Work ethic.
That used to be more than a misnomer at some stage. Not anymore.
I understand contraction and expansion and all that jazz - and I know there could have been a weak spot or small chip - but please tell me how some dipshit manages to crack my windscreen (from the top all the way to the bottom) while washing it? And then, more importantly, has the balls to tell ES she's lying: there was always a crack in front of the driver. Right in front. Of the driver. We just never noticed it.
Listen, Son-of-Bitch: I'm insured. Yes, I am expected to shell out R 550-00 excess thanks to you. But I know you earn peanuts, and wouldn't have taken the food from the hungry mouths of your family.
Had you just said: Missus, Ah fucked up. Sohry.
But turn around and lie about it? What? Were you conceived in a clown car during the matinee?
People like you, dear Dickhead, are a waste of chromosomes. There are several people - good, kind people - who've been robbed of full functionality by the luck of the draw. Couldn't you just become the first chromosome donor?
You're not using yours anyway.
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