15/12/2012

I am the news...

So, yeah, I was news this week. Nothing important or anything, just mocking the world's most famous vicar (after Father Dougal)...

Click this here ----> Linky

Oh yeah. Take that Popey. That'll have him crying into his funny hat.

To be fair, I've tweeted much funnier tweets. Still, you gets what you pays for, and I've not been paid. They should pay me.

Oh, and no, the pope didn't reply. Not even a LOL. Miserable sod.

ALTERNATIVE TITLES TO THIS BLOG...
Stick that in your Pope and Smoke it
Fudge vs Pope Round 1
Mass Effect IV
Don't Stop Bibleieving
Pwned the Pwpe
Pontifex cakes are not liquorice

08/12/2012

Fudgenam Style!

And here's a funky little treat for all of you...



Mistletoe and Wine. With wine.

Let's play the Mistletoe and Wine drinking game!
Down a big glass every time young Mr Richards sings wine!
Go!

The child is a king
the caroller sing

The old is past
there's a new beginning.
Dreams of Santa
dreams of snow

Fingers numb
faces aglow
it's -

Christmas time
mistletoe and WINE!

Children singing Christain rhyme..
With longs on the fire and gits on the tre
E

A time too rejoce in the goo that we se.

A time for living
a time for believering

A tim four trustig
no deceving.
Lov an laufghtr and joy never affter

Houurs for the talking
just folow the masterr.

Chrismas tme
misletoe annd WINE!!!!!

ChIdden siging Chrisanin rind..
With lobs on fire and giraffes up trees

Time toe something in the good that we seee.

Shhhh night
holy cow mooooo Hahaha-

It's a time for bed I not go bed rarr
a tim for get a kebab

A time forr forskinhahaha an fuor sgimhllllll.
CHRISMARS!!!!! is looove andd
CHRISTMSA is penis
Hahahajaja
A time for hatting nd fightering too please.

Chrimas ti
mtoe and WINNE!!!!

Chuffingn sigging Chrining rimpe..
Who loops of te fired an shi1ts on the treee

Tim Vincent to r5ejoin in the where's mg kebab that weeeeee

Christleas tiiiiime
mibgletoe nd WWW1ne!haja
Just sigggun same bit adgain
And tije top rrjoon im goon day ilk jhfd rarr
Kringkas tiomhsip.  Vsh
mishhyhbgletoe and WINE!!!11!1
Pod jjjjjjjjjjhbhbbbhh
J

Pof

No mo win win badd fele poorly
Shoow me yor bra.

Sleeping Beauty, Cheese Toasties.

Right then, story time.
Are you sitting comfortably? No? Well see a doctor and he should be able to prescribe some lotion. Now I'll begin.

Once upon a time there were a King and Queen and they were having issues having kids and that. This was the olden days before IVF and folk didn't understand ovulation and cycles and all the other stuff that you have to know about if you're a broody woman. Anyway, eventually the King got his willy in the right hole and the Queen did a wee on a stick and found out she was pregnant and everyone was happy, despite the pisspoor medical technology available at the time.
So, the pregnancy went off without a hitch, the Queen probably had a craving for extra strong mints dipped in peanut butter and the King spent most nights sleeping on the sofa because his wife slept like a concrete starfish that had swallowed a lawnmower engine. The baby was born, maybe on a Tuesday, I'm not sure, it doesn't matter, I doubt the historical authenticity of this tale anyway. Let's just say it's a Tuesday and get on with it. This is probably the last time I'll mention a specific day anyway, so you really have no point of reference. Tuesday. There. Shut up.

The baby was a girl and was named Aurora,  because her parents were actually involved in a complez sting operation to expose and arrest all school bullies and giving their daughter a silly name was the best idea they could think of. Well, that and they were going to make her learn to play the oboe.
A great celebration was held and all the fairies in the land were invited to the party. The meaning of fairy in this sense referring to little floating witches with wings, not as an offensive term referring to homosexual men. I'm not sure which would have been the better choice for the better party. There'd probably be about as much glitter. I'm allergic to glitter, it makes my hands go all swelled up and itchy. It's bloody horrible. Anyway, S Club 7 hadn't been invented yet, so the king and queen decided to settle on the little witches.
Oh, and you know I said they invited all the fairies, well they didn't invite one bad fairy, probably because she was a racist or maybe it was the time she tried to give the king a drunken blowjob in the kitchen last August at the annual barbecue. For whatever reason, she was blacklisted and didn't get an invite to the party.
Rather than giving the baby traditional presents, the fairies all decided to give her magical presents. One gave Aurora the gift of beauty, implying that without her gift she would be a right munter. Another gave her the gift of song, and so on. There were loads of fairies with gifts, and not one iTunes credit voucher amongst them, much to the despair of the king, as he was looking forward to downloading the new War of the Worlds album.
The bad fairy showed by just as the last fairy was about to give Aurora her gift (free wi-fi access in all Beefeater gastropubs). Angry at not being invited, and quite drunk on a mixture of sherry and Dooley's toffee liquer, she gave the baby her own gift, promising that on her 18th birthday she would prick her finger on some sort of old fashioned knitting robot and would die. Probably of tetanus or something, general hygiene and antibiotics not being of a passable quality at this time.
The bad fairy then got a taxi and buggered off back to Russia or whatever, leaving everyone else a bit annoyed and probably horny, because bad fairies always dress the sexiest, fishnets and corsets and that.
Now, there was one fairy left who had yet to give the princess her gift and seeing as the Wi-Fi at the Beefeater is pisspoor slow at best, she instead used her magical gift to change the bad fairy's spell a bit. (Why the fairies only get to give one gift each is beyond me, possibly they didn't have enough virgins or goats to sacrifice in order to perform their magical rituals, or maybe they were just tight)
Anyway, the spell was changed at a small print level so instead of dying from the knitting robot accident, Aurora would instead fall asleep for ages and ages, and could only be awoken by a kiss from a passing Prince.
So, anyway, all that happened.
There was a dragon and that too apparently. Turns out all right at the end I gather, the bad fairy dies and there is a wedding and that. Some nonsense with colour changing dresses and that.
Never got to watch the end of the film, ironically I fell asleep. Didn't wake up getting kissed though. Next door's car alarm went off and I thought it was an Zombie Warning Alarm or something. I'd just had a fair bit of cheese. A cheese toastie actually. It was really nice. Dipped it in ketchup and that. Tasty. You should have a cheese toastie. Just remember to butter the wrong side of the bread because of reasons.

The End. Sorry.

01/12/2012

Two Seasons Later...

So, yeah, hello. Been a while, you've lost weight, changed your hair,  a smashing blouse, etc.

It was pointed out to me yesterday that I haven't updated my blog for two seasons, having hit a Mojo-draining chasm following some damn good Olympic rambling. So, now I'm bored and guarding coats while the kids do their dance classes, and I might as well splurge some words before I get declared dead, in an internetting ranter type way.

So, the blog continues/plods along... I am writing this instead of getting a cup of overpriced manky coffee, made by the grumpy cafe lady here, which as well as showing my commitment to writing something, also means I have £3 to spend at the shops later (£5 if I had decided to have a croissant).

So, what have I been up to, besides not updating this here generally ignored piece of interweb? Well, I have been working, doing the old locksmith thing, fixing doors that have been destroyed by months of drenching in tramp urine. I've also been playing the Facebook game, Marvel Avengers Alliance, which despite being incredibly dull, is incredibly easy to play and only a tad less addictive than cigarettes laced with heroin and sellotaped onto free hardcore porn.

Apart from that, well nothing much. I've not been giving twitter the attention it deserves of late either, not sure if that's because I'm bored with it or if I'm scared that i'll end up making a joke that offends the wrong person and I end up in jail for a million years or paying a fine of over £35. Because I only have £35. And I probably won't have that for long because it is nearly Christmas and the girls need so much money spent on absolutely nothing that I am spending most nights eating a Goblin Curry Pie with my eyes closed, pretending it is an extra value meal at McDonalds. Kids and spouses are expensive, if you're out looking for one, I'd recommend you save your money and buy a reggae reggae chicken panini from Panini Shack instead. Sure, you won't get the love and affection, but you'll at least be able to play Lego in the nude on the kitchen floor whilst eating micro-noodles with a flip-flop.

So, that is 375 words. Should I write more? According to this Writer app on my phone you'll have finished reading it within 90 seconds. Is that long enough to convince you that I'm back to being awesome. I could really do with getting a cup of coffee. Especially as the grumpy cafe woman has gone and been replaced with the one with freckles who always gives me too much change. Yeah, I reckon it might be coffee time.

Have fun, might see you soon.

Or in April.