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Posts Tagged ‘Tibet’

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The Diving Dalai

Gingerfightback’s correspondent,  Ying-Yang Karma-Farmer-Hop Pole was delighted to see the Dalai Lama display his diving prowess recently when his holiness visited the Pond’s Forge swimming centre in Sheffield.

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Inspecting The Boards!

Before you could say “Free Tibet!” the Bouncing Buddhist had stripped off his robes to reveal a well toned torso.

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 Famous Dalai Lama epithets about Diving.

1. “If we enter water too fast – budgie smugglers damage the knackers. Protect your knackers.”

2. “Belly flop is nature’s way of telling you  – you shite at diving.”

Last week it was the Pope on the Pommel. We are sure you agree these two leaders are certainly fit for purpose!

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The Pontiff displayed enormous strength and precision particularly in his flair kicks.

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He Has Flair

Busty Born Again Catholic Beauty, Angharad Big Baps cooed, “First the Pope and now the Dalai! God damn I’m gettin’ me some ol’ time religion!”

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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!)

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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.”

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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.

 

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“One’s Always Been A Thong Man!”

 

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Hello,

I recently had to seize goods to the value of £3,578.78 from an Indian Head Massage parlour in Maidenhead for non-payment of Business Rates.

I’m not really up to speed with all this mystic stuff  – I first ate a courgette when I was 42 and I still don’t understand the concept of a meal without chips.

As the chief head rubbererer Eric, a tall lad with a touch of Shirley Bassey about him, scrambled around looking for money, I availed myself of his facilities. Naturally, being a place that deals with mumbo jumbo I had a shufty at a three-week old Guardian stuffed behind the toilet radiator. Inside was an article by that bloke from Tibet  The Dalai Lama.  Sounds like a veggie curry to me but there you go.

Old Dilly Dalai was talking about the benefits of meditation for a tranquil and peaceful life. Inspired, I decided to give mediationism a go.

So I assumed the Lotus position on the pot, tricky with your trousers around your ankles, rebalanced my cheeks, closed my eyes and emptied my thoughts.

“OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhmmmmmm” I cried. I felt good.

“OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhmmmmmm” I repeated. I felt better. Lighter. In tune with my life.

There was a small plop.

I opened my eyes and there was Eric standing in front of me with 26 pence in loose change. As I had reached a higher spiritual plane I gave him an extra week to get the money together.

I also told him to put a lock on his toilet door.

Be Lucky

Bob

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Yes!

 

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