A car crash?

When I got hit by a car last night -

My own fault really. Well pissed, I was staggering from the pub after they threw me out, (bastards – all I did was wee in an empty pint pot and drink it for a bet), and… was looking for my wheels.

I knew, or vaguely remembered, I think I had driven to the pub and parked up but now I was not so sure.

I was confused. Not intoxicated. Just well trashed. I could not even remember my name, nor could I see my feet that seemed to work on their own – backwards.

I found the key fob. Must have taken 20 minutes between vomiting a bad pint to work out ‘open door’ button.

Flashing orange lights – yes… there was my Babe half way up a tree. (Er – was a bit drunk when I came to drink more and with no parking place, I stuck my four by four up the tree…). Besides the point.

Can we cut to the chase?

Blah-blah-blah. Get on with it man.

Okay. A precis. Yes? A summery?

Good. It works like this. I am drunk, walking backwards across a busy road and get hit by a car.

Goodnight – Lights out.

The Man named Some Bloke

The Man named Some Bloke

Poor bloke. Bloke’s parents shagged each other. The mother was a cheap tart willing to do a quickie for any bloke spending the price of a pint of gin. The father was some bloke she met in a pub.

With a belly full of cheap gin and some bloke’s kid, she popped it out.

Totally pissed out of her box -including the kid who emerged totally pissed out of her box, pissed out of his box – she mumbled the father was some bloke and the kid’s name will be ‘Some Bloke’.

Some Bloke grew up; which is normal in the English language as no one grows down.

However – he was destined to spend most of his life in prison. A total innocent - he was accused of every crime.

In court, any defence of, ‘Some bloke did it.’ Was enough to get Some Bloke locked up again and again.

Some Bloke, after 45 years spent in prison with a few months break – had, had enough and he hung himself with the assistance of some bloke.

His death certificate was inconclusive because Some Bloke must have had some bloke to assist him. They do not know who this bloke is besides someone.

The Resta Rawt

In the restaurant.

I went to a restaurant. I needed a rest from my wife’s cooking. Actually – she had left me the night before and I can not cook more than a slice of toast which always popped up burnt.

I looked in my fridge and after moving her severed head aside – concluded there was nothing to eat.

So I went out to the local restaurant. I have never been there before.

No idea what kind of restaurant it was. I presumed it made food and fed you.

I sat down and attempted to navigate around the menu offering offal. Heart, lungs, intestines, kidneys, bowels and spinal cords.

I called over the nearest waiter, dressed quite smartly in total white. Politely I asked in a rather loud voice, as I had had a hard day hacking up the wife -

‘Hey, twat head, I didn’t come here to be offered on the menu the bits I just ripped out my ex. I want some chop suey and chop chop. With some basmati rice. Got it? You fucking idiot.’

The man ran off really chop chop. I was amazed – within 10 minutes I was served by 6 waiters in dark uniforms serving me an arrest warrant for disturbing the peace. Well…

I kicked up a serious storm.

My nick name is King Kong Kill – an expert in Kung Fu. It was I who kicked the shit of Bruce Lee because his ‘eeeh..ya.hat- hat eish’ yowling got on my nerves.

Besides the point.

Now I must kick to death a load of wasters refusing to wait on me. What a waste of bother boots – I wonder why I bother?

With the waiters dead and no sign of my food, I wandered out.

Looked about – then clocked I had accidently gone into an organ donation clinic.

Ahh – what the fuck. Next door was a KFC. I love deep fried chicken.

Lost Time?

To much messing with FB.

But loads of sketches.

I totally forgot about this place.

So get ready.

Here are some quickies to start you off -

The facts of life

When you awake in bed and your partner stinks, is corpus cosmos and ice cold – it means they need a stiff drink.

If you read your horoscope – you tend to find the yesterday’s version was better.

Looking at the clock makes you go tick tock in the head.

A vulture above your head is better than a horse’s head in your bed.

A smartly dressed man is usually an insurance sales man or second-hand car dealer.

Anyone peddling Jesus, hopes to raise enough money for an Electric powered bike to get up there.

A foreigner is none other than someone who has not a clue who you are.

It is easier to drop bombs than ban plastic straws

Adding a peeled potato into your wash will make your clothes come out starched.

If you go to Africa and stand on an anthill with one leg – it means you are an amputee.

The best thinking ever done is when sitting on the toilet and there is no more paper.

Sex with a pauper will leave you penniless.

Defecating in a creek has nothing to do with a paddle and shit street.