Here are a few bits and pieces from last night that made me laugh at the time, and so I'm keeping them here in my blog/diary/scrapbook - hunkahunka burnin' vanity!
On Boy George:
He's forgotten to paint his neck black, thoughbut so I can tell that he really is Fat George and not Svelte George.
When he paints his neck black I can't tell that he's fat you see. It's like magic. BLACK magic!
hahahahahahaha!
On Peg McCartney and the tramps bussed in from Hyderabad to micturate upon her person:
It was the talk of the Hammersmith underpass or something. They queued for hours to piss on her.
That's why she puts on the stretch legs now and has a little wee on Africa. She re-enacts her shame in the only way she knows how. She tries to direct her wee wee so it lands on Ethiopia and the Sudan and places where it's not very rainy and then when they look up and shake their fists at her she's all 'I am a goddess, you ungrateful bastards, my wee wee is like golden rain, it'll make your crops grow, you fucking fuckers!'
Of course it does make some minging carrots grow, but they taste of piss, so no one wants them.
On Childhood ignorance which may be bliss:
When I was growing up and I first heard of Al Jolson and saw the Black and White Minstrels, I thought they were all actual black men and I didn't know why they wanted to paint their mouths and around their eyes, white.
I also didn't know why they were so fucking shit.
There was Otis and Marvin and stuff and then there were these strange men in boaters and stripey blazers who were very shit - what was going on? My poor little brain used to wonder.
Then again I'm also the child who wondered why everyone hated Hitler so much and thought that a tv advert for Planet of the Apes was in fact a news bulletin and that apes were taking over the world and couldn't figure out why no one seemed at all bothered about it.
I was a wee bit special.
On Orcadians' rightful and wrongful beliefs:
They're right to believe in the debbil, but they're very wrong to dress him in a tutu and call him Susan.
I'd always had my suspicions about that Edward Woodward being a reanimated corpse - and I'm right!
Did you know that he was the Yoko Ono of the Police? Basically he met Stewart Copeland and said 'Sting bad. You come play drum for me now. Me make Equalizer. Me want your drum. You play. Me like.' (he's a reanimated corpse, and his language is a bit basic - when he's doing the telly and films and stuff they dub him with Frank Spencer whose Betty he married). Copeland saw that he was right and he had a fight with Sting and killed him and joined the Equalisers.
Unfortunately Andrew Lloyd Weber gave Sting the kiss of life and created a Monkey-faced Cunt out of bin bags and potato peelings to be his wife.
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