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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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Hi Kids,

It is your duty to take drugs!

cupboard crackhead copy

 

As the Government now includes proceeds from drugs and prostitution in official statistics I am proud that my Crack habit has helped pull the country out of recession. I’m not sure how statisticians arrived at these figures (exhaustive research must have been undertaken).

Prostitution should no longer be seen as drug addled women being pimped by scum to pay for their heroin addiction but as a bold, nay noble effort to get the country back on its feet, up against a wall or in a car or in a bus shelter…..

Makes ya proud to be British!

Beats me why would Scotland wish to become independent!

Uncle Crackhead

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Hi Kids,

Giving blood is one of the best things we can do to help others!

cupboard crackhead copy

 

Unfortunately due to my shared needle experience in years past (another money saving tip for a future post) my blood is not exactly top-notch – but every cloud has a silver lining and the local butcher, Chortling Charlie – a man with an outstanding track record in the preparation of contaminated meat products can always find a use for a pint or two of me old red stuff.

His Crack Pudding is worth dieing for.

Locally sourced and keeping the air miles to a minimum. Organic food as it should be.

So Kids – If you can’t donate blood – why not have  a word with your butcher?

Peace and Love

Uncle Crackhead

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Hi Kids,

Smoking Tobacco Is Bad For YOU!

cupboard crackhead copy

 

This applies to Cigarettes, Cigars, Cigarillos and Pipes (but not crack pipes). I would also counsel against smoking petrol, carpets and/or soap.

Do not confuse this with smoking fish. That is an ancient custom which provides a marvellous erm..erm….smokey taste to fish. Do not confuse this with fish that smoke – they have no hands, access to matches/lighters and being water based creatures……..you get my drift.

Just remember you’ve only got one set of lungs, but hundreds and hundreds of veins!

So Kids – SAY NO TO CIGARETTES (BUT YES TO OPIATES!)

Peace and Love

Uncle Crackhead

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Hi Kids,

 

cupboard crackhead copy

Whilst I am a lowly Crackhead In A Cupboard, I still remember me P’s and Q’s towards my Crack supplier.

Although the benefits of this polite approach were not immediate (necessitating several trips to A and E to sew my knees back on) at least  “The Turk” only beats my withered arm as punishment for tardy payment.  Even then I manage a chirpy smile and wish him all the best as he leaves the cupboard!

So Kids – Always remember to say please and thank you! Manners cost nothing!

 

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bobonthepot_Cosmopolitan

Hello,

With warmer weather comes the need to barbecue.

For those of you who are foreign firstly, it is not your fault.  Secondly, barbecues are a recent phenomenonenonenonenon here in the UK. Microwaving is our traditional way of cooking.

I’ve tried to Barbecue with a microwave oven, but the oven melts a bit.

Making a barbecuing microwave oven is on my list of things to do, in between rowing across the Atlantic and visiting the dentist.

We had a BBQ lat Saturday. My lovely wife Shirley, whose topless sunbathing can still be seen on Google Earth despite her writing to the NSA and GCHQ, invited our neighbours Gwen and Martin Slope.

Martin is a food inspector for the local Council. Before you could say, “I’d give the chicken another ten minutes Bob, there’s blood seeping out of this one,” he’s slapped a food safety notice on me and chided me for scratching my nuts whilst handling raw food. Not exactly a barrel of laughs is Martin. Cholera is more fun

“Fat Twat!” Shirley jokingly called me as she poked the snapped cork into the bottle of Estonian Pinot Grigio. Wine with cork bits floating in it always tastes better.

Then she started wailing, “Last Christmas” by Wham. Martin served a noise abatement notice on her. But that’s my Shirley!

A drunkard.

Ever since, I’ve been in the smallest room for hours on end, caning the rolls of frozen Andrex. I should have given that chicken five more minutes.

Think I’ll put the Barbie away. Stick to the microwave. Food you can trust. 5 A Day? My arse!

Martin and Gwen put their house up for sale yesterday.

Bob

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