Every action has a reaction. Scientific fact. However, Karma is alive and well. You don't have to watch My Name is Earl to know that. I'm living proof. Last week in the afternoon, i went out for a drink with two members of this here sight. I ended up feeling slightly trollied. The thing is, that same night i was meeting my mucker for a few sherberts in the RNA club. After a nightmare tube ride from hell where my bladder had swollen to the dimensions of Phileas Foggs favourite balloon, i exited the station via the car park to wazz in a place slightly hidden from view. Most of you will know the satisfaction of releasing the held in piss. It's up there with winning shit loads of money, having a woman let you do her up the wrong 'un and burning your neighbours shed down. After producing a puddle much like a burst water main, i walked out of the car park and trod slap bang into the biggest dog shit imaginable. Now all dogs are 99 percent wolf, but this dog must have been 99 percent cuntwolf with intestines longer than the equator and a ring piece the same dimensions as Blofelds volcano entrance in "You Only Live Twice". This turd was so large you could have housed twelve families if immigrants on it with space for a pikeys caravan. Imagine my fury. I had to dig most of the shite off the treads of my shoes with a thin branch from a tree and most of the rest i wiped on a nearby bike tyre (cyclist do my head in so fuck them). Karma establishes itself. As i go to cross the road feeling slightly happier, the green man starts flashing and as i take one step, i nearly get flattened by a cyclist. Of course, i swore my head off at him and he gave me two fingers. I hope he crashed into a steam roller. Karma for wiping dog shit on a bike it would seem. In the club, there was a notorious gobshite there of rather large proportions whom i dislike. I mentioned to my oppo that i wish the stool he was sitting on would collapse, thus providing me with a laugh. After making this comment, i dropped my pint. The final straw was when i got home. The misses told me how she nearly got stung by a wasp. I told her to man the fuck up and declare war on the bastards, killing every one she comes across. I then went outside for a smoke and sat down on one of the cunting things which was dying on my garden seat. From now on, i'm going to live the life of a monk. Do these things just happen to me?