u just got back from a mad gym sesh #nodaysoff an ur proper knackered so u get on the sofa ready to watch a double helpin of jezza kyle before pornhub but then u hear ur drum and bass ringtone blastin from the nokia brik
it’s ur mate Gav (total ledge wiv the millibanter 4 all) so u pick up like “what u want dickhead” and he’s all like “brev me n th lads r at ‘spoons (they just got ther from netto, hidin in the fridges n that coz lads on tour is bantasaurus rex to th max) but Steve just sed he got mula for dayz on his nandos card, u shud come along it'l be proper cheeky”
u already went for a cheeky nandos yesteday cos u got ur paychek from ur part tim job at home bargains but u don’t think twice
grab th gel an get that bashin iced gem hair on point coz the clunge think its topkek an u want to get som gash 2nite, whack on ur gstar trakkies wiv adidas trainers and a sick hollister tank top then jump in th bantermobile (vauxhal nova w/ a mental sound system and big exhaust, bashy as fuk), get sum tunes blarin an ride to jd sports redy to meet the lads
mandem climb in an u solid banter the way to nandos thinkin bowt how hank marvin you ar whilst Smithy moans about wantin to go 2 maccers insted, fuckin pleb, and dave is proper nervous cos he about to lose his nandos virginity so it best be extra cheeky
your all there at last and th smell of that cheeky chicken almost masks th aroma of th various lynx body sprays u all got on. lad is feelin cheekier than th cheeky girls singin th cheeky song so you go for chicken butterfly and fino wiv garlic bread, mash and some top quality banter (british banter sourced from a local farm)
jezza an jay (fukin bant and dec more like) left early to go see their nan for her 30th birthday but but it was bantastic anyway. altho dave chunked up, gess it was his first time an he wasn’t redy to go to the bantomime quite yet should hav stuck with lemon and herb before steppin up 2 piri piri. u leave the lads and run into that girl kelly u fingered round th back of lidl once so u go and she givs u a gr8 nosh in the pets at home car park, finally u drive home to get some winks hopin the banter bugs don’t bite when u hav a proper nostalg dream about basil brush
Choose tomatoes, celery. Asparagus, broccoli and carrots.
Choose having your 5 a day.
Choose gardening at 6AM every Saturday and wondering who the fuck you are every morning.
Choose going down to the farmers market on weekends with all the hipsters.
Choose becoming a vegan and screeching at anyone who isn’t one.
Choose posting about your lifestyle on Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat and Instagram in the vain hope that someone, somewhere cares.
Choose longing for the delicious taste of a medium rare steak with peppercorn sauce.
Choose literal food porn, cucumber vaginal insertion, and all manner of sick vegetable related perversions.
Choose “Creating your own sustainable source of food in 10 easy steps”.
Choose growing old, bone thin and with protein deficiencies.
Choose your future.
When the knights get done jousting with the king of banterdom, and Sir Lancelot, a true legend, is like “Hark! Lads, I have a weighty purse. To nandos we must journey” And you’re all like “Hear, hear!” Thus, making sure your calves look shapely for the maidens, you all make haste to nandos for an evening of jolly japes with the archbishop of banterbury