Bristol’s Oliver Twist twists it up…
To pass some time and also create beautiful irony, smack a child round the face with a bottle of Johnsons ‘No More Tears’.
Babies on holiday, what’s that all about? A six month old in a pram on a fucking beach in Greece with a sun hat on screaming the fucking beach down cos’ it’s too hot. I wanna go over and have a word with the lines of “what the fuck are you doing here? I came here to de-stress and recharge the batteries did you? No you did fucking not. Here for a bit of sightseeing? No you fucking ain’t. Did you come here last year? Did you fuck! You weren’t even born you little bastard baby cunt face shit head, so get the fuck out before I cover you in sand.”
Can I just point out to all first time curry goers that a Shish Kebab is not warmed up cat shit with a rotting salad next to it. It’s actually a starter dish made with lamb next to a rotting salad.
Private dentists’ – you can fuck right off. When I go to get my teeth looked at, it’s not unlike being mugged at knife point for my credit card and fucking pin number. Root Canal Treatment which actually means your private dentist takes the filling out he fucked up in the first place, cleans the shit out and puts a new filling in which cost me nearly five hundred fucking quid. It would be cheaper to sit in a chair with a light above it, then have someone wearing a face mask threaten you with a drill and take your wallet and phone. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think 50 Cent and Justin Timberlake wrote a song about this called ‘I Wanna Fuck You In A Chair’ which never did make the album?
Living in Tractor Country, I have never really experienced getting smashed right in on Cider until a few weeks ago. Can I just say never drink ‘Black Rat’ from the fucking barrel in pints. To cut a long story short, I may have taken my shirt off and had a fight with myself outside the pub and lost? I don’t know…what I do remember is being woken up in a hedge the following morning by a bloke walking his dog, he thought I was dead because by this point my left foot was sticking out the top of the bush minus a shoe and sock and when he touched my foot he said it was cold. If the walk home with one shoe on wasn’t embarrassing enough, imagine my surprise when I looked in the bathroom mirror to see my fucking hair in bunches and a broken paper lampshade around my neck.
The Record for the biggest drumming session was set up by 580 musicians in Birmingham on Monday. I actually couldn’t make the event because I have a life.
An eight thousand year old home has been dug up during airport runway excavations on the Isle Of Man. I would love to see this house feature on Channel 4’s ‘Location, Location, Location! ‘A period property in need of renovation and mud removal, but the perfect retreat for adventurous first time buyers who want to live under a fucking airport’. I think it is safe to say the thing that would put most people off this property straight away though is no phone signal.
So to liven up another dull Big Brother this year they are putting some former housemates back in the house this week to take part in tasks, what the fuck for? If they really want to up the ratings, get them all to dress up as Roman Gladiators and chuck a fucking lion in there. And why do Channel fucking 4 show ‘live coverage’ of them sleeping? I would rather stick a cactus up my arse than watch that shit.
I love the story about the JLS fan who accidently shit them up by wrapping herself as a present outside their home. She was covered in wrapping paper with ‘please open’ written on it. When one of the band members pulled off the paper there was a girl underneath wearing a french maid’s outfit and nipple tassels. Fuck me, the only exciting thing on the floor outside my front door over the last couple of weeks was some dog shit… luckily for me it wasn’t in wrapping paper with ‘please open’ stuck on it…
Dan Prince throws his rattle out of his pram…
The Royal Family, love ’em or hate ’em, but they’re going nowhere. One thing that bugs me though, all of these public functions they attend and get given gifts by various Presidents, Sheikhs, Kings and Queens all around the world. What the fuck do they do with the pile of shit they’re offloaded with. The latest one happened in Berkshire last weekend. I can picture Sheikh Bin Tahnoon Al Nahyan back at his palace in Aby Dhabi preparing for his trip. ‘Right what shall we present Prince Andrew with on Saturday? What piece of garbage can I get rid of to make way for another crop of crap in its place? Oh I know, I never did like that wooden carving of the world’s largest falcon, that’ll do. Fuck me. Apparently, this was the latest in a string of wildlife given to the royal family including a brown Syrian bear, two sloths and a baby crocodile. Oh how Andy must have chortled as he opened the helicopter door and threw the wood lice ridden falcon into the Queen Mother’s Reservoir on his way home.
I see model and ‘DJ’ Lisa Snowdon is to make two parachute jumps with 118 of her radio listeners in Oxfordshire to raise money for kids. I am sure that press release doesn’t read right. Shouldn’t that be ‘jumps with ALL of her 118 radio listeners’?
Villagers have created the world’s smallest art gallery inside a disused red BT telephone box in Settle, North Yorkshire. I give it erm, one day before some kids haven’t smashed every pane of glass in the box, nicked all of the shit paintings, pissed all over the floor, shot some Heroin up and left the needles on the floor, whipped the phone out of the wall and then shit on it and then go home to watch re-runs of Catherine Tate whilst having a fag and drinking a can of Skol.
Another classic survey. Men with big eyebrows and women with full lips are more likely to succeed at work, a study has found. Now am I off the mark here, but why the fuck are we paying these people to do this sort of work? Whilst our kids are running around the streets knifing people, a huge recession is upon us, jobs are nowhere to be found and Noel Edmonds is still on the telly, why are we having to fork out our shillings to listen to cock’s like Professor Chris Solomon explaining that ‘the scientific findings clearly show how how Britons think a good leader should look’. Find me a gun and I will nail this fucker.
US singer Kate Perry I see has admitted she fell in love with our fry up’s on her UK tour last month. “I loved starting the day with a sausage”.
So Duncan from Blue has come out of the closet at last and admitted he has slept with men before. Oh, thanks for that Dunc, nothing AT all to do with getting press for your forthcoming Blue Reunion Tour and getting all the willy wuffters on board buying tickets. You might fool some people out there, but not Princey – and yes I have already bought my ticket…
This Polish women suing an Egyptian hotel after her daughter ‘fell pregnant’ after swimming in their pool, in which the mother believes someone had a sly tommy tank and his sperm mysteriously fathomed it’s way up her fanny. “I am adamant my daughter did not meet any boys whilst she was there’ she claims. Lady, this is 2009 and Noel Edmonds is STILL on the telly – wise up.
Just been on holiday. What is it with foreign breakfasts. You get up after a long night on the slog and all you want is some orange juice, a bit of fruit to get your body kicked in and perhaps a nice bit of bacon and eggs to soak up the alcohol. So why I ask you, do I have to sit at my table and watch big fat old Kojak lookalike and women with more gold on them than Cleo-fucking-patra piling on Pate, pieces of cheese, Salami, Ham, Olives and some orange looking garbage onto their plates?
I am looking forward to the Autumn sales. I have a few weddings to go to in the coming months and I am missing that last piece of clothing for my attire for the ceremonies. Thank the fucking lord then for the company Wishroom who have bought out a new £20 garment made out of silky, smooth material for men – a man bra called Bra-O. Apparently they are designed for office workers who get stressed out and will make them feel less stressed, however they only come in one size – a tiny A cup. Thank fuck I don’t work in an office.
Christmas is nearly upon us. The toy tipped to be one of the biggest sellers is a notebook made out of elephant shit. (See the Kate Perry story for relevance of not having to carry on writing here.)