Friday, February 14, 2014

I am a bad boy and will post lots now. A Valentine special.

Sorry hey. Really.

I cannot believe I have not posted for so long. I will make up big time.

But – here is a start.

I have so much to do I am not really know where to start. First stop, clean up the flat including the dirty plates and pots and pans etc. After my recent experience in the UK, noting the local's attitude for keeping the country tidy, I had two choices. Flood the joint and hope the crap pours away down the stairs into the cellar and I can blame it on severe weather - or simply heave the lot out the window into the farmer's field.

I could kick in the door and tell my Boss a bad man broke in and stole my entire stock of food making and eating on porcelain stuff etc..etc, and can I claim on the insurance?

Weirdly, with everything Made in China these days, I was puzzled by some cups that were labelled 'Bone China'. I concluded that those Chinese that are too bone idle to make iPhones and are paid half a penny a day to make cups.


Whilst over there where it rains a lot, I purchased a massive amount of paper in a bag called 'Sunday Guardian'. I like the Guardian, great Tories bashers, not that I like Labour or those half wits, Liberals, but inside was enough free crap to open up your own paper recycling joint.

This one was called 'ShortList'. It sort of tells you about latest films, PlayStation games, music, books, theatre and fashion etc.

Laugh, I nearly passed a fart on the 112 bus between Blackley and Piccadilly.

Can you imagine at the height of the Bush War, having an advert like this as a reason for joining the armed forces...

So, it goes like this -

Prime minister, Great Bwana Smithy is being briefed by Walls.

“Walls, we are running out of white fodder. What shall we do?”

The walls look blankly back and a crack appears just above his own portrait.

Turning one droopy eye to a short bloke lolling in chair, he shrugs helplessly.

LootGenerally, Pete Walls, head of all Jocks, sniggers into his can of Castle.

“We call up the Morphs. I can send a battalion into the Botanical Gardens and round up at least a 1000 fairies. A bayonet up the bum will make them change their mind about doing there fairy bit.”

The Great Bwana Smithy is appalled.

“Bugger that. We can't go around sticking it. Besides they might like it. You, there, what is your input?. His one good eye swivels to the form of the Foreign Minister, P.K Van full of Vile, who his cleaning his nails.

“I believe, with my experience from visiting places outside Rhodesia (South Africa), I have plan.” Explains the dandy as he brushes a bit of dandruff from his Sav-vile Road suit pre WW2 fashion.

“We must make the morphs HAPPY to get killed. In a stick of five or seven, they could bring up the rear. I suggest a campaign that will bring them out the bush, dress them as trees and send them back again. With luck, the gooks, having a tradition of hating bummers, will run a click or two.”

The Great Bwana Smithy nodded his head.

“Agreed, start the campaign, call it 'Operation Valentino', as this is is the 14th of February.


Well, the rest is history, and they nearly all died.

Pure satire by -

Karl Greenberg

BA (Hons) Open (Open)
Dip LCW (Open)
Cert Hum (Open)
Author of the cult classics – Last of the Rhodesians - Chronicles of an African Anarchist
The Gokwe Kid and Simply the Pest
(Available worldwide on Amazon)

1 comment:

John said...