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Showing posts from 2015

A Joke

What does a South Korean use to take his dog out? Oven gloves! I can't believe they eat dogs over there really, the dirty bastards, isn't it just an urban myth? Like Elvis working down the chippie, or Lord Lucan riding the winner of the 3.45 at Catterick? Or that Jeremy Corbyn was in Hawkwind and was also Father Abraham in the Smurfs? What he REALLY was in fucking Hawkwind and was Father Bastard Abraham? Are you taking the piss? Hmmmm. Gives me an idea though....Knocker, here boy, you know that new Korean restaurant in town, they're looking for a guard dog....

Rumours Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exagerrated

They've been away on holiday (yes, a-fucking-gain) and me and Knocker have been confined to Stalag 45. So there's been a distinct lack of blogging going on. (they won't let me use my iPad in Stalag 45 "for security reasons"). If that wasn't bad enough, when me Mum and Dad finally got round to coming home me Dad hit upon this brilliant new idea. To make walkies easier for him (fuck me), he's only gone and bought a length of chain about 3 feet long which attaches to the end of the flexi lead. This means that he only needs one hand to hold the lead (the lazy fucking twat). It also means that I'm permanently never more than 3 feet away from Nutjob on any walk we now go on. That's like me being in one of those prison-break movies. The sort where the nice bloke, wrongly convicted of murdering his wife (like in Shawshank) gets chained to some homicidal maniac, like Hannibal Lector or Reggie Kray. When the prison van accidentally crashes, the good guy (me)

Bikers

Went for nice walkies on the beach at Saltburn yesterday, had a great time. Apart from the town being over-run by bikers that is. What do these podgy wankers think they are? Fat, leather-clad bell-ends living in a fucking time warp, that's who they are. With their fucking wanky spotted bandanas, motorhead tee-shirts, enormous beer-bellies and fucking pathetically stupid faux viking helmets, hogging the roads, pumping out toxic exhaust fumes all over the fucking place. The roads were fucking well full of the twats out for possibly the last nice weekend of the year. Shot the fucking lot of them I say. You're not James Dean, you're a fat old twat who still lives at home with his Mum who spends half the day de-greasing a carburetor on the kitchen table and the rest in his bedroom watching porn before Mum brings him his tea on a tray. Get a fucking life, you sad bastard.

Why Did The Jocks Vote To Stay In Great Britain?

Easy, so that they'd have a team to support in Euro 2016! Woof. Well, me Mum and Dad went away again this weekend. Leaving me and Tommy Knocker in Stalag 45 for another 3-day stretch. You can't get a minutes bastard peace in that place. If they aren't taking you for a walk, they are putting you in the day run - or the gay run as I call it as there's always an Alsation or something in there that want's to hump you. It's like being in fucking Shawshank that place. It's almost a relief to get back to my "cell" with Knocker. At least he seems to have got the message that I'm no Graham Norton. Talking of whom I see that he's said he'll open his back door to let a few refugees in no problem. Give him his due, Sir Bob Geldof has said that he'll happily take a few families in as well, although with his parenting track record I'm not so sure I'd want to go there.

Alpen, And Other Jokes

Dear maker of Alpen, why don't you try packaging your product in a colander? That way we can tip even more of it all over the worktop when trying to pour it into a bowl than we do already. Cunts. Me Dad went into the supermarket the other day to buy a cheap bunch of flowers. The girl behind the counter rolled her eyes and said "Come on then, what have you done?" Me Dad said "I've just killed a cyclist in the car park." These three lads are sat in the pub when a bloke walks in, a bit tipsy, orders a pint, and stands at the bar drinking it. He looks around, see the three boys and saunters over, and says "I've sucked your Mum's tits" to the one in the middle before wandering back to the bar. They all look at each other aghast. Ten minutes later he's back "I've seen your Mum's minge" he says again to the lad in the middle, before wandering back to the bar cool as you like. Ten minutes later he's back again "I'

At Last, Some Good News For Sunderland Fans

They scored a goal, they didn't get beat, they're off the bottom of the table and Adam Johnson's girlfriend did really well in her GCSE's last week. Woof. Reports that the guards on that train that the Moroccan punter attempted to run riot on with a Kalashnikov over the weekend locked themselves into a secure area ignoring passenger pleas for help/to let them in was outrageous, but somehow not surprising considering the nationality of the individuals involved. For sale: French army officer's WW11-issue rifle, mint condition, never been fired and only been dropped once.

Why Aye It's The Monkees Like

Apparently the Monkees have reformed and are to fly to the UK to play a gig in Birmingham (or kiss my arse Brimingham as me Mum fondly calls it) in September. They were asked to perform in Hartlepool too, but the decided to pass on that one for obvious reasons. Woof.

Stephen Hawking And MrsN#1

Stephen Hawking is apparently working on a theory that he says will enable him to predict the precise location of everything in the entire universe. Which is handy, 'cos me Dad says he'd love to know where the wanker that put that dent in his bumper in Sainsbury's car park the other day lives. Woof. Me Dad was saying last night that his first missus once asked him if he fancied a bit of doctor and patient role play. So he said, go one then, I'll give anything a try the once. So he put a white coat on, sat her down and said "I'm sorry MrsN#1, but I'm afraid I have to tell you that you're morbidly obese." Which went down a storm apparently.

A Day In The Life And A Joke

Walked a bit, ran around a bit, woofed at Stumpy the postman a bit, shat a bit, woofed that the foreign looking gentleman that stuck the Dominos menu through the letterbox a bit, slept a bit - well quite a lot actually. Pissed rather a lot too. Little ones everywhere. Did a big one first thing, obviously. Then lots of small ones here and there. Looked at the clock a bit - still 4 hours to tea-time o'clock. Highlight of the day so far definitely getting a pigs ear when we got back from the walk. My mates Thomas Bell sent me another box full last week, cheers guys. You really are the kindest, nicest, fertiliser importer in the world. Gotta share them with Fuckwit though. I can't believe how long he takes to get through one, about 15-20 minutes, the tart. 1 minute, 32.4 seconds is my personal best. Fucking love pigs ears I do. They chaff a bit on the way out though. Anyway, me joke...This man's walking along the road right, and he sees this lamp in the gutter, so he picks it u

EE And Tommy

Me Dad says that when EE told him he had unlimited calls and texts that he didn't realise that they meant from people saying that they have been trying to get hold of him about his recent accident. Fuck off you twats. We've been trying to get hold of you, we've got the money, don't worry about that, just give us your bank details and we'll wang it on in there this afternoon. What, you haven't had an accident. Don't worry about that, they've coughed up anyway. It'll be our little secret. He still hasn't heard back from that son of the prince of wherever it was that needed his help to get that money out of Nigeria just after the prince was killed in that plane crash. I say, I say, I say, my guide dog's got no nose. Really, how does it smell? (Jumps) Who the fuck said that? I made that up meself. Here's another. What's yellow and cooks dogs? No, not Kim Sun Young, me Dad's car! Fucking sweltering in there is was this morning when I p

RIP George Cole

Or Authur Daley as he was better know. Fell off the back of a lorry I imagine. Dennis Waterman says he'll only go to the funeral if he can write the eulogy, sing the eulogy! The McCann's don't have a very good record in looking after people do they? Christ, these celebs are dropping like flies this week. At least George got to 90, poor old Cilla only made 72. Still at least that was more than the Aussies. Bobbi Brown, there's another one down. Black, Brown, if Pink dies this week I reckon God must be playing celebrity snooker with himself. If she goes I might have a cheeky tenner on Sarah Green to be killed by a cannon fired by Jimmy White by the weekend. What odds do you reckon I'll get on that? Woof. Yes Tommy Knocker the retarded fuckwit Lakeland Terrier is still here, thanks for asking. The brainless twat. You want to see the size of the shits he does for a little fella. He did one so large this morning that it had it's own gravitational pull, I kid you not.

Dreams...

....they can come true, according to Gabrielle. Which is fucking ace news as I dreamed that Tommy Knocker got knocked down by a fucking 30 tonne artic last night. Not that it's likely to happen as "Mr Sensitive" can't be taken anywhere near the main road can he, as he barks like fuck at everything that goes past. That's my walks to the pub fucked. Thanks Tommy Lad. It's not his fault, he's afraid, that's why he acts like that says me Mum. She obviously hasn't considered the option that he's simply a fuckin retard. Doesn't like sheep, horses, cars, lorries, the window being open, the window being shut, me Mum and Dad kissing (not keen on that one meself like, but there's no reason to kick off about it), the noise that the fridge makes when it's been open for more than 30 seconds, the noise that the washing machine makes when it's finished running. What else is there he doesn't like? Oh yeah, thunder and lightning, fucking shi

The Heat And Wimmin's Football

Fuckin hot isn't it? I've got a fuckin fur coat to wear in this bastard weather as well. Sweating like a fuckin glassblower's arse I am. Stayed up into the cool late of night with me Dad to watch that England vs Japan Wimmin's World Cup Semi Final yesterday. What a fucking disappointment that was. Not one of the England players looked like a proper lesbian or nothing. They all looked so, erm, normal. Not like the ladies in the movies, high heels, suzzies, loads of lippy, lots of make up on. They have a great old time in the showers that lot. The running around before hand bit is just a "preamble" to when the real fun starts later. But this England lot actually looked like they were enjoying the football for Christ's sake. The Japs were a different kettle of fish altogether. They did look like proper full on Tenko Cell Block H lezzers, every single on of them. I'm sure at least one or two of them had a cock. I mean why were they protecting their "s

Walkies

Went for a walk with me Mum and Dad (and fucking Tommy) the other day. We went on this canal walk that we'd never done before, so we stopped to have a look at this map that was up on a board showing where the different footpaths were and what to look out for and stuff. In the top right hand corner of the map was fucking big arrow saying "You are here" and when I looked around, that fucking was where we were! How do they do that? Big fucking brother of what? They're watching us like fucking hawks everywhere we fucking go. Then we stopped at a shop on the way back called "Sainsbury's Local" it was, and do you know what, it was at least 10 miles from our house! The cheeky twats. That's not fucking local in my book, that's a bastard long way from being local. They should get the fucking trade's descriptions people onto them fuckers. Woof. PS Tommy is still doing my fucking swede in, thanks for asking. The thick twat keeps banging his head on the

Sepp Blatter

What do you get if you cross his resignation with a Beatles song? While my Qatar gently weeps! He's going to use his time to work on his tennis game. His forehand needs some work, although his back-handers are already said to be fucking awesome. Woof.

Charles Kennedy

Has died suddenly at home, aged just 55. His family say he was a fine man, an excellent politician and a loving father. Not much of an electrician though was he?!?! Woof.

Tommy Update

What an annoying bastard. Keeps following me around, sniffing my arse. At least he hasn't tried to hump me since Tuesday. Thick as shit as well. Me Dad takes us outside, says "wee" and we do a wee and we get a bickie. Simple as. Not exactly rocket science that is it? It is for Tommy though, who just looks up at me Dad like he's speaking a foreign language or something! Does fuck all but still expects a bickie, the wanker. Well, I haven't actually caught him doing that yet, but it's only a matter of time I reckon. Talking of rocket science, we watched that Stephen Hawking film the other night, pretty good it was, even if I couldn't understand a fucking word he was saying. So I made up a little poem, here it is: There once was a man called Hawking Who got rather fed up of walking So he sat on a scooter Attached to a computer And now he lets it do the talking What do you reckon? I bet Tommy couldn't make stuff like that up. He hasn't even got

Rescue Me

Well, the dirty bastards have really gone and topped the fucking lot this time. What am I on about? Fucking Tommy that's what. We take a nice little ride out into the country on the Bank Holiday Monday. Ace, nice walk down by the river, game of stick, bit of shit rolling, what could possibly go wrong I think (mistakenly). No siree, we are going to some fucking Rescue place or something they call it. Here we meet Tommy, who they say is a 2 year old Border Lakeland Terrier cross. Not only do we have the pleasure of meeting Tommy, we bring the fucking twat home with us. I couldn't fucking believe it. Two? More like two fucking months if you ask me, the brainless twat. Tommy then proceeds to rip all me fucking toys apart. My fucking toys. They're my toys for me to fucking rip apart. The knob-end. Talking of which, he keeps trying to fucking hump me as well. There I am, lying by the fire having a nice little pre-bedtime nap, and the next thing this fucking beast is all over me l

Money Isn't Everything

Did you hear about that Silicon Valley big shot, and hubby of TwoFacedbook exec Sheryl Sandberg, aged 47 who died over the weekend? I always thought that Silicon Valley was the chasm between Katie Price's tits, but apparently it's not. Anyway, they are saying this morning that he died in a freak accident at the gym. I just hope that she doesn't forget to cancel his monthly membership fee. And I see that they've named the baby Charlotte Elizabeth Diana. I was hoping for Elizabeth Paris Mercedes - an nice mix of the old and the modern and also the answer to the potential future question in Cluedo, "what happened to granny?" Woof!

The Royal Baby

Has been placed on a life support system. Or the Civil List as it's otherwise know. Woof! I have to say I loved Boris Johnson's "Ajockalypse Now" quip over the weekend. He's me hero! Unlike Nicola Surgeon, what a sour faced boot she is. I still think "she's" a trannie. Still, I always did wonder what happened to the Queen Mother's teeth, didn't you? And now we know, Nicola Sturgeon appears to be wearing them, she must have bought them on eBay or something. She's married, according to Wikipedia, to some poor bastard called Peter Murrell, Poor old Pee Wee Murrell, imaging waking up next to that monstrosity ever morning, without it's protective 3 inch thick layer of foundation. I'm sorry, I'll have to go, I'm suddenly feeling a bit queasy....

Fuck A Duck

Keith Harris is brown bread I see. That's the duck fucked then isn't it? Actually, thinking about it, he's probably relieved that he won't be getting that sweaty mitt shoved up his ring piece ever again. No wonder he had such a high pitched fucking squeak. Woof.

Nepal

I got an email in this morning asking if I'd like to support Nepal. I didn't even know they had a football team. What division are they in? Woof.

Bear Grylls, The Marathon And Wonga

Bless me Father, it's been three weeks since my last blog...watched that Bear Grylls programme with me Dad last night, the one where there's about a dozen people stranded on an island trying to survive on their wits (if they can find them). There's a "man" island and a "woman" island. The men are out setting crocodile traps, whilst the women on the "woman" island are all lying on the beach moaning about how thirsty they are, and how dehydrated they are. And they are all lying in the fuckin sun not the shade! The brainless fucking tarts. Then a storm comes over and it starts to lash it down, so what do they do? That's right, they all stand up with their mouths open and their tongues hanging out FFS. Don't bother trying to collect any of it, just open yer bastard mouth and see how much you can quench your thirst and dehydration that way. Oh, and don't bother trying to protect the fire from the rain. The fire that it took you three bas

Joni Mitchell And Sausages

"Singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell is in intensive care after being found unconscious at her Los Angeles home," say the BBC. Doctors are mystified as to what's wrong with her, and say that they probably won't know what she's got 'til she's gone. Woof. Still, at least the hospital get a new parking lot out of it. Yes, as you've probably guessed by this point, I'm bored shitless again today, still it's now only 10 minutes to tea-time, and I know that there's a sausage in the fridge with my name on it. I love sausages, they're just so "sausagey" aren't they? Nogger's dog's top five foods, hmmmm. There is indeed food for thought....5) sausage 4) double sausage 3) sausage and gravy 2) double sausage and gravy 1) sausage, sausage, gravy, sausage and gravy.

That Pilot Bloke

People that knew him say he was a bit of a loner with few friends, full of his own sense of self importance, a bit of a bombastic twat who thought he was always right and a sombre fucker. Or a German as me Dad calls them. Woof.

Did You See The Eclipse?

Shite wasn't it? We didn't have any of those funny glasses, so me Dad looked at it through a colander, just like they said to do on the BBC website. Now he reckons he's strained his eyes. Woof. Of course we weren't in Jockland, to get the best view of it, thankfully. I'd be surprised if anyone up there even noticed it. "It's going to go a bit darker and colder than normal" - not a lot to go on if you're a Sweaty Sock there is there? It does that every fuckin day up there. This Jock moves to London looking for work. After about a month he goes home to visit his Mum in Glasgow. "Well, our wee Hamish, how's London then, so it is?" his Mum asks when he gets home. "Nae too bad Ma, except the bloke in the flat below me keeps bangin on his foockin ceiling all day and night, and the wee lassie above me screams and wails constantly, it dee's me fookin heed in it dees," he says. "Try not to let it bother yee too much, just ig

The Eclipse And Stuff

Why do the Sweaty Socks get to see more of it than we do? Well, when I say "see" from what the BBC say it's gonna be cloudy as fuck up there tomorrow (just like yesterday and the day before that), so in truth they'll get to see bugger all - hahahaha! Stick that you Sweaties. Can't get rid of the fuckers can we? Give them their independence, now that the price of oil has come down, that's what I say. And the Welsh, they can frack off as well. Do you remember Max Boyce? What a boring Welsh twat he was. About the only Welsh punter who's ever done anything decent is that bloke who pissed off to Patagonia and set up a mini-Wales down there - that's about the sort of distance I like between me and the Welsh, thousands of fucking miles and a vast area of ocean.

Jeremy Clarkson

Has been suspended I see. He must have done something that even the BBC found to be totally inexcusable, So obviously therefore we can rule out child abuse. Woof.

The Beauty Parlour

That's where the bastards took me this week. Came out all shorn and smelling like a tarts window-box I did. Not to worry, I'll be rolling in shit the very first opportunity I get, you can rest assured about that. The woman in their commented to me Mum and Dad that I was getting a bit portly and that she had difficulty in lifting me up - the cheeky mare! She obviously hasn't glanced in the mirror herself lately. No stranger to the cake shop that one if you ask me. I think that we might have to take our business elsewhere next time. I mean, supposed you went for a haircut, and after the "have you got anything booked for your holidays this year" conversation things drifted down the "Christ, you've let yourself go a bit since you were last in, haven't you love" route? You're in there for a fucking haircut, not a life coach. And IF she's so fucking clever what's she doing running a fucking beauty parlour for dogs anyway? Maybe all the rock

Missing Cat Found

Me Dad saw this poster on a nearby lamp-post whilst taking me out for a walk this morning, so he pulled it down and took it home, and then rang the people concerned. The conversation went like this. "Hello, are you the people with the cat who went missing, Tiddles?" They said "Yes, we are, have you found him?" Me Dad said "Yes, I think I have, I think I saw him whilst out walking the dog this morning." They said "Wow, are you sure, was he mostly a tabby but with two black front paws and two white ones at the back?" Me Dad says "Yes, I do believe that he did!" They said "Great, now think carefully did he have a little white ruff on his chest, about the size of a 50 pence piece?" Me Dad says "He certainly did yes. And a white ring around the tip of his tail as I recall." "Wow, really! Amazing! That's him alright, wearing a snazzy yellow collar was he?" Me Dad says "No, sorry, the cat I saw in the ski

Daniel Sturridge

Why, oh why does he persist in doing that embarrassingly stupid wanky little "dance" whenever he scores a goal? Doesn't he know it makes him look like a complete bellend?

This Bloke Right

Goes into B&Q and says "the missus keeps going on about this bloody Fifty Shades of Grey film, have you got any rope and duct tape?" The guy behind the counter says "sorry mate, we've had a bit of a run on them since that came out, we're completely sold out." The bloke says "OK then, give us a chain saw and some bin bags." Woof. Fucking cold today isn't it? That pavement's fucking freezing you know. It's all right for you lot with yer fucking shoes on. You fucking pansies. My little paws are frozen solid. Still, it's nice and warm and snuggly on me bed. A fucking king sized double that's what I've got, with me own special blanket on it as well. Me Mum and Dad say that they put that on there to keep the winnets off the duvet. The cheeky buggers. Winnets. Noun. The semi solidified pieces of faeceal matter encrusted to the hairs around a dog's ring piece. syn. Bum crumbs, Klingons.

Lenny Henry Confesses All

The world of light entertainment has been rocked today by Lenny Henry's shock confession that he is a completely talentless twat. "Lenny felt that he was unable to hide this terrible truth from the public any longer," said his agent. The startling revelation sent shock waves around the BBC and ITV that other similarly talentless wankers might also break strict Equity rules and 'fess up that they are afflicted with the same tragic condition. Recent Mintel research suggests that as many as 2 in 5 celebrities could be secretly concealing a total lack of ability to do or say anything half fucking sensible. Holding back tears "a day comes when you can't just say 'Katanga' in a stupid voice and get away with it any longer, and that day is here today," Henry told reporters outside his London home. Dawn French was unavailable for comment.

Airline Food

I'm bloody sick of it. Said the Malaysian shark! Woof. Sarah Ferguson says that Prince Andrew is "a great man". And she can arrange for you to meet him for only 50 grand. Stephen Fry is getting married I see. I'm glad he's finally found the right girl. I always though he was a bender. Knock, knock. Who's there. Deja. Deja who? Knock, knock......

Hmmmmmmm

This Prince Andrew thing. What's the betting that it's only a matter of time before this Virginia Roberts has an "accident" in a tunnel and Elton John is re-releasing Candle in the Wind for her? Prince Philip says "I'm standing behind him, as long as he hasn't done it with any darkies, I don't see what the problem is." Sarah Ferguson say's that she's giving Andrew her full support. Which is a bit like Katie Price backing Ched Evans really isn't it? Woof.

Wankers

People who drive around town in cabriolet cars with the fucking roof down in the middle of winter when there's frigging frost on the ground. Are they a) taking it to the garage to be repaired because the roof is stuck in down mode, that's why they are wearing scarves and hats etc, I mean they'd have to be a complete wanker otherwise wouldn't they? or b) complete wankers?