Posts Tagged ‘Hair Styles’

Hello Oily

Which do you think is more likely to make a comeback as a hairstyle for men, the perm or the mullet?

I like Jon Bon Jovi’s locks – they are teased, tousled and perfectly match his cock rock power rock ballads about being a dead or alive cowboy on a steel horse whilst keeping the dream alive and our love will never die cos we were meant to be together and holding on together ‘cos he rides a steel cowboy often in the rain.

Bet his hair never gets wet though.

Toby, Moray

Oily Replies,


I go for the sleek and sensual Silver Fox look. Easily maintained and always stays in position even when I have my ‘watersports’ weekends with the Compton Fetishist Society here in Crazy City.

Yes, my sexual proclivities are not bound by class creed or colour. Or species, if you believe the tittle tattle written in the Catholic Herald this week. But I deny those charges vehemently.

Was simply a misunderstanding.

Woof Woof.

You really know the lyrics of Bon Jovi don’t you. Well done and have a biscuit.

I love Twisted Sister – the relation not the band.

Regards, Oily

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Azteca Stadium – Mexico City, Mexico- 1986

He was small. He was stocky. He had a lovely mop of hair. He had it all. And he did it in tiny, shiny shorts. He was Diego Armando Maradona.

England. Sturdy. Yeomen. Thick. And two words to gladden the heart of any forward player on earth. Terry Fenwick.

It was a clash. Not only of cultures and values but also hairstyles. England permed and mullet topped to the nth degree. Argentina, long flowing locks, feather cuts a plenty  and a luxuriant back comb or two. Boy, did they give the volumizer a bashing at half-time.

A war had divided the two nations. But one thing united both teams. Exceptionally tiny, tight shorts with a lovely homo-erotic satin finish.

As Peter Reid, the doughty Liverpudlian midfield enforcer, with a lovely wavy bonce, said about the second goal, “I just couldn’t get near him, me shorts had cut of the blood supply to me knackers. I can’t have no kids ‘coz of dem shorts laa.”

Apart from this procreative downfall, England could not cope with the titchy Buenos Aires Barrio boy. He could nutmeg a gaggle of riot police in a Paddy Wagon and sell the perfect dummy at a mannequin convention. Yes Diego was that good. But he was also a cheat. A cheat who drew inspiration from God.


Perm One From Three

As these photos display the infamous first goal, when he punched the chicken into the net over the head of the perma-permed Shilts (note the early signs of a tear in the seam of Shilt’s shorts) to put his team ahead. From a different angle the chicken looks suspiciously like a boiled ham. If that doesn’t scream Ham Ball we don’t know what does.

You've Got To Ham It To Him!

The result? Argentina won the game and went on to lift the World Cup of Footbally Bally.

In Scotland there was great rejoicing. As Jock “McJock” Boilinthebag said “That was better than this year’s Andy Stewart’s Hogmanay TV special! All we need now is for Mel Gibson to cry FREEEEEEDUUUUMMMMM! and we will be an independent nation”.

Years later, Pop Queen Madonna parodied the whole episode in her live show, when reprising “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina”. We were never convinced that she was the right person to play Evita.

Although she may have made a useful inside forward….

"Livin' Evita Loca!" (Sorry Ricky)

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