F***ing Tourettes

Off the small ladder he fell. Fuck off! Followed, bastard, by the loud thud that was inspired by his person. Gobshite, excuse me - His body, slightly shaken and, fucking spunk, involved with the concrete on a intimate level was an unpleasant sight. Areshole (that one was voluntarily). Stained, his trousers were, cu- no, not the c-word: erm...fuck! yes, fuck, with the fluid from his (no need for it here) penis. Adrian, the fukin' name i give him, rose from the broken pavement and looked at the world. Bollocks. He was much taller than the average man, by at least five feet for that matter,fuck me dead, and dispute his, fuck off, unusual height, his intelligence was suprisingly inferior to that of the average bear. It was obviously, fuck-arse-bitch, help he seeked and although the weather suggested otherwise, Adrian had a torrid time, sweet lord Jesus. It was already, fuck fuck fuckity fuck, an unfortunate circumstance for an intellectually challenged bear to have found himself named, clothed, oversized and, fuck off- leave me alone and die, in pain, but for him to be the focus of eyes that were so indulged not in his person but in his disturbing surrounding made it difficult. Extremely fucking (voluntary) difficult.