How is it that SPAMMERS just know that I’m fat, under endowed and urgently in need of a knob-extension, new watch plus a truck load of VIAGRA tabs for my rapidly dissapearing bell-end? (Bell End is just outside Birminham by the way, should you wish to play “pin a pony tail in a map”)
Spooky or what?
Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam er, etc…
So in tribute then, here’s an obvious link from your Uncle Stan T celebrating all things wonderful about good old British SPAM:
Yep – it’s a jolly holiday for deffo – with me, your Uncle Stan Trolley…
“Leave it aaat Mary Poppins!”
Yep – me bin’s only been and gawn and decided to take me away on holiday ain’t it?!
And here I am!
I find myself on the cliff-tops above Polzeath Beach in Cornwall:
Where the posh people and the CHAVS all surf along together in perfect harmony – a bit like the blacks & the whites did when you think – on the old “joanna keyboard” way back when in that crap song by Sir Paul McCartney & Michael Jackson – and a bit before that Michael Jackson went and got himself horse-tranquilised to death by some quack (twat) doctor… Continue reading »
Did you know that native American Indians used to name their children after the 1st thing they saw as they emerged – proud as punch in the after-glow of childbirth – from the teepee?
Hence some curious names like “Buffalo’s Arse” and “Two Dogs Fucking”… Continue reading »
/rating_on.png "1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5")
/rating_half.png "2 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5")
