Stitch up a stag

He had it coming


If your at a loose end this weekend try slipping a stag rohypnol and taking his car on a crime spree.Ram raiding,running speed cameras,parking in the mother & baby space at Tesco(well naughty).
The first the pointy headed deer shagger will know about it is when he gets £300 worth of fines through the post,his clubcards been cancelled and Mr Plod knocks his door wanting to know why there's 26 cases of Malibu and 2000 Kit Kats in his garage.
Stags they're always winding me up.

The nightmare of welsh llamas

Chaplin you dosser,hands off

I've just spent a fortnights holiday relaxing inside a conductors hat on the Elephant & Castle bus route in merry old London town.Accomodation was top notch,nice head of hair,it was like sleeping on a shredded wheat thats been soaked in the bile of a curious emu.A good wide brim made the perfect sundeck and was ideal for viewing the many wonderful sights of our great capitals wrinkled downy undercarriage.
There's the street corner where Churchill shot Lenin,the shopping centre where Charlie Chaplin broke his 15 year vow of silence the day Scotland yard arrested him for nicking pens in WHsmiths,"What the f**k do I want with a poxy biro you c**ts"were his exact words.And finally the swimming pool where I once lost a tooth in a bet with a llama over who had the softest coat.The long necked jizz supper thought he had me all ends up until I emerged from the changing room resplendent in my crombie,fashioned as is the trend these days from the ballbags of a billion tiny mice.Well he went ballistic and headbutted me the lairy tart,still a fivers a fiver and llamas,like the welsh have always had a reputation as a hostile breed.(Do you know a welsh llama you could have a quiet pint with-thought not.)
It was a good 2 week break but I could have done with a bit of sun so next year I'm booking a weeks hiking in Spain staying in various crisp packets and dogs ears along the coast.
Ciao for now freakblankets.

The Lion,the Witch and the Y-fronts

Narnia,that happened to me the other day only on a slightly smaller scale.The wardrobe was my underwear drawer,the lion was a woodlice and the white witch was a disorientated moth lured by a pair of 80's style dayglo socks.It took a while to get them fighting and I had to help the woodlice out by chinning the moth with one of the empty bottles of absinth I had laying around but true to the tale we triumphed and I was crowned king of pants.
Embrace literature my friends or evermore feel the overbearing wingbeats of the moth of oppression.
...If your looking for some kind of hidden meaning in any of this I'm telling you now,this aint the Da Vinci code sunshine.