Last Cunt Standing

Not Twins, they are too different. Blixen couldn’t feel her feet due to the syphilitic neuropathy. Punky keeps grabbing his ankles just to check for sensation. Blixen was a Dane who aided the resistance during the occupation. Punky would have been a collaborator before the Panzers left Ramsgate. Blixen wrote Out of Africa. Punky has been trying to get Into Africans for some time. Different.

He got clipped by a white Fiat Uno on his way up The Grassy Knoll, didn’t he?

Especially if they bring their own saddle.

CPNs are usually filthy sorts. Quite happy to go kinky early, and the best dirty talking I ever experienced. Very keen to get my injection a damn sight more often than fortnightly.

I remember that. They cut back early from Cities of Gold to show Schofe in his ball-gag weeping into the lens while Peters worked up a sweat under the desk, his occiput just visible where The Gopher usually was. The Broom Cupboard needed a good going over with Domestos that weekend. And now, Penny Crayon....

If a female cricketer gets hit on the box, what happens? Does the 12th woman run on with the magic sponge? I suspect a few lady cricketers wear their strap ons under their whites, which might mean short leg is an even more dangerous place to be. Personally, I’m still getting over the CBeebies crew being given the keys to The Crucible this year. David Vine must be turning in his grave.

Really? I’d have thought he has zero chance of getting pregnant.

The signs I saw were misspelt, too. I’ll be generous and say they were being ironic.

I was having a rather long kip in between Snooker and Cricket. No need for Diazepam here.

I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr 5.7%. Please don’t interact with me again.

Those BBC bastards kept blocking my VPN overnight, but from what I saw Ronnie is having another one of his self indulgent woe-is-me moments. What’s all this shit about Joe Davis’ book and his cue action? Pull the other one Ron. He is lucky that Kyren, who looks chromosomally oversupplied to me, is a soft cock who can’t believe he is where he is. It’s a pretty low class final so far. Ronnie will have a good session this afternoon and effectively end it as a contest.

We both know in our industry being ignored is not a new experience. I just wish I saw evidence of people challenging what they are spoon fed. I feel so sorry for those poor kids, they have naff all to look forward to.

More than two years I’ve been warning about this prick. Now look what he has done. A whole tranche of the Nations’ Youth have been fucked so hard they will never recover. They can’t even leave the country, poor sods. And all these stuffed shirts with a private education saying “I got two D’s and a U in 1975, didn’t do me any harm” are clearly as thick as they are disingenuous. What a fucking mess. Level up? Don’t make me laugh.

With apologies to Goldie Lookin’ Chain, Semen don’t sink battleships, Seaman do. And given that most Navy types wank themselves into oblivion in their months at sea, it’s a bloody good job their swimmers are no threat.

Is he the one who had the little cat puppet? Or was that David Copperfield (of Doncaster, not Las Vegas)? He was on Three of a Kind with that Cunt Lenny. God knows what happens to these people.

Duncan Norvelle was the MC at a Darts exhibition I went to 10 years ago. He died on his arse in 30 second intervals. I honestly thought he might cry when some large chap, announcing himself as Darren from the local Binman’s team, barged on to the stage and demanded he get to play a leg against the late Great Eric Bristow. Big John Lowe just shrugged and came and sat on our table for the five minutes it took Eric to beat him. Norvelle looked suicidal.

No, he’s more of a Bran Flake, to be honest.

I always felt this was the best impression he ever did. He did it again at a Sportsman’s Dinner I was at about 1994 and I damn near choked on the Beef Wellington. Simpler, happy days.

“On removing my hat, I found I had fractured my skull”. Jasper was alright. His daughter is better. i saw Jasper and Phil Cool do a two man show years back. What ever happened to Phil Cool?

What’s your stance on El Al, Ratty? I flew with them once and was quite impressed, but spent a good deal of the flight trying to work out who the Sky Marshall was. Lots of very orthodox chaps with the full Golders Green outfit on on the probable list. And I had to check in at the airport about a month beforehand, give a pint of blood and have a colonoscopy. Almost as bad as Ryanair.

I’d love you to have written that on the claim form, if only to hear Jasper Carrott read it out as his encore 20 years from now.

London is built on a lake of filthy money. If it’s not Russian oligarchs and Arab Princes chucking it about in West London, it’s HM Treasury turning a blind eye to dodgy deals at the MoD, Housebuilders lining Cabinet Ministers’ pockets, or as this week shady businessmen with good connections flogging phantom PPE for millions to a PO Box in Douglas, IoM.

I see there’s a young chap with an enormous Afro presenting the snooker on the unfortunately named BBC. John Parrott looks like he is really having to concentrate on the questions said fellow is asking, despite him having significantly better diction than your stereotypical Yoot. The other presenter is a young woman in a floral print dress who keeps reading her lines from a concealed script. Given they are all in lockdown I imagine said Black fella is letting her chalk his cue while she takes a knee. I think she’s called Seema, but I might be confusing her with a Pakistani fast bowler. What the hell happened to Hazel Irvine? It’s like CBeebies at The Crucible.

Was it Meat Loaf who sang “Two Outta Three Ain’t Bad”? Well one out of three is fucking awful. Carry on, your Worship. The place does you proud these days.

Rory Farquarson is the unfortunate fellows name, and he is spared the indignity of the Obama breakfast table by the simple fact that he’s obviously an employee, not a boyfriend. He’s a useful cover story, with more chance of landing a MOBO award than he is getting his cock anywhere near Malia.