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Posts Tagged ‘Black Humor’

Hi Kids,

Christmas can be a tricky time for opiate users!

cupboard crackhead copy

 

My former dealer Dinsdale used to pack up shop and head off to the lovely island of Santorini to help an archeological dig over the Holiday period.  Always good to have a hobby don’t you think.

Anyway as my supply of Class A’s dried up for a few days I was forced to use my imagination as to what to snort, sniff, inject or smoke to attain an alternative level of consciousness.

So, if you find yourself stuck this yuletide in the search for narcotics heaven, here are a few ideas;

  • Snort a bauble
  • Smoke ground up tinsel (the hallucinogenic quality of tinsel has long been overlooked.)
  • Rob a neighbour
  • Place a large Turkey on your head and breathe its decaying fumes After 4 days the high is extraordinary!

Christmas Crack Pudding is lovely too.  Make sure it is locally sourced though.

Merry Christmas!

Peace and Love

Uncle Crackhead

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Gingerfightback’s Hugh Pugh-Barney-McGrew was interviewing the heir apparent about his love of courgettes when Chas blurted into the microphone,

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Defender Of The Sausage

“I’m sick of these Jock arsewipes moaning about how hard done by they are.  Mama forces One to traipse around some God for-fuckin-saken heather moor singing like Moira Anderson’s castrated cousin about,”Weee misty ooop the skelter” or “dinnae na bricht ma panty liners” whilst me knackers are frozen. Kilts are for C*nts who eat deep fried Mars bars, drink deep fried Lager and wear deep fried Shellsuits.

Braveheart? One’s arse.

If I have to hear “500 Miles” by them speccy Proclaimer bastards again I’ll get Mama to fellate Gordon Brown in the fuckin’ Tower. Bathgate no more – thank fuck – Shitehole – Alex Salmond? Lying Jock wanker. Leave old slaphead Robinson alone! Nick may be an arse bandit and Establishment lickspittle but he’s my arse bandit and my lickspittle. Caber tossing bastards…..”

He then hopped over a fence to steal a pair of women’s knickers that were on a rotary dryer in the balmy Edinburgh air.

 

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“One’s Always Been A Thong Man!”

 

 

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Tony-Blair

Narcissistic loon Tony Blair has called upon President Obama to bomb Glasgow as he is convinced the Islamic State has gained a foothold in the land of the Kilted.

As he told GFB,

“I was with the Chairs of RBS, Barclays, BP and Halliburton explaining how to create the conditions for peace via slaughter, when I was handed a dossier entitled “Al-Alex Salmond Plans to introduce Deep Fried Islam to Scotland.” It’s all true because the dossier came in a nice plastic folder and had some pictures in it. One showed the Glasgow Rangers ground with a bloke with a beard sitting in one of the seats. What more proof do you need?”

slamond3

Is He An Islamist?

So, I called me old muckers Bill Clinton and George W to see if the Yanks could strike and y’know what? They never returned my call! Me! After all I’ve done for America!

"Cos We're Worth It!"

Didn’t bother with Obama – never liked fellas who are rational.

But mark my words – Scotland will be the next Islamist bolthole.”

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NANSTACK in Basildon

Ian Drunken-Spliff – Secretary of State for Knobheadedness has employed IKEA to develop a revolutionary stacking system to warehouse Pensioners.

The system, known as “NANSTACK” is believed by Drunken-Spliff to offer a radical new way of reducing adult care costs.

Ian Drunken-Spliff

Drinken-Spliff said, “Like the cripples and dossers who are ruining this country, old fuckers clog everything up from hospitals to buses. It needs sorting. NANSTACK is a highly efficient way of housing these old farts. They will be tightly packed to keep warm – important as there will be no lighting or heating thus demonstrating our Green Credentials! It also cures loneliness! Furthermore think of all the houses freed up for Buy t0 Let Landlords like me to snap up! Am I a fuckin genius or what!”

Drunken-Spliff then went for a shot of morphine.

As the pictures below show, Pensioners can be loaded onto lorries for transit to the stacking centres prior to the allocation of their cosy shelf!

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War War 2 hero Derek Sponge receives the gratitude of a nation

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Derek being lodged @ NANSTACK Worthing

Per Abba-Arrival from IKEA told Gfb’s Lucy Gammon, “The trials have gone well. The only sticking point is the amount of mince per meatball in the daily feeding.”

Anita Dayglow OBE, Chief Executive of Elderly UK told Gfb, “Do you want to buy a raffle ticket? First prize is a blanket!”

 

We Are All In It Together

 

 

 

 

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bobonthepot_Cosmopolitan
Hello,

The Ice Bucket challenge has become a global phenomenononon.

Dipso Dave did it in the Recalcitrant Peacock on Saturday night and then spent the night in hospital. Nothing to do with the bucket of ice water. Teach him to leer at my lovely wife Shirley.

Any road up, as Saturday night’s Bhuna began its journey to the Sewage plant I wondered how this Ice Bucket Challenge would develop.

As the match flickered and snuffed out the final whiff of my ordure, the idea came to me.

Checking that there was no floating debris, I donned a pair of googles and a snorkel.  I told Shirley bring the camera to record my efforts. I placed my head in the bowl.

On my command she flushed. With gusto. Time and again. Remarkable wrist strength.

My head became firmly wedged in the bowl necessitating the Kent Fire Brigade to attend our home to (as the report said) “extricate from the upstairs toilet, a fat bloke wearing goggles and a snorkel who had managed to get his head stuck in the bowl .”

Thank God for the snorkel or I could have come to a sticky end.

Just watch Bowl Dunking catch on! Plays havoc with your ballcock though.

I nominate Justin Bieber, The Islamic State and Katie Hopkins.

Go on it is for Charridee after all.

 

 

 

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Gfb has learned that Payday loan company Wonga are to set up Foodbanks in England.

Ian Drunken Spliff

The move has received the backing of the Secretary of State for Work and Fuckery, Iain Drunken-Spliff who said, “People can borrow a few quid off Wonga whilst picking up their beans and stale Frosties.  Wonga will seize the food in lieu of payment. If you don’t pay – you don’t eat! This will sort out obesity as well! Skinny and destitute – sounds like a plan to me!”

Drunken-Spliff then went for a lie down. And a shot of morphine.

Plans for Wonga to administer the Benefits system are well advanced. Benefits will become loans – With an interest rate of 4,678% per year the National Debt will be cleared in next to no time!

 

Gimp Morrising

 

 

 

 

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Sargent_Stench_MctavishHello,

As ex-special forces I can kill using trapped wind.

In my book – life behind enemy lines in Iraq – “It’s Not Invasion It’s Liberation,” – I recount a story of Death by Bloat.

Here is an extract…..

“The Lethal Force Action Group were struggling. Sweat rash had laid Fungus Thompson out and Sniffer Tomkins and Jellytits O’Loon were  beginning to wilt.

Food supplies were running low. We were forced to lick eachother’s Athlete’s Foot for sustenance. On a good day I would give the lads access to my Veruccas. They are laden with protein.

My field training allowed me to make a tasty Athlete’s Foot/Verucca soup. To add flavour I used the chicken stock cubes and herb garland (Tarragon, Rosemary and Bay Leaf) I carry in my Ammo Belt.

The lads lapped it up!.

……………………………..Finally, after days of searching we came across the enemy compound. The Bad Lad from Baghdad was singing along to a Justin Bieber DVD warbling, “Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby” only in Arabic. ‘Cos he was an Arab.

I could smell soup. Vegetable soup. In less hostile times I would have volunteered my stock cubes and a dunk of the herb bouquet.

But I was here to serve my country, kill foreigners and find the gold bullion.

Gurkha Tenpin-Bowling reccied the compound and our one legged Sioux Brave, Itchy Scalp performed a rain dance (Footloose meets Dirty Dancing via The Exorcist).  I inched my way in. The Bad Lad from Baghdad was one mean looking compadre but had engrained gravy stains running down his shirt which lessened his evil visage.

I had to think. Fast. On my feet. I disguised myself as a bowl of soup. Well, more of a broth actually – but you get the gist….

soup_mctavish

The bowl containing me was placed on the table accompanied by lovely crusty bread rolls. Seeded.

I reconstituted myself and bamboozled the Bad Lad from Baghdad with cries of “Baby, baby, baby, baby” a la Bieber. He really was a Belieber judging by the posters on his walls.  I then used the trapped wind death grip on him.

The poor lad was a goner.

It turned out that he was not a Bad Lad from Baghdad, but Baghdad’s leading (only) Justin Bieber impressionist who recently had appeared on Iraqi TV’s “The Sunni and Shia Show” and was in town to sing at a local warlord’s surprise birthday party.

The bullion? No trace of it I’m afraid……….

beiber_sausage

 

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