Look, there comes a time in a kraken’s life when she just has to stand up, scream at strangers and wave her fist in the air. That’s because, sadly, this world is populated by complete and utter gimps. Everyday gimps, celebrity gimps, blood-related gimps…you name them, I’m hollering at them. Because it’s no longer enough for me to seethe silently at wanky drivers, bite my lip at fat-handed shoppers or tap my foot at twatty children. My spleen must be vented and the venting starts here.
Anyway, if you’ve read the Hire the Kraken page you already know that before my transformation into this furious sea beast (mythical, my arse) I was an award-win…blah, blah, blah. Apart from that, here are a few choice details:
I’m a bottomless pit of fury
I share a cave with Conjugal Kraken and Kraken Junior
My toenails need painting
Rum keeps me alive
I’ve had a nervous breakdown
If my cave caught fire I’d rescue the dishwasher
I drive like an enraged twat
Childbirth rearranged my vagina
How’s that lot for starters?