Slave to the rhythm

Despite almost 32 years of evidence to the contrary - and, believe me, no one was more shocked than I to find out the truth - it has emerged that I Am Cool. For on Saturday night, I attended the UK Beatboxing Championships Final and I had a motherfucking brilliant time. (Note: if, like me, you are a fan of beatboxing, you will know that you have to say motherfucking before every single motherfucking thing you say. That's what the motherfucking kids are doing.) What was even more motherfucking cool than the abso-motherfucking-lutely incredible beatboxing was the fact that in the motherfucking hiatus between the first and second rounds, some motherfuckers in the audience started an impromptu motherfucking dance-off! A genuine one, with everyone standing around watching, wearing a face that said "I could obviously dance as well as this too, I just can't be motherfucking bothered right now." I was well impressed. Since then I've been hanging out with my motherfucking parents and tonight I have motherfucking choir practice.