WHOOPS! Prince Charles in expletive laden tirade about the Scottish

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

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.

 

“One’s Always Been A Thong Man!”

 

 

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Prince Charles – Now He Slags Of Paul McCartney & The Dalai Lama!

Many of you will have read that Prince Charles had a pop at Russian President and leading gay rights advocate, Vladimir Putin “On The Ritz” calling Vlad a Nazi. (Best not to look too deeply at Charles’ Grandmother then!)

Defender Of The Sausage

What was not revealed was the Chuck, currently annoying people in Nova Scotia, then went on to slam Beatles legend and champion of misjudged cosmetic surgery, Paul McCartney.

Gfb can reveal that Chas said about Macca, “Christ I’m sick of that scouse arsewipe. Ever since he married that one legged Geordie Harpie he’s been a right pain in one’s arse. Always turning up uninvited, Olympics, Jubilee, Weddings. If I hear “Hey Fuckin’ Jude”  emanating from his gob off key one more time I’ll get Mama to lock him in the fuckin’ Tower. He only gets the gig cos Camilla uses his plastic surgeon. Can’t you tell? They have the same nose and chin. Na Na Na Na me arse.”

But that was not all.

An hour later, drink in hand and a touch world weary, Charles was heard to say about the Dalai Lama, “Speccy Chink Wanker. Buddhist my arse. Looks like a nonce to me. Fuckin’ hate vegetarians I do. Never known any situation where having a sausage doesn’t make things better.”

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

 

“One’s Always Been A Thong Man!”

 

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