Moby Dick Makes Me Sick! By Agnes DuPont

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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Arts Scene – With Terry Cotter The Potter

Hello,

My name is Terry Cotter. I’m a potter.

I have been potterising for nearly two decades now. I stock a wide range of ceramic goods in my shop The Potter’s Reel, down here in Lower Swell. The shop is named after my potter’s wheel which goes round and round. Like a reel.

Here are some reviews of some of my favourite bits from the world they call “Art”.

1. Painting

The Last Supper –  Da Vinci’s masterpiece. The last supper I had was a cheese sandwich and a slice of pork pie. Very tasty it was although the pork pie repeated on me for a while and the cheese gave me nightmares.

2. Movies

Exodus – Batman takes the Jews on a long walk. Goes on a bit.

3. Literature

Little Women – Louisa May Alcott’s book about midget females. Lacks lesbian love lust. Goes on a bit.

4. Musicals

My Fair Lady – From “Cor Blimey Guv’nor!” to “High Nigh Brine Cow” in 3 hours! Lovely frocks too! 

Village News 

5. Zumba Club

Tomorrow’s Zumba Club will now take place in the Frozen Foods aisle in Spar and not as previously advertised in the World Foods aisle. Someone dropped a bottle of Soya Sauce and Sally won’t get round to clearing it up until tomorrow.

TCTP

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Burt Reynolds Brought Christmas Cheer – By Bob On The Pot

Hello,

Happy New Year. I hope you enjoyed Christmas.

I got the box set of Smokey And The Bandit and a jumper. I wore the jumper down to the Pickled Filtrum for the Xmas lunchtime pint. My mate Stabman used it to wipe blood up from the pub floor. He saw a man drinking Guinness. He has a thing about people drinking Guinness in confined spaces.

It was nice to have our son Lawrence home from the Young Offenders Institute for the day. You should have seen his face when he unwrapped the Ankle Tag cover Shirley had knitted for him! (he appreciated the crafty stash pouch hidden in Santa’s beard.) Thinks of everything does Shirl.

As I nipped in to the smallest room to unburden myself of the Brussels on Boxing Day, Shirl stops me at the door, thrusts a can of Haze “Scent Of The Forest” into my hand and said, “A liberal squirt please. Remember we are going shopping in 10 minutes.” This didn’t give me the time to study racing form. I had to settle on Substance Abuse in the 2.30 at Kempton (I thought Lawrence being home was an omen regarding drug use). It romped in. Seventh.

Why town? Shirley wasn’t too impressed with the gifts of a toasted sandwich maker and a wind up torch. Handy, practical and self cleaning gifts never go down well. But I should have learned after the retractable rolling pin last year.

Burt Reynolds was wonderful in Smokey and the Bandit by the way.

Christ he’s hairy. Felt like throwing him a stick to fetch at one point.

Laters.

Bob

You can read more of Bob’s musings whilst on the pot here and here. Your lives will be infinitely richer for doing so.

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Barry Belcher – The Mystic Milkman’s Predictions For 2015

I am Barry Belcher. I am a Milkman. I am Psychic. I predict predictions.

These were my predictions for 2014.

1. December 2012 – Like The Mayans I believe the world will end on 21st December 2012.

2. 2014 – Feet will be bigger in 2014 by an average of 7.54% per toe.

3. July 2014 –   Nelson Mandela will finally depart the earth for a better place.

As you can see I was right about Nelson whilst NASA has confirmed that toes are 3.68% bigger on average this year.  The world did end in 2012 but most men have yet to notice due to internet porn.

I know you are agog with anticipation to learn of my predictions for 2015.

So, without further ado…….Milk Bottle of Mystery…….what does the future foretell?

1. Everyone will take pointless images of themselves. These images will be called Selfies.

2. Dallas will be reinvented as a healthy eating soap opera set in the elasticated waistbanded, masticated heartland of Texas. Sallad will be the year’s Breaking Bad.

3. Taylor Swift’s nasal passage will be the setting for the new Star War’s franchise. She will sneeze the Millenium Falcon into hyper-space in spectacular fashion! “The Empire’s Hooter” will be a box office smash.

Now it is time for messages from “THE OTHER SIDE” –

Elaine, Walthamstow

The cat ate it.

Barbara, Adelaide

Mum kept the receipt in case you didn’t like the blouse.

Liang Bo in Shanghai

Bo Bing thinks velcro fasteners would be a safer bet for you.

Well folks, the Milk Bottle of Mystery is being returned to the Crate of Destiny.

Until next time……….HAPPY 2011!

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Australian Toilets Bamboozled Me – By Bob On The Pot

Hello Folks,

Well we are back from our trip “Down Under”. I enjoyed Australia. We stayed in the resort of Wollombonggongerianty. The town’s slogan was, “Playground For Functioning Illiterates”.

Oz water swirls in a anti-clockwise direction! Watching a floater bravely battle for survival in an unusal direction fascinated me for several hours.

“Magnetic Pole”, Bruce our taciturn concierge told me. He still mourns the death of Bon Scott.

So ever the one with a scientific mind, when I returned home I sought to place a spoon Geller like, on the forehead of Zgbniew Zzzzzgmrboniak, our local Polish builder. Safe to say the spoon fell off.

Magnetic Poles my arse.

I am back at work.

I was involved in a repossession.

Sir Amethyst Yeast-Gravel had failed to pay his Council Tax. The poor old chap is potless. Should take a leaf out of my cousin Terry’s book and consider armed robbery as a career option.

Anyway before I took possession of goods to the value of what Sir Yeast-Gravel owed, his noblilityness kindly allowed me to use his facilities.

You could tell he was posh because of the a copy of Horse and Hound as the in-store reading material.

I like horses. Legs, Necks, Tails. They’ve got the lot.

Couldn’t ride a horse though. Suffer from Stirrup Ankle.

But at least the water in the bowl swirls in the direction it should. Bloody Australians taking liberties with my evacuations. You can tell a lot about a country by the way it treats its sewage.

My Dad used to say to me, “Your stool is your best friend.” I don’t have a clue either.  Strange man was Dad. He thought he was 3 parts human and 1 part pigeon.

Bob

 

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The Brazilian – Where Do You Stand?- Oily George Gives His Views

Hello Oily

Pubic hair topiary is all the rage this year in North Devon. What is your view on “The Brazilian”? Sambatastic or are you a bush guy.

Aged Elsie, Bideford

Oily Replies;

Elsie,

I spent a summer on Copacabana a few years ago and filmed the real Brazil in my documentary ‘City of Thongs’. (Did you know that Queen Victoria wore an early prototype, a kind of hair shirt for the arse – which historians claim explains her permanent miserable gurn).

Armed with such fascinating historical facts I wandered the beach interviewing, oiled up thong clad  ass shaking women. The results were…..well, exhausting.

The question I ask society at large in this wonderful piece of “Deep Throat” journalism is a simple one: is the thong all it’s cracked up to be?

Oh and by the way Elsie, I found your false teeth. Not sure how they got clamped there without me noticing overnight. Let’s stay off the rum in future!

Oily

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Chairlifts, Soduko and The Road To Rio – By Bob on the Pot

Hello

I was round Aunt Bab’s this morning adjusting her new Stenna chairlift. She was very grateful, although medically speaking there is nothing wrong with her unless being bone idle is now recognised as a medical condition.

The lift does set her new wallpaper off a treat though.

I had the inaugural journey, as I needed the smallest room. Got stuck on the landing and had to walk the rest of the way. Not exactly Neil Armstrong – can’t have everything in life.

I had a go at that Sudokio in The Sun whilst on the pot. All Those Numbers! In Boxes. Up. Down. Across. Did My Head In. Numbers are bollocks. End of.

So I rolled up the paper and swatted a fly who was banging its head against the frosted window pane.

Bit like me with the Sodokio.

I walked down the stairs.

The lads in the Dubious Pilchard were impressed when I told them of my new fitness regime. Given up crisps too. On Sundays at least.

Rio’s only round the corner after all……

Be lucky.

Bob

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The Queen pleads with the Scottish

The Queen has pleaded with Scots to remain part of the United Kingdom. The big funnelled monarch, celebrating 600 years without a thought, is very “worried” about developments, particularly losing her holiday cottage in Balmoral.

To show her devotion to her Scottish subjects Her Royal Linerness has taken to wearing the national symbol of Scotland, the Scotch Egg.

Royal watcher, Form A-Orderly-Queue told Gfb, “Her Royal Minus is very keen that the Sweaty Socks stay part of the UK. She adores shortbread, has read all of Irvine Welsh’s novels, is addicted to Temazepan and Irn Bru is her favourite hangover cure.”

Why don’t they want wonky Prince Charlie as their next King?

Prince Phillip has ordered tanks to be placed outside the house of Scottish firebrand and slurper of soup, Alex “Fatty” Salmond, describing him as a “Slimy sporran sniffing Jock Bastard,” to close pals.

The Prince is also worried that summers will have to be spent at Butlins in Minehead in future.

 

 

What will the Scottish People decide? Will it be life in the Faslane? Or is that the nuclear option?

Och Aye The Noo

Mammy!

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“Lash The Fat To Houses To Save Energy!” Says Ian Duncan Smith

Secretary of State for Work and Fuckery, Iain Drunken-Spliff wants to lash fat people to houses to drive down energy consumption in the UK as part of the Government’s Green agenda.

IDS told Gfb, “I’m sick of all these fat bastards lolloping round the place in tracky bottoms stuffing McShite into themselves,  blaming their glands and then expecting the NHS to staple their gobs.”

Ian Drunken Spliff

He continued after a shot of morphine, “I’m not fucking havin’ it. They are fat – like a Seal in winter fat – fat is good insulation – so tie themto the outside of houses as insulation. Energy consumption goes down and these tubsters are actually of some use. Genius or what!”

Drunken-Spliff then went for a lie down.

British Gas told Gfb, “We have no plans to lash the fat to houses, attractive as that may be. We are farming the obese for their tallow and hope the first Obese Oil Fired Power Station will be coming on-line in 3 or so years.”

Yootha N’asia, Secretary of The Society of Obese People said, “Are you going to eat that?”

 

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My Ice Bucket Challenge – Bob On The Pot

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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