FRASIER

int: Studio

Frasier: And that, Maureen, is why your marriage will fail.

Maureen: Cheers. But I phoned about my problem with a potato phobia.

Frasier: Same thing.

Maureen. It really isn’t.

Frasier: Well, why don’t you stuff that potato in a pipe and shit it at a fucking wall, yeah? Get off the line, broad, I got some wanking and sicking to do.

Maureen: But..

Frasier: FUCK OFF. Oi, Puncture Womb, who’s on the line?

Roz: Nobody, you’ve alienated all the callers.

Frasier: Fuckin’ jerkoffs.

Roz: We’re still on the air.

Frasier: Yeah, well I am getting my cock out in the afternoon sun. You coming?

Roz: No.

Frasier: Starch tits. Fucked up Shit little.

Roz: What?

Frasier: Nothing, you cunting boil. I’m off.

——————————

INT: Park:

Frasier: Fuckin’ ace. Bit of sun, no cunt annoying me, dad’s at home with his shit dog and stick, Niles and Daphne are fucking in a dog’s shelter, and me, I’m about to knock one out on this knothole.

Park Warden: OI!

Frasier: Yeah. *Starts to wank furiously*. WHAT?

Park: What are you doing?

Frasier: I’m pruning the fuck out of this cunt.

Park Warden: You’re masturbating into that knothole. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

Frasier: You’re a prick. It’s not as if it’s complaining.

Park: Look, fuck off you sick shrink fuck.

Frasier: Yeah, I’ll go. Have this. *Lobs a potato at the park warden, which smacks him on the head.* Fucking have a nice day, park boy.

Park: W: OI!

Frasier: SHIT, still got my trousers down.

————————————

INT: Home.

Frasier: Jesus, glad I got away from that cunt. Nice to be home.

Eddie: Bark.

Frasier: Alright you canine prick? Where’s the grey shitter?

Martin: Hey Frase.

Frasier: Thanks. You’re not dead yet then?

Martin: Apparently not.

Frasier: Yeah, well, won’t be long now. How come that cunt’s still alive? *Points at Eddie*

Martin: Er…

Frasier: It’s 2013. He was old in 2004.

Martin: Some sort of genetic thing.

Frasier: He’s a cock. So are you. I’m going to the kitchen to cook this man’s fist I found in the park.

Martin: Sigh.

Frasier: SHIT ON MY FOAM CUNT YOU SLAG.

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About neilstilwell

Abseiling into trouble, a sewer rat staring at the stars. Disgusting. You can assist my search for the one ring by buying a Kindle version of this diary from here. http://www.amazon.co.uk/frozen-fridge-Zoomeister-Diaries-ebook/dp/B00C426DD0/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366481719&sr=8-1-spell&keywords=a+frozen+turd+in+a+hot+frudge It has some other stuff in it, and a dreadful cover.
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