King Billy

Apart from where to place his snide Dagenham market DVD copy on the shelf marked ‘Lockdown Exercise Routines, in his filthy bedroom? If I had to guess, somewhere in between How to beat cancer for the sixth time when everyone you know hopes you won’t, and Ten foolproof suicide tips for AIDS riddled idiots.’

Have a like Frank. Solely for ‘or DVD’s’ The rest of the post is your usual, predictable shite though. Take that as a compliment and fuck right off while you’re ahead.

I watched the entire service this morning, as always regaled in bowler hat, sash and crombie. Although I felt a heart crushing wave of sorrow and disappointment on hearing the news that Her Majesty was unable to attend, I was able to find some solace once the rest of the ‘firm’ appeared minus Harry in full SS ceremonial uniform, or Andrew representing Epstein Island and proudly displaying his Jim l Fixit medal. But the icing on the Battenburg cake for me as a traditionalist, was the tearjerking moment when the recently included LGBTQ+ representative placed his wreath on the Cenotaph. Although I was sobbing uncontrollably by this stage, I couldn’t help but think how proud Paddy Maine would be if he could’ve been there.

‘Sun dried organic Mars Bar anyone?

OK You’ve converted me. As soon as Christmas is over and I’ve done the numbers and figured out how much profit I couldn’t possibly have made flogging ‘dead trees’ (Silly me), I’m having the imaginary M4 converted to run on organic soya milk by a bloke with a beard and sandals, packing my loft with brown rice, dried bugs and recycled vegans piss in carbon neutral, non binary, hand knitted (by oppressed indigenous LGBTQ+ victims of white, male tyranny) bottles. With a bit of luck as I live on a hill and my loft is three storeys up the rising sea levels won’t engulf me till near the end of the world. Which is when exactly? I need to pay more attention to the proper ‘science’. Next time I see a proper scientist who looks like an autistic, angry, pigtailed teenager whose glued her trotters to the motorway I’ll try my best to stop for a chat. Unless the tsunami is too close behind me, in which case I’ll probably have no choice except to smoothly glide over her scrawny neck and hope the climate police don’t show up outside my loft the next morning in a plastic free dinghy.

I had an almost identical experience this afternoon Stubbs. I was about to walk into Harrods when I became aware of someone asking ‘Excuse me old chap. Could you spare a couple of hundred quid for a bottle of Bolly?’ I looked down and saw what I can only describe as a scruffy young bounder sitting on a tiger skin rug, in what looked like a caviar stained three piece suit and wearing a monocle. Surrounded by discarded cigars and other signs of abject poverty, I couldn’t say no so I swiftly kicked his cunt in and put the whole unpleasant episode out of my mind. I can only imagine the trauma you must still be suffering mate.

Yes, two doses of the experimental Astra Zeneca (not for profit) lifesaver, which just a couple of days ago became ‘for profit’. It appears the skiploads of U.K. taxpayers cash Bozo and Matt Spatchcock very publicly threw at them last year as if it was their own life savings, is running out, so it’s time to get back on the Big Pharma gravy train and get the tills kerchinging again, before the Covid goose has laid its last golden egg and they’ll have to go back to massively overcharging the NHS and other unaccountable conglomerates for sticking plasters and haemorrhoid ointment.

😂😂😂😂

Two Japs up his arse for 20% discount at his local sushi takeaway probably.

His brother has the same effect on me Eric.

I’m going to PM you my medical records Frank. As you’re the only one on here I truly regard as a friend and a gentleman, I’m trusting you not to post them on here or anywhere else online that you lurk. Just bear in mind that your well documented enthusiasm for playing the pink oboe doesn’t necessarily mean that you would be warmly received as a whistleblower. This is cunts corner Frank, not the Washington Post. Carl Bernstein is a fat cunt and you’re a skinny cunt. I hope that’s cleared everything up for you.

Kelly Fister Darren Organ Joes Johnson Eugene Huge I give up.

Gary Poontang

Stiff Wilson

Willy Torn

Marco Fu Fu

Stuart Biggun

Penis Taylwhore

The (C)oral U.K. semi finalist?

Alan McAnus

Doesn’t it have a door? Or one of those loading ramp things?

Do you play snooker Neil?

The mind boggles…. A photo album of pictures of you with the head cut off? A court injunction ordering you not to phone the Samaritans ever again under penalty of immediate imprisonment? A collection of death threats from your primary school classmates and teachers? A reply from Dear Deirdre advising her to drown you and flush your dismembered corpse down the outside toilet? Sorry Frank, but hard as I try I’m really struggling to be a true friend to you. Don’t feel bad. It’s not you it’s me.

Unfortunately putting some much time and effort into becoming an alcoholic has had an unforeseen side effect. He’s now an unemployed workaholic too.

Penelope Spice?