I MISSED Fairfield Parlour while I was perched precariously on a scaffold pole having a shit, 10 foot above a trench full of the stuff. I missed a few more acts queuing at the Salvation Army tent for a plate of porridge (or what looked like porridge, ...
TWO thumbs way up to BP, it really knows how to get up the Yanks’ noses. After coating the coastline of America’s southern states with crude its beleaguered boss Tony Hayward decided to take his yacht out into the clear blue waters round the Isle of ...
IF I were to print in this column that you were a bastard kiddy fiddling moron with a small dick and a face like a warthog’s arse I’d be in a spot of trouble. The fact that you’d come and punch my lights out would be the least of my problems.
OK, obviously I don’t know where YOU stand on the drugs argument and whether or not they should be legalised. But I want to because I’m in danger of splitting my arse sitting on the fence.
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