The scally on a bike

This is a picture of a North Liverpool based ‘scally’ on a bike.  This scally on a bike was clocked waiting for his drug supplier at this road junction for nearly three hours.  A bit like one of those obsessive dogs that sits in the window whimpering and constantly looking into the middle distance of the direction their ‘master’ went off in, so too waited and waited our scally on a bike.

He was spotted on a journey in and then out and then back in to a part of North Liverpool, so we decided to park up and waste our time watching him like stalkers. Sad, but that’s what happens when you get out more!

Anyway, he waited and waited, nervously twitching and shuffling about. Sometimes he was holding the bike under him, sometimes leaving it to one side, but maintaining his general position.  This was how he waited with the exception of two short occasions when he cycled a hundred metres or so to a phone box. Outside the phone box he approached passers by until he’d raised enough donations to pay for a call. We assumed this call was to his drug dealer trying to hurry him up.  Immediately after each call he’d return to his holding position at the end of the road, gazing anxiously into oncoming traffic.

We were just about to go when suddenly along came his dealer in a little van with a logo on the side that was of a well-known Liverpool-wide organisation which I suspect would be mortified to learn what their vans were being used for.  The bag of skunk was handed over and finally our scally on a bike was able to cycle a further 100 metres back up to his house.  We assumed this was to at long last enjoy the high his newly acquired plants would bring.

We did a little digging in an MI5 stylee, allegedly, and discovered that the scally on a bike was (also allegedly) a late 20s son of a woman who worked in 5 different part time jobs, mainly doing cleaning and ‘domestic’ chores at minimum wage, working for over 60 hours a week.

Meanwhile her son would moan for money, which she would provide, so that he could buy his drugs and spend each and every day off his head.  She’d even buy him cans of beer and bring them home for him, he’s too lazy to go to the shops himself.

He’s never worked a day in his life, has a little form for theft which had been to support his habit before his mum took over and paid for everything, and he lives to do … absolutely nothing.

How pointless is this scally on a bike?  I can’t see why he exists.  He’s just a user.  A user of drugs and a user of his mother.  He will never amount to anything, and probably costs us all money as I’m sure he’ll be in and out of hospital and using bits of the system we pay for.

Having proved he has an extremely pointless waste of a life, if it was up to me, I’d give him one chance to defend or redeem himself, and then I’d put him to sleep.

This scally on a bike is breathing oxygen that could be being breathed by humans and pretty animals.  He is pointless and if his poor mother ever gets ill and can’t work he’ll be straight out stealing and causing more victims in order that he can maintain his stoner lifestyle.

So then.  That’s agreed then.  The scally on a bike needs to die.  He has no worth, and never will.  Let’s put him down and recycle his body as dog food. Agreed?

2 comments

  1. Is any wretched being so worthless and irredeemable; or are you purging debate.
    Superficially, I agree; and if mum gets ill, he's so witless I reckon he'd raid her purse then take her lifelong possessions down to Cash Converters (other vendors of dodgy goods are available).
    I like to think though, that if we are sentient beings, then we ought to give the guy a fighting chance. Maybe the death of his mother would be the spark to redeem his woeful existence. Or maybe his poor mother will have to use her hard-gotten wages to pay for his funeral as she mourns by his graveside.
    No matter how much we may loath his type; 'scally on a bike' has a mum. He is loved.

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