Posts Tagged ‘Soldiers’


The best way to crack a terrorist?  Veruccas.


I learned to love and cherish my veruccas. Not only were they a food source they also made steadfast companions. Easy to look after and not requiring sustenance apart from a sweaty sock or two, they make the perfect pet for us special forces types.

Terrorists cannot cope with Verucca Boarding. Whenever I whipped out my verucca sock and placed it on the nose of an evil terrorist – Boy oh Boy would that evil terrorist spill the beans.

Even beans he didn’t know about.

Think of it compadre – would YOU like an infestation of these little critters on the end of your conk? Thought not!

The technique was invented by Colonel Jock “McJock” Bollocks who headed up the deep cover Fungal Foot Fighting Force. Jock once took out an Iraqi machine gun nest armed only with a can of Athlete’s Foot spray and a belief in the redemptive qualities of Jesus Christ.

Legend or loon – you decide!

Now in civvy street when I go to the local baths for a swim, I think of all my little verucca chums nestling around the pool’s edge waiting to be called to defend our freedoms.

Thank you  Colonel Bollocks.


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In the SAS I learned how to kill. In 1986 in a pub in Billericay I killed a man with only the vehemence of my sneer. That’s how dangerous I am.

In my 72nd book on Gulf War, “Kuwait If You Want To – I Won’t”  I recount one such gory action.

Chapter 25, “The Pubic Wars”

“The plan had fallen apart. We were stuffed. The RT only received Iraqi Trance Radio Station 105.7 “Mullah Lite”  – Let me tell you “Big Box Little Box” cuts down the communication options somewhat in this spiteful, hateful, hostile regime. How hard was it? One word. Hard. That’s how hard it was.

A Dwarf Rapid Reaction Group were in support on our left flank and Nihilist Ninjas were on our right, when they could be bothered.  Whose idea was it to allow titches and philosophers into the Forces? Political correctness gone mad.

Rations  were gone. I improvised as my field training had taught me. I crocheted chicken stew with potatoes.  I always carry a needle and wool in my Ammo belt.

My platoon perked up with the scran inside ’em.  Gurkha Tenpin-Bowling and  Jellytits O’Loon reccied ahead to locate the Iraqi Death Squad. O’Loon twanged a short burst of “She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain” on his fibrous pubic hair to signal that he had spotted them. They were seated around the fire. Working on their wrist strength collectively.

If they were willing to engage in mutual masturbation, Dwarves and Nihilists would hold no fear for them. Unless Dwarf tossing meant something else out here.

I had to get closer to their leader, Al Jarreau. But there was no way he was gonna rub my Johnson. I’ll kill for my Queen and Country but I was not letting a big Iraqi mitt around my todger. He might have rough hands for starters and I’m very sensitive down there. Ever since that incident with the Ladyboy in Bangkok (we still write).

My field training had taught me to improvise, to blend in with the surroundings.

As the Iraqis forged on with their group rubbing,  I manoeuvred myself behind Al Jarreau and disguised myself as a sofa. After his pleasure had been occasioned, he sat in the sofa.  I reconstituted myself around him and O’Loon garroted him with one of his super strength pubic hairs.


Stench In Disguise – Sofa So Good

The Dwarves arrived in time to receive an eyeful from the self pleasuring Iraqis but they managed to wipe them out before wiping themselves off. The Nilhilists debated the ethics of mutual masturbation in modern warfare, concluding it was acceptable ,in certain circumstances.

As a treat, I crocheted the lads a nice trifle.

War is an ugly business. But a good pudding helps. Just Desserts in the Desert so to speak.

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