London 2012 Olympics exclusive – Zimbabwe’s Kirsty Coventry – an alien!

The world was left recoiling after it was informed by the head of GS4 that high powered scans, used by short term employed benefit scroungers (on really a penny above minimum wage), have picked up the fact that Kirsty Conventry, the much meddled Zimbabwean swimmer, is in fact the evil Gokwe Mermaid dressed in a rubber suit of attractive human female proportions.

 

Mr Cool Beans, the well renowned head of the world’s largest private security firm - who coins 750k a year for being a complete idiot, and Tory supporter.

 

Lord Coe, who is sort of in charge of London’s sporting extravagance paid with quantitative easing, when told of the allegations responded immediately –

‘Holy cow! Yes, I recall the Gokwe Mermaid incident. I thought the Mumbo-Jumbo witch doctors had sorted it out. Bloody hell, this bad news. Still, I must say, the rubber suit is very impressive. Well, it is just as well the thing was disguised as a whitey! There would have been some right stink otherwise. Strip the thing of all the old medals and prepare a firing squad.’

The infamous Gokwe Mermaid. Details are here in an exclusive for LOTR

Minutes  after Lord Coe’s comments hit the airwaves, supporters were twittering so much; the NHS A&E were overloaded with sprained thumbs and forefingers.

‘It is all that twat Danny Boyle’s fault,’ screamed one 65 year old Polish nurse as she gently pried the semi-melted smart phone from an Essex obese chav teenager’s crippled hand,

‘most of our staff were fucking around at the opening ceremony last night and are still too pissed to come to work. Is this anyway to run a country in the EU?’

The Zimbabwean government spokesman, Brainless Bunga-Bunga, denied all accusations.

‘I, aah… cannot comment because the West have imposed sanctions on anything I say.’

As the scandal rapidly unfolded, renowned scientific experts were quick to note that as Eastern Zimbabwe have a rare tribe, the Doma people, with only two toes, it was quite feasible that the Gokwe Mermaid had environmentally changed the usual dolphin tail ending in a fin, into a pair of legs. But they concluded on a serious note that they think it was all genetically engineered hanky-panky from the Chinese.

Meanwhile, latest reports are that the Gokwe Mermaid has fled to the Ecuadorian Embassy and asked for political asylum. It is also rumoured that there could be a bit more hanky-panky with some Aussie bloke also holed up there whilst training to win gold for swimming in shit for dear life.

The Gokwe Kid and the case of the nicked knickers

Sitting at his desk contemplating why anyone would spend quarter of a million pounds for a machine to make plastic wine glasses (part of his present university module), the Gokwe Kid received some grave news from Zimbabwe. Opening the letter for which he had to pay the transport cost (broadband), he read a remarkable report from his old sleuthing grounds –

Police probe mystery woman's underwear snatcher

New Zimbabwe [online] 23 July 2012-07-23

GOKWE police say they have been asked to investigate after 26 women went to sleep with their panties on – then woke up to find themselves naked, a newspaper reported.

The panties were later found in a heap in the local Njelele Village, and 17 were positively identified by their owners.

A spokesman for Gokwe police confirmed they were investigating the bizarre incident, adding that they were minded to exercise discretion and allow local leaders to try traditional solutions. Chief Njelele, the local traditional leader, has since requested police permission to conduct a witch hunt, the Bulawayo Chronicle reported.

The chief told the newspaper: “What happened in my area is so scary and everyone is in a state of shock and panic. I have called for a meeting with my subjects in the two villages where the incident occurred and I am scheduled to meet them so that we chart the way forward.”

According to Chief Njelele, on July 11 this month, “the majority of women” in two local communities under village heads Pauro and Chariseka went to sleep with their panties on – but mysteriously woke up in the nude.

 “After we reported the matter to the police at Gokwe Police Station, 17 women from Pauro and Charusekera positively identified their garments in the presence of the police,” the chief said.

“The remaining panties have not been identified maybe because of their state.

"Police, however, recorded 26 complaints from the village which tallies with the number of underwear which were found in the bush.”

The chief said he was in talks with police to invite self-styled prophets known locally as tsikamutandas to conduct a witch hunt to smoke out the “trouble causers”.

Whoever is fingered as responsible will be hauled before the chief’s court and punished – which could be in the form of a fine or expulsion from the village.

_ _ _

The great Gokwe Kid – Dick of the Bushveld, super sleuth, sucked on the slimy saliva dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. At last – something to get his nose into and solve yet another Gokwe mystery. Googling rapidly he looked up the word ‘innuendo’ (after several attempts to spell it correctly), and came to a cotton picking conclusion.

1. He had no time to fanny around on this case; no matter how funny it smelled.

2. Time was definitely an essence. One whiff that the Gokwe Kid was looking in every nook and nanny for the crook - he/she would will-o'-the-wisp away.

Rapidly the Kid checked over his budget airline sized, brown cardboard boy’s suitcase with its cracking, badly painted logo  - The Gokwe Kid Hardy Boys Pvt Dick Kit Kase - and smiled gently. Aah, those were the days. At least now, since he started university, he knew that he had spelt Kase incorrectly. Taking a black marker, he corrected the error into Kace.

The contents winked suggestively out, but sadly the polymer blow-up doll seemed to have degenerated over the last three decades and was quickly disposed off. The DNA kit seemed fine; even the microscope’s label ‘Property of Allan Wilson High School’ was still readable.

Throwing in a pair of shorts and a vest, the Kid had in a few clicks printed out an open return boarding card for any business class flight to his homeland with Air Zimbabwe from Gatwick. He knew from his immaculate memory  that they flew regularly. He could hop on anytime.

Before that the brilliant detective tossed into the encrypted search machine for head dicks a few key words – photo – panties – pervert – images, and soon had an idea of the type of culprit he was looking for. He wasn’t too bothered that it looked like a white man on some British council estate - this was negligible. It would be the body language he would recognise.

After hitching to Gatwick, he was rather alarmed to hear that there were some delays. Every minute counted. The Kid needed to be sniffing the culprit out before the scent went stiff and cold. Using his incredible powers of subtle questioning of every person wearing a uniform in Gatwick, the Kid concluded after 3 days that, it appears Air Zimbabwe has gone tits-up and will not be flying to the UK in the very long next foreseeable future – ain’t that just the pants!

Cold case closed.

Mugabe - My Part In His Victory

Mugabe - My Part In His Victory 

by

Chris Walmsley

Hi all. I have been rather busy (my last OU module)  and stressed, hence no contact. However, I did manage to read the above book recently and will give you my opinion.

Chris was an NSPO (National Service Patrol Officer), with the BSAP. It appears he was one of the first (give or take 400 odd) and at the age of 24 he is called up in January 1974. This was all very interesting, like, how the government decided that anyone with a degree would make cracking police officers regardless of the fact several appear to be either lumps of lard or - fanatically, rugby possessed psychos. (A theme that does become rather tedious - along with rowing.) So, as such, his regard for us more cerebrally questionable regulars as I would become, is well documented but can be taken tongue in cheek or perhaps a bayonet in author’s anal orifice - depending on what mood and intoxication you are in when you read this memoir.

Punctuation and grammar are of high standard but unfortunately, the clown who told him that inset paragraphs are a thing of the past and every one should be started double spaced down and in line; was spaced out on double rums. It is very annoying and does hamper the relatively easy flow of the narrative. (Please note that Facebook is just as backward and we are forced to also write the same dumbass way.)

Chris is a highly qualified economist (Rhodes University – oohhh), but not smart enough to realise getting a Kindle version of his book on Amazon for £1.99 might bring him in a few more sales. As an economist he writes economically and there is very little speech. When there is it is idiotically simply carried on into the above said not indented paragraphs.

Chris starts slow but eventually he is at the police academy of Morris Depot. Here we read what other writers have done before - bore us silly with how boys become men (lol) whilst throwing in some humour of questionable talent. But, we make an exception as he is not a creative writer - just an intelligent bean counter. He disguises the name of his squad’s various ‘torturers’ and describes them with enough variations of ‘ye olde cliches’ that even Charles Dickens would vomit in his grave.

Next bit is about his various postings and rugby games. It is…okay. BUT, it is after he leaves the police that he writes about what he should have done in the first place! He was very deeeep inside all the sanctions and foreign currency allocation stuff. Now that is very interesting. He knew about shenanigans that made writing on the wall immediately get censored… and as such, by mid1976 he was pulling finger to get the hell out of Rhodesia just as when ME, the future ‘The Gokwe Kid – Dick of the Bushveld’, arrived to rescue the country! (Book coming out soon.)

Historically - there are a couple of minor details I will ask the man about. He gives enough not to bore those that know and conversely enough so as not to bore those that haven’t a clue about Rhodesia. (His observations, whilst in Ireland as a student, are very interesting. Some of his fellow student’s view of his origins as a ‘racialist, land thieving, slave driving, coon flogging, white colonial bastard plantation owner’, are rather eye opening.

Finally –

Whilst the fact he plays with numbers and looks a bit of a wimp on the back cover photograph; Chris comes over as rather hardcore (unless he telling porkies), and I hazard a guess it took him some courage to write some of the more heart breaking stuff. So, all in all, I give 4 out of 5 stars.

Available here –

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mugabe-My-Part-His-Victory/dp/1908447648/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342702050&sr=1-1