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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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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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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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I am Barry Belcher. I am a Milkman. I am Psychic. I have been predicting predictions, with little accuracy for a number of years now.

I haven’t been very well. Didn’t see that coming.

Without further ado…….Milk Bottle of Mystery…….what does the future foretell?

1. November 8th 2014 – A man with large knees but low self-esteem will swim The Atlantic. Non Stop. Underwater. He will be venerated by all and held up as a role model for today’s feckless youth.

2. May 24 2015 –  Scotland votes for independence from the UK.

3. December 25 2015 – Lance Armstrong will marry his crack pipe in a small, family only affair in Las Vegas.

“MESSAGES FROM THE OTHER SIDE……”

Mary, Banbury;

You left the tin of peas on the bus

Alexi, Minsk;

You’ll find the pencil in the bread bin

Liang Bo in Shanghai

Agreed!

IF YOU KNOW ANYONE WHO MAY BENEFIT FROM HEARING THESE MESSAGES PLEASE PASS THEM ON….

I am now returning the Milk Bottle of Mystery to the Crate of Destiny.

Until next time……….

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The new series satarts tonight.

The excitement is making grown men constipated.

bonneville sausage

“You want me to say what?”

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Hello,

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

I have been potterising for over 20 years and 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. Some Art reviews….

1. Painting

The Lady of Shalott – Waterhouse’s Pre-Raphaelite painting of a woman in a canoe without a paddle.  She can’t have got very far! In fact she was probably up Sh*t creek. Wonder what happened to the Post-Raphaelites?

2. Movies

Braveheart  – Mel Gibson daubed in woad dons a dress and says, “Wee Jock McTavish, Och Aye The Noo, Bagpipes, Shortbread, Haggis, Cobber” and other terms of Jockery – shouts “FREEEEDUUUUM!” then has his innards removed by a bloke in a cap – Goes on a wee bit.

3. Music

Led Zeppelin 2 – Hobbit Lovin’ Cock Rockers Love Muscle Removal Van? Sounds good to me – lots of songs about having their lemons being squeezed – must have been Pancake day when they recorded it – Goes on a bit.

4. Literature

War Horse – Michael Morpurgo’s moving novel about a horse that goes to war. Goes on a bit.

5.Pottery

Protogeometric Style of Ancient Greece

My favourite period of Greek Pottery – it represents the return of craft production after the collapse of the Mycenaean Palace culture and is one of the few modes of artistic expression of this era known to us. By 1050 BC life in the Greek peninsula became sufficiently settled to allow a marked improvement in the production of earthenware. The style is confined to the rendering of circles, triangles, wavy lines and arcs, but placed with evident consideration and notable dexterity, probably aided by compass’ and multiple brush.
I’m going on a bit aren’t I…..and yes, I looked this up on Wikipedia.

Village News

The Village shop’s the new frozen foods section will be opened by Brad and Angelina on Saturday. Angelina has had, “Your daily shopping needs at your local Spar” tattooed on her left shoulder.

‘Til next time – The Wheel Keeps On Turning!

TCTP

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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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Britain’s top Boy Band, No Direction, have revealed to Gfb’s Showbusiness Editor, Matt Finish that their new single  “We love you Jock. Och Aye The Noo We Do” The Thatcher Remix – will be released @ 7 am on Friday morning to celebrate the no vote in the Scottish Referendum.

The Single, a homage to all things Scottish also features on the B side the lively rap “Oi Salmond! Up yer bum with yer Referendum!”

The band hope to capitalise on the success of their last single, “Please Forgive Me Mr Murdoch” which featured the singing talents of long dead Larry Grayson!

George “Ozzie” Osbourne, said “We are really excited about this single. It’s really ballsy. Not like Ed Balls though. I hate him. He smells. And he doesn’t have servants! Just off to flog my fag.”

Simon Cowell said, “I am constipated with excitement about this single.”

He Is

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

charles copy

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.

 

fence2charlessausage

“One’s Always Been A Thong Man!”

 

 

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