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:
My name’s Stan Trolley – and I’m a Joke-a-holic… A washed-up clown, caught in a vortex in an extra large Wheeliebin: I seek the Holy Grail of Comedy – only the World’s funniest Joke will finally set me free…
Poor old John Cleese ey?
Acrimonious divorce number three – from the very lovely Alyce Gold-Digger-Burger er, Eichelberger , or wo’eva (actually “Ice-Cold-Burger “ more like – don’t suppose she ever put out much)… Continue reading »
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