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About Kobe

This bloke calls, all nervous—pathetic! “Hey, mate, u free tonite?” Voice shakin’ like a soggy soufflé. I’m like, “Grow a pair, ya muppet!” Sex-dating’s brutal—did ya know 1 in 5 matches flake? Little fact for ya, ya numpty. I’ve seen it—chattin’ up some bird online, she’s all “oooh yeah,” then poof—gone! Makes me mad as hell. “What’s the matter with you?!” I’d yell if I could. Happy bit? When it works—shagged a stunner once, felt like Tony bleeding Curtis in *Brooklyn*. “You’re tearing me apart!”—nah, mate, it was glorious!

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So, we’re crunching numbers, and I’m trying to keep it light. I crack a joke about how the only thing I’m good at is eating. They don’t laugh. Rude! But then, outta nowhere, the power goes out. I’m like, “Great, just great!”

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