ll go into more detail in my final piece, but I just want to thank you guys, the fans. No matter how many times Martin tried to keep me down, you guys got behind me, you chanted my name, you showed the guys in charge that you wanted me in the main event. You guys got behind me in a way that I never thought was possible, more than I ever thought you could for a guy who was 5-8 and 190 pounds. You guys got behind me in a way that made me feel like I was more than just me. I am grateful. #ThankYouDavidCurren
A few points. 1. My office is actually my bedroom. Davey likes to paint this like its me that makes his life difficult on a day to day basis, when in reality I’ve missed from 15-20 important life events cause this cunt comes in here every Friday, parks his narra erse in ma chair and refuses to leave for a period lasting anything from 1 to 48 hours. I can have the full tin flute on, fluted and booted, with a t-shirt saying “I have an important business meeting to get to!” on and he still widnae get the hint. The reality is he ruins my life and threatens me with physical harm if I don’t put these things up. No matter how insulting they are to me personally, he tells me its “not as insulting as walking about wae two broken legs ya specky prick” and I know he could break ma two legs mate. He knows sharpshooters.
Thanks to David Curren for the words, and big thank you to me for murdering him, thus sparing us all fae his fuckin shite in the future.