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We hope you remain as amazed as we at the previous lives of Agnes DuPont!

Hello People,

It is great to be here to share with you my previous lives.

Last week I was a Sperm whale for a few hours.

I know this because I am still very partial to plankton and shed a tear at the end of Free Willy 2.

I even swallowed a man in Asda! (I was looking for dental floss. The plankton gets stuck between the teeth you see.)

He is quite comfy. So don’t worry.

You may think I am a fantasist who eats cheese late at night……….I would beg to differ.

Call me Ishmael

Regards,

Agnes

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Recently we enquired about the cost of a Safari to Kenya. “Just for two mate, not the entire cast of Hair!” I replied to the quote the sweaty travel agent provided.

As we left, we bumped into our old friend and economy traveller supreme Contour D. Klepto.

“Sell me your teeth Fightback” was his opening gambit.

I explained my predicament. He handed me a copy of his latest book “Drug Trotting – Round The World On A Stuffed Rectum”.

Chapter 7 outlined his trip to Kenya’s Masai Mara game reserve!

Day 1 – Hyde Park London – London Balloon Festival – pinch dirigible shaped like Princess Anne’s head – float towards Kent Coast. Faisal, a Moroccan shoeshine, awoke in balloon’s basket with a start.

Day 1 – The Channel – Losing height – throw Faisal out – he lands in briny – his sturdy Fez takes most of the impact.

Day 3 – France – Shot down over Marseille by scrambled French fighter jets – a balloon the shape of Princess Anne’s head is easy meat for a Dassault 125. Land in Hummus factory on outskirts of City.

Day 3 – France – Find employment in hummus factory as chick pea skinner. My naturally powerful buttocks very handy.

Day 17 France – Cadge a lift on articulated lorry carrying three thousand hummus cartons bound for Italy. My rucksack contains thirty tubs.

Day 18 Italy – Hitchhiking – picked up by former German International Footballer – Gerhard Spanker. It was Spanker who won the last gasp moustache grow off with Gary Mackerel that sent England crashing out of the 1985 World Cup.

Day 18 Italy – Arrive at Silvio Berlusconi’s Lake Como villa – Silvio having a new head stapled to his neck – Spanker falls into arms of an 18 year old busty beauty who describes herself as a wannabee lab technician seeking a cure for Alzheimer’s. She answers the phone by speaking to a fridge door.

Day 19 Italy – Bribe a policeman, with three tubs of hummus to drive me to port of Brindisi. Policeman wants to meet a girl who is lab technician seeking a cure for Alzheimer’s. I know just the girl. Kind of.

Day 20 – Stowaway on the “SS Catenaccio” which is carrying a cargo of pita breads and pre-chopped dipping vegetables to Alexandria!

Day 22 – Alexandria, Egypt – use empty hummus pots to build false camel hump – lash myself to a Dromedary which is part of a Caravan bound for Ethiopia. Surprised nobody notices me.

Day 68 – Egypt/Sudan Border – Bad breathed male camel takes a shine to me. Worrying.

Day 75 – Northern Sudan – Male camel buys me Jim Reeves CD in bizarre courtship ritual. Very worrying.

Day 308 – Ethiopian Border – Bump into Bob Geldof and Bono – they are making ham and tomato sandwiches for (presumably) starving locals – Bono is a natural spreader – great wrist action. I tell them my tale – Geldof to set up Hump Hummus Aid.

Day 309 – Geldof tells me that Huey Lewis and The News have signed up to “Hump Hummus Aid” – Bono asks me to nip to his private jet and pick up a bottle of Mayonnaise as he is running low.

Day 309 – Land stolen Bono Boeing in Nairobi Airport. Bribe Kenyan officials with three thousand rounds of ham, cheese and crab paste sandwiches – and four hand finished Cornish Pasties.

Day 310 – Hire Masai Mara warrior to guide me on last leg of journey. The narrow Kenyan roads make manoeuvring Bono’s Jumbo awkward. Pick up a speeding ticket.

Day 312 – Make it! Watch Pride of Lions eat a Tzatziki magnate. Thank my lucky stars. Discover two other things. Lions love Cornish Pasties but struggle with the music of U2.

“Give us me fookin’ Jumbo back!” Bono cries from his spare jet.

Price Comparison

British Airways

Flights; London to Nairobi – Time 10 hrs 30 minutes

2 Week Safari Package – £2,650 per person

Tight Fisted Traveller

Time Taken 7,488 Hours

Travel Costs – Nil!

You Decide!

This is an old TFT tale. He is venturing to the Antarctic at the moment and will soon relive his tale in his new book “Fuck Me It’s Cold.”

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Five hares on a morning field

Five ways to wake early

To glorious sunshine.

Spring’s clocks springing forward

Bringing me stumbling out early across the yard

My myopic squintings

Saluting the sun.

To be

Startled at the springing forward of the hares,

At their desperate hurtling away

And them disappearing into the back bog.

From where I was never to see them again.

Binoculars squinting serving only to point out

‘..the difference between a Hare

And a rock in a field?

If you see it move it’s a rock’.

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new oily

Oily,

When I look at a photo of you I think of one word. Sexy Beast. More importantly what are your views on whether Scotland should become an independent McNation.

 Jock McJock, Jocktown

McOily Replies;

Hoots Mon!

This talk of Scottish independence reminds me of a true story about Sean Connery. True in the sense that I am making it up as I go along. In 1971 Sean, George Best, Warren Beatty and I were at an 8 day Miss World Sexathon in Monte Carlo.

It was a sort of All You Can Eat buffet. And boy did we dine.

Sean told me he had very strong views on Scottish Independence, “Och aye laddie the noo. I get strongly criticised for no livin’ in shiteholes like Galashiels, but I’m fiercely patriotic. Sure I think they should build up that big wall an keep thon buggers oot. I love haggis n fried mars bar me. I have a sporran too. And bagpipes. I just prefer chasin’ skirt aroond the world likesay ya ken ya f**kin  ****. Now wheres thon Miss Thailand?”

Yes, I too worried how he morphed into Begbie from Trainspotting before my very eyes. But such was the hedonism of those days!

Scotland still has a lot of oil. Nice………….

 McOily

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Hello,

Regular readers of my lies will know I recently joined the reincarnee’s dating agency, “Have We’ve Met B4?”  (www.previouslovepreviouslives.com)

I have met a lovely man! Called Lionel.

In his previous life he was  Julius Caesar and was building Hardrian’s Wall.

Today he works in a brick factory and has built a brick wall in his back bedroom. It’s lucky he works in a brick factory isn’t it!

He regularly pours boiling oil over passers by and on Friday crucified a man who was selling flannels door to door.  The Police have had a word with him about this.  As you would expect.

He explained the misunderstanding and bought a couple of flannels as a peace offering.

I’m going round for Tea tonight. Traditional dress.  I’m a bit worried.  My hammer toes aren’t really set off by a sandal. Still hopefully the inflatable Christian I have bought from www.slaughterthereligous.com should keep his mind off my pudgy tootsies.

I am taking a sherry trifle for pudding.

Agnes

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Aunty Bill - A Tin Opener Short

 

Dear Aunty Bill

I recently became a Father for the first time. Is it normal for your first born to be a Penguin?

Dense Des,

Des Moines, Boing Boing, Idaho, USA

Aunty Bill Replies;

Dear Des,

One of the side effects of global warming is the migration of animals from their natural habitats.

Recent cases have included a women from Sale who gave birth to a whale, a young lass from Ware who gave birth to a Hare and a lady in red who gave birth to a bed.

You’ll be asking yourself;  “How did my wife meet a penguin?”

It is likely that in its long migration from colder climes, little Pingu got lost, swam up your soil stack and bit your wife on the bottom as she was performing her daily ablutions.

This is how Penguins procreate and it is likely that he mistook your wife’s rear end for a mate.

Penguins make a great addition to any family. Their staple diet is sardines on toast so they are cheap and easy to feed. Just make sure that the bath water is not too hot when you put him to bed.

Bottle feed rather than breast.

All The Best
Aunty Bill

 

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Bluebell frillary

Shoots of Barley on the hillcrest field

Wet dripping barbed wire

Silver slivers of cold Spring light

Through a disorder of branches

A palette  of greens

Smatterings of shade

Brown muddy boots

And from everywhere

Birdsong

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