Monkeys Fist

CT after a dig at the Sluice.

@Tom I’ll post a pic of Fist Jnr giving it Angus Young if I get it fixed. I’ve just told him and he’s so excited he’s shaking like a shitting Renton

Fair dos.

Aye, that’s not shadow in the background, it’s a gas cloud.

Isn’t Renton still isolating? I suppose we could schlep down to the coast and take a shit in his garden? Either way, if Fist Jnr makes it as a Guitar God it’ll make for an interesting tale of how he came to own his second guitar.

Nice one man! So, we meet at 8:30pm in Havana nature reserve car park, a well known dogging site ( so I’m told). We park up, flash our lights three times each, then exit the vehicles and approach each other, whilst wearing our IRA balaclavas. You shout “ Chinese Mouse!” in your most offensive Asian accent you can muster, I’ll recite some of James Joyce’s filth in my best Norn Iron accent. We make the switch, back away, never breaking our gaze, repeating our arranged lines. At no point do we even acknowledge the presence of shady blokes with rapidly wilting dicks in hands. Or, dm me your address and I’ll nip round at a suitable time. ( I’ll let the Littlewood reference slide this time, since you’re giving me a guitar for nowt, but… thin ice man, thin ice )

Are you really going to bin it Gemmill? If so, I’ll take it for Fist Jnr and see if I can replace the fret? I realise that would involve a face-to-face meeting, which you may understandably be intimidated by, so we can do a dead-drop in Gossy Park and pretend we’re spies.

What are the odds she was surfing the turtle whilst they took the photo?

No need for that kind of language tbh.

You can kind of understand why he became obsessed with her ringpiece …

I think he might have been in the Kid Dynamite club tbh. “You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole.”

That’s all very well Gloomy, but since we’re talking bollocks … Yiz playin pool n yiz snookad, can yiz play the jump shot? ( hitting cue baal awwa anuntha baal te hit ya cullad baal)? Yes ah nah?

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-beds-bucks-herts-59386261.amp and… https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-59937510 So, @Christmas Tree , having been comprehensively rinsed by a beginner 13yr old lass and a Spanish badger, is it time to hang up the bleepy stick yet?

I hope you pay them danger money.

Sounds like you do anyway. Imagine walking down Northumberland St. and seeing Renton curling out a steamer outside of Fenwicks, waving his Poo Pass lanyard at everyone as they recoil in horror. “ IT’S FINE- MY BOTTOM IS … …NNNNNGGGGHHHAAAH… …DISABLED!” *edited for added mental imagery.

“ Mam, can you remember when we walked up that mountain and the sweaty man at the top did a poo and EVERYONE COULD HEAR HIM GRUNTING AND PLOPPING?” ” Yes dear, but let’s try to forget”.

I did ponder whether to leave a meaty nugget for the local fauna to nibble on, but they mightn’t like spicy food so I took the bag option, also, I’m not a FUCKING SAVAGE!

Once you can forgive, but this bloke landed in the same spot twice??? What a whopper.

Have you read James Joyce’s filthy love letters to his Mrs? https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/74934/13-nsfw-lines-james-joyces-incredibly-dirty-love-letters The bloke would’ve loved glass coffee tables.

Due to starting work at the ungodly hour of 6a.m. this morning, my nipsy decided to have a lie-in and wasn’t having it when I did my morning ablutions. As expected, at around 9:30 Captain Cack started knocking on the back door, and by 10:00 he was kicking it down. Luckily I’m on a rural route today, and was heading towards Alston. Found a suitable spot to pull over, headed in to the woods with the Shit Kit, and did a Bear Grylls. (The Shit Kit is several opaque plastic bags, plenty of bog roll, and a pack of wet wipes.) Jobby done, it’s then a case of tieing the literal parcel of shite to the passenger wing mirror and carrying on until a bin can be found. In this case, it was Allendale. It requires a certain combination of nonchalance and arrogance to stroll across the market square with last nights dinner swinging in a bag by your side, but luckily I’m short of neither, so the offending Baby’s Arm was duly deposited and I carried on with my day. The point to this long-winded Faecal Farce is that, possibly due to my pipecutter detecting the gentle breeze of Nature’s breath whistling down the Dark Canyon, I also drew an ace today. Giddup! Edit; Standing wipe, obvs.

I hope he’s gone for “loss of earnings” from taking down his Chav Shop signs, as the only way that’ll be proven will have to examine the value of the advertising to his company, and the “cost” of said advertising. We all know the answers, just be nice to see it in legal papers.

“ Hi Mike, Can you meet us at the embassy in Turkey to discuss a settlement in this case of yours? We’ll pay for all flights and disposal…cough… return travel- yes return travel, ahem, definitely return travel…”

Wtf?