"I'm gonna fackin' brain you Cameron"
Morris Dancing, the age-old English folk dance beloved by men forbidden a train set by their wives, is set for a boost in the popularity stakes as the evil death cult of Zumba wanes.
Speaking to style guru Helena Knobbly-Knee, Gfb has learnt that the number of participants in Morris Troops (known in the vernacular as a “Sad of Morrisers”) has grown in the past few months. “Ya, ya,” Helena muttered through her wooden horse head, “Mowwis Dancing is all the wage this yaar. So errfy, so twibal.Vewwy vewwy exciting.”
Gimp Morrising
Trelawney Hose, Chief Bladder Basher of the St Ives Morris Troop, based in Cornwall, England, explained the growing popularity of Morris in cities, “Fiddly dee, foddly doh tippity tippity la, la, la.” He said before bashing himself with an inflated pigs bladder and then projectile vomiting the 23 pints of Throbwell’s Ringroaster he had drunk as a traditional warm up. “Fertility symbol I am,” he mumbled somewhat implausibly before staggering away, his bells peeling a jaunty refrain.
There are signs that Morris Dancing is set for a street revolution with a number of Morris “Crews” springing up in the tough ghettos of East London. MC Nonny Hay Hay, when interviewed by Gfb said, “It’s sick innit? Hey nonny nonny, nonny hey hey, aks me some respeck Bro or I’ll shank ya with me Cumberland sausage.”
"With a Sim and Slim and a Slim Salabim..."
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