Sunday 22 October 2006

Lady Fury

I rang Fury the other day and, (cause we get down like this), I started shouting 'oi dog breath, hollllla'. I repeated this about five times, waxing lyrical, when I clocked the girl who I was talking to was Welsh. She wasn't impressed. But I thought it was just one of Fury's mates screening her calls (cause that's how she gets down). She assured me she wasn't Fury and neither was Fury there so I said 'wrong number, sorry' and kicked back. The Welsh connection proceeded to ring my phone all day leaving messages like 'bitch' and 'leave me alone' (errr like helloooooo). When I got hold of Fury on her other number the story deepens. Turns out Fury had locked off the old number about two months ago, and no word of a lie, digit for digit, t-mobile have parred off this Welsh girl with Fury's old number. When the Welsh link rang me again, I told her she was indeed insane but should perhaps contact her mobile phone contractor if she gets a barrage of calls asking for Fury. Thankfully she hasn't rang back again and the only Welsh in my day to day life remains with Dan Stacey.

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