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Posts Tagged ‘God’

Hello Folks!

We all need a giggle sometimes. This still makes us laugh like drains.
You may recall when Cecilia Giminez took her brush to Ecce Homo in The Sanctuary of Mercy Church near Zaragoza.

An official declared, “The once-dignified portrait now resembles a crayon sketch of a very hairy monkey in an ill-fitting tunic.”

Naturally we at Gfb did our bit to restore the restoration so to speak.

 

When revisiting our handiwork, we noticed a similarity to another well known “hairy monkey in an ill fitting tunic”.

Whaddya think?

The Resemblance Is Uncanny!

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We welcome Agnes DuPont to tell us more about her previous lives!!!!!! Her first instalment can be read here

To connect with previous lives, Agnes eats cheese.

PLEASE DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME AS CHEESE IN THE WRONG HANDS CAN BE LETHAL.

Hello People,

A few years ago I spent a most enjoyable fortnight as Albert Einstein. It was great being brainy for a while.

During my time as Albert Einstein I discovered that light has slowed down a bit. This is good news for all those who rely on torches to see in the dark as the batteries will last longer.

The formula E=MC2? It doesn’t mean anything. Albert just thought the letters sounded nice when arranged like that. Apparently it could have been P=KF2 – too clunky in his opinion.

I also invented the dashes to add to the dots in Morse Code which up to that point hadn’t worked very well. As you can see, —…— tells a whole different story!

Yep, It Was Fun Being Albert Einstein.

You may think I am a fantasist who eats cheese late at night……….I would beg to differ. I was there.

Regards,

Agnes

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Ginger Sooty, GLOVE PUPPET OF DREAMS provides a daily round-up of events at the London 2012 Olympics that are, quite simply London 2012.

Well Folks –  We’re done!

Wigs off to Mo Farah for winning the 5,000 metres and also to the Jamaican 4×100 metres team for breaking the world record on their way to gold.

David Boudia of the US won the 10 metre diving (with titchy trunks on).

Tamara Echegoyen Dominguez, Sofia Toro Prieto Puga and Angela Pumariega Menendez of Spain  won gold in the women’s Elliott 6m Sailing

Another great sailor was Kirk Douglas. The photo shows what happened to his boat. Ahoy there!

THE CLOSING CEREMONY

I would like to see the theme of the Summer Fete being incorporated into the closing ceremony and not all of that esoteric power blather. All played out over a dodgy PA system.

So first up would be The Donkey Derby;

Then; Glamorous Granny

Followed by;  Knobbly Knees!

Then; The Triathlon!

Finally of course – The Raffle!

First Prize – A Christmas Hamper

Second Prize – A Set of Cotton Sheets

Third Prize – A Bottle of Pomagne

Fourth Prize – A Kettle (With Lead)

Fifth Prize – A Pair Of Slippers

Sixth Prize – A Lamp (Without Shade)

Hopefully the rain will hold off for it.

I Hope You Enjoyed  The Games!

Nighty Night

Sooty

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Aunty Bill - A Tin Opener Short

When Emotions Boil Over

Dear Aunty Bill,

My girl Polly means the world to me. She has a lovely personality, speaks several languages and is, in the vernacular, a bit of a looker. I want to ask her to marry me and bare my offspring.

She suffers from the very rare Pollyputthekettleon Syndrome which means she cannot leave the house without a full kettle perched on her perm and she can never be more than 5 metres from a plug socket to ensure the water is always boiled.

Do you think if I bought her a flexi-lead to increase her roaming distance she would walk down the aisle with me?

Carlton, Stovely

Aunty Bill Replies;

Hey Carlton!

You lucky man, sounds like the girl of my dreams as well. I love a cuppa and with her there’s never one far away!

Rather than go to expense of trailing sockets and extension leads, how about an asbestos hat as featured in this month’s edition of “Practical Millenary”?

One of these titfers, a small can of lighter fluid and you are away. Simply spray the fluid on to the hat, ignite and place the kettle in the cradle provided. Within minutes you’ll have a nice steaming brew!

But ask her to let you know if her head is getting too hot.

These hats are designed to withstand temperatures of 200 degrees for up to five minutes (so it says in the brochure), ample time to boil a kettle, although if you detect any scalp disfigurement extinguish immediately.

How about some matching gloves to go with the hat? That way your steaming brew will remain hotter for longer (so it says in the brochure).

Remember not to ignite the gloves.

Sup up!

Aunty Bill

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Aunty Bill - A Tin Opener Short

Here To Help – Here To Care

Pond Love

Help Aunty Bill!

I think I am in love with my next door neighbour’s goldfish pond. It is on two levels and has a nice water feature in the centre (a fountain of Elvis doing the splits). I asked my neighbour if I could take the pond out for a fish supper. He slammed the door in my face and last night firebombed my shed. How can I get him to see that I really love his pond?

Dai, Rhonnda

Aunty Bill Replies;

Hi Dai,

There’s nowt as queer as folk as the old saying goes and just when you think everything’s been covered, up you pop!

Pond love isn’t as unusual as you might have thought. I’m not surprised you’ve fallen for your neighbour’s water feature.

Hell hath no fury like a pond scorned as another old saying goes and its time you demonstrated your love for this pond by embarking on an extensive cleaning, fish feeding and water filtration, as it is obvious that your neighbour is willing to fight for his pond.

A few weeks of intensive pond maintenance should demonstrate that you are indeed serious and that your intentions are entirely honourable.

If this fails, then seek revenge for your shed. You will need the following :

A 12″ gauge shot gun

1 gallon of petrol

1 bucket of bleach

Some gloves

I leave the rest to you – you know what you have to do.

TTFN

Aunty Bill

PS Your not the brother of Chris Rea by any chance?

The Milk Of Human Kindness

Aunty Bill,

My mum sold me to the milkman in order to buy a shoe horn the other week. Strange you might think.

Do you think she is trying to tell me something? I weigh 87 stone and recently ate our roof by mistake. It made a healthy alternative to cheese in a sandwich.

Yvonne, Winchester

Aunty Bill Replies;

Dear Yvonne

Ah the harsh economic realities of bread line Britain eh?

The shoehorn is merely a metaphor for shoe horning you out of the door and out of her life (although at 87 stone she’s got a job on her hands and will need a bigger horn or lots of smaller ones).

Selling you to the milkman was her way of saying “Get out of my house you overweight useless wazzock,” but as she’s your mum she couldn’t bring herself to say these words.

At least she sold you to a milkman.

Milkmen (and women) have over the years demonstrated a deep affection for fat people. Before the days of the electric cart, they could be seen across Britain pulling the float while the milkmen jumped on and off delivering the nation’s favourite drink.

Hopefully he will put you to work and you’ll not only see the pounds fall away but be in a position to replace the roof over you dear old mum’s head which you so thoughtlessly ate.

Chink! Chink!

AB

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The Queen of Hingeland?

Tanktop McBain, Gfb’s lead reporter has learned today that Moma Grizzly, Sarah Palin’s romance with The Pope is over. For more info follow this link – http://gingerfightback.com/2011/12/09/sarah-palins-lovelife/

The doyen of the Pea Tarty, who recently sought to ban Whales because they were big, is being consoled by her lawn mower after the goose stepping Pontiff ditched her for what he laughably described as “God”.

Palin was devastated to finally understand that celibacy was not a delicately cook white fish and was in fact a well-known person with a lisp.

Pope Pius 23rd

“I sure is devastated, but heck y’know life goes on!” Sarah told a close pal whilst teaching her kids, Cre, Ati, On, Ism about the inherent evil that earthworms pose to mankind.

Liz’s Lezzer Lust!

Rumours ripen by the second however that Sarah is now in the arms of a new lover, The Queen of England. She and Lesbo Liz have been seen strolling around Anchorage hand in hand, giggling like school kids and looking dreamily into each other eyes.

“Shucks!” cried Palin, “I admit it. That Liz is one hot bit of ass! You’ll never have a frown once you’ve tried some Windsor Crown!”

She's A Malteser

What first attracted the two lovers? Honeycombed chocolate balls it would appear to us!

However, Buckingham Palace remains tight lipped about the rumours.

"Nature's Played A Cruel Trick On Her"

“Bollocks,” the Keeper of The Royal Satsuma told Gfb, “Her Royal Sinus is not havin’ it large with Ms Palin. Now clear off – I want to watch the repeat of CSI – mind you it is not the same since Grissom left is it?”

So it must be true then.

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As a result of the interest shown in the recent story of Banjo Gibbon (TRAIN TRAVEL TALES 8 BANJO GIBBON if you want to look it up! ) Gfb is happy to provide more intimate pictures of Gibbons relaxing with their favourite stringed instrument.

Gibbon Townsend – Ooh Ooh Are You?

Dylan Gibbon – “Swingin’ In The Wind”

This troop who live in the tropical forests of Java, have had the ability to twang passed down for over 125 years now.

It was the American Baptist Missionary Obadiah Melordy in his zeal to convert the peoples of the Bangpang peninsula to all things Godly who inadvertently discovered their talent.

His diary (published posthumously in 1907) recounts the extraordinary events;

March 23rd 1887

“There is still no sign of my banjo, taken two days hence from outside the tent whilst Mrs Melordy and I succumbed to the steamy surroundings in a rigorous bought of intercourse both sexual and social. My lovely wife had sought to reassure me that my instrument (which in an act of wanton sentimentality I had named Jefferson) would be returned with an immediacy that would allow us to draw a veil over this unfortunate act of larceny and Godlessness amongst the peoples of the peninsula.

Up to this point the natives had shown a typically witless savage charm when faced with superior Godly white folk. At approximately noon today however, they appeared restless and in a state of high dudgeon. Mrs Melordy attaching her seventh undergarment, advised me to draw back the flaps of the tent.

And lo! A sound, the like of which neither I nor my wife would ever have considered and Scripture had never prepared us for, swam around us. Banjos being played like a whispered lullaby.

“Mr Melordy! Jefferson is being strummed!” my wife declared, “I believe I can hear another. Now another! Now a fourth! Look up yonder in the lee of the great tree!”

My dutiful wife, so long a bastion of petticoated virtue fainted. I cast my gaze toward the direction of the sound expecting to see natives playing some simple, godless tune upon Jefferson.

Instead I saw a troop of Western Hoolock Gibbons, idly swinging in the trees strumming banjos, each with a practiced ease that took me back to the front porch of my Father’s stead in Kansas.

Within the notation I could hear the harmonies of a favourite Christmas Carol “Away in a Manger” sung by our small, but spiritually engaged community only three months previous to celebrate Our Lord’s birth. Truly a miracle.”

March 24th 1887

“It would appear from Nincompoop, our one eyed guide and valet that a startling event has unfolded. I had asked him to retrieve Jefferson from the light fingered Gibbons and in his innocent savage way he had set off at dawn eager to please me (They are such a happy people when guided by God’s word!)

He returned only to bid Mrs Melordy and I to follow him. With trepidation we followed. Only the sound of my beloved’s petticoats rustling under my tunic could be heard. Mrs Melordy fainted due to the Christian application of a whalebone corset.

We left a guide with her and moved on.

Nincompoop and I crept forward. Closer to the troop. We were greeted by a sight of such perspicacity and dexterity that I too nearly swooned. For in a clearing sat the large troop of Gibbons with the adults strumming Banjos.

A large male was threading a recently made instrument with steel wire, presumably stolen from our provisions. Around him were strewn several roughly made tools.

We watched. Amazed. Nincompoop produced an ancient revolver (a trophy from the earlier Wesleyite missionary St John Tabard of Sevenoaks, England, whose end has never been fully explained) and took a bawdy aim at the large male. I placed a hand on his shoulder and intimated that we back away and leave the troop to strum in peace.

March 25th 1887

I am pleased to say Mrs Melordy has fully recovered from her fainting fit and we had just completed another rigorous bought of intercourse, both sexual and social, when the Gibbons’ Banjos struck up once more.

This time they played a Waltz! Seized, I am ashamed to say by the Godless desire to dance, Mrs Melordy and I reeled for several minutes as we used to in our courting days before sadly she succumbed to the heat and fainted once more.

I am no longer convinced about the efficacy of Whalebone corsets and have vowed not to wear women’s under garments in the tropics.

As I awaited her revival I studied scripture. There was nothing I could find that  explain how Gibbons, low savage beasts as they are, could construct and play Banjo’s in such a delightful manner. I am perplexed.”

So are we Mr Melordy, so are we!

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“Kiamn vi atingas perfektecon ĉiutagan kiel mi far, estas bone ..i havi defiojn. Pasintjare mi neniu estas antan la celo de faranta perfekta fromaĝo sur tost. mi atingita ĉi tiu celo. Mi lek miaj antaŭbrakoj ĉiutaga al rememorig min kiel mirinda mi estas. Fromaĝo Esperanto? Senĝena por mi!”

Translation;

(*“When you achieve perfection everyday as I do, it is good to have challenges. Last year I set myself the target of making perfect cheese on toast. I achieved this aim. If I can grill cheese then I can certainly teach the world to speak the same language. By Thursday tea time at the latest. Cheese to Esperanto? Not a problem for me!”)

Simon Cowell made the moon, created meat and is so handsome strangers suck on his forearms.

He now wants the world to speak Esperanto.

The following is a sneak extract from the new series of Heaven’s Got Talent. Simon is judging God’s plate spinning act,

“Dio, la malfacileco mi havas kun via ago estas tio, ke mi ne povas vid granda mendado de telero spinners nunmomente. Certa, vi povas akiri koncerton sur Meditteranean kroz aŭ du sed sur nacia televido? mi hav miaj duboj. Mi vere kredi ke vi havas aĵon pri vi kvankam Dio. Mi havas okulon por ĉi tiuj aferoj! Mia konsilo al vi estas tio, ke mi vid vin pli kiel giganta koko prefere ol telero spinner. Don ĝi iuj penso, reven pli malfrue en la montr kaj RAV ni!”

Dio respond, “Vi estas tre saĝa Sro Cowell,” (Cowell kapjesoj en mecenateco) “Sed eĉ vi ne povus ĉefinstiginton Novajn Infanojn Sur la Bloka reveno, ni agnosku, ke, eĉ mi ne povus estas farita tio. Tamen, mi estos revenigi kiel koko! Susan Boyle estas seksalloga! seksalloga!”

Cowell “dir-is, ke mi estas ĝoj vi hav vid sento Dio.”

Dog Plate Spinning (apologies for the spelling)

Translation;

Cowell, “God, the difficulty I have with your act is that I can’t see a great demand for plate spinners at the moment. Sure, you may get a gig on a Mediterranean cruise or two but national television? I have my doubts. I genuinely believe that you have something about you though God. I have an eye for these things. My advice to you is that I see you more as a giant chicken rather than a plate spinner. Give it some thought, come back later in the show and WOW us!”

God replies, “You are so wise Mr Cowell,” (Cowell nods in munificence) “But even you could not mastermind New Kids On The Block’s comeback, let’s face it, even I could not have done that. However, I shall return as a chicken! Susan Boyle is sexy!sexy!”

Cowell said “I am glad you have seen sense God.”

God has offered Simon the position of thirteenth apostle, following the omniscient one’s unsuccessful audition for Heaven’s Got Talent (God was pipped by Winston Churchill’s bird song impressions for a quarter final berth). Simon is trying to juggle this with his hectic schedule.

Saluton!

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To cheer England rugby fans this weekend watching the Rugby World Cup final between France and New Zealand, gfb wants to take you back to Australia 2003 when a nation’s sporting hopes were finally realised.……

 

Jonny’s Fowl Drop

 

Jonny “Cauliflower” Wilkinson drop kicked England to Rugby World cup victory in 2003 to scotch the dastardly Aussie’s evil plan to win the game. The Antipodeans still cry fowl when they talk of the moment.

The Chicken Gets A Kickin'

To celebrate the team undertook upon their return home, formation vomiting off Tower Bridge. The projectile vomit impression of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers had to be seen to be believed!

That was a great Rugby team. “Cruncher” Johnson the captain (seen below lifting the Webb Ellis Chicken aloft in victory), “Tank” Thompson, “Egg Bound” Dallaglio, “Pounder” Lewsey, “Laicised” Dawson and “Hermaphrodite” Hill to name but a few.

Enormous knees to a man with halitosis of such virility it could strip bark from a weeping willow nestling beautifully by a babbling brook where no doubt donkeys freed from their harsh labours cavort happily.

It's Coming Home, It's Coming Home, It's Coming, Chicken's Coming Home

Across the country, young lads tingling with excitement would steal their mother’s roast chickens and merrily practice fowl dropping in parks, sports fields, back gardens and on train tracks until they had perfected their technique.

The craze swept the nation. Three teenagers lost their lives as a result and the nation’s roast chicken population was put under house arrest for its own protection.

Finally, the Government outlawed the activity through the 2003 Dangerous Flying Roast Chickens Act (Miscellaneous Provisions), driving the sport underground.

Dropping is now undertaken in disused factories and warehouses by men ill-suited to a law abiding lifestyle and pennies are gambled on a single chicken drop or “fowler” to give it its proper term.

Cage Fowl Dropping is the world’s fasted growing non-contact chicken martial art. Advocates hope it will be an Olympic event in London in 2012.

If you haven’t seen it, make sure you do.

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