Saturday, November 23, 2019

Bingo, King of the Bongos – Part 5.


Bingo, King of the Bongos Part 5.

Bingo grinned, flared nostrils dripping white, coke infused snot. He sniffed hard, rolled his eyes, Good morning you three shit heads. Or is it good mourning or good moaning? So what did you three get up two last night? Bingo squeezes his daughters breasts appreciatively as she head dives into her cocaine and crispiest Kelloggs rare leprosy skin flakes, with a dash of murdered mothers milk.

My head hurts.

Dad, how come Sky news just shows some clown from Mac Donalds talking about Brexit What is this thing, Brexit?. You can stop playing with my tits now.

Tracy wanders in. Beautiful as ever. Bowed legged, hair like she just been pulled through a thorn bush backwards, totally naked and scratches at her semi-shaved armpits. Brexit is when a Frenchman fucks a German up the arse and the English poofters think that is crass.
Papa, it is my birthday today. Where is my present? ` Macho sulks.
Here it is. A one-way ticket to the Congo for you and your sister and…’

My head hurts.

And him. Bye. Have fun saving the world. Try not to come back as I will have you killedbadly.

Meanwhile things are going tits up on the stock market. A recession looms. Millions of uneducated, penniless peasants are invading Europe looking for freebies and the woman, smelling badly of crusty sweat and ingrained crotch nits, jumping on any old white limp dick promising a marriage and a passport to the manna of benefits.

Can the terrible triplets save the world? Stay tuned


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