that film about the bus that had to keep its speed above 50mph, and if it went below that speed at all the bus would have exploded?

 

I think it was called.......'The Bus that Couldn't Slow Down'

So theres I am, in work, AGAIN, sat in the back humouring myself by slapping Phil in the face with a fish, when I decide that it would be a good idea if Captain Clougal rang up soccerzone to find out when the Claytonians answer to the Claytonians should turn on Monday so we can batter a team for 40 minutes and lose 1-0.  Much to my astonishment, :0 <--------------(check out my astonishment), I find out my sending off had been registered (all I did was high five the guy with my forehead), and it turns out I've been banned for 60 days and fined £75 for head to head collision with voilent intent, this I felt was rather harsh, the rest of the conversation went as follows

 

Clougal: So wait, wait a minute my homeboy, you're telling me, that if I just kick the living fuck out of him without using my head at all I would have got less.

 

Soccerzone:  Erm, yeh

 

Clougal: So wait, wait a minute a minute my compadre, you're telling me, that if I snapped his neck in half, I would have got less

 

Soccerzone: Erm yeh

 

Clougal: So wait, wait a minute Evening News team, you're telling me, that if I snapped his neck in half, went in the back, raped the fine bird who works behind the counter, took a chainsaw out, massacred the rest of his team mates, and then went down to London and took a piss on Tony Blairs doorstep........I would have got less.

 

Soccerzone: Erm, hang on a minute

 

*Put on hold, Happy Days theme tune playing*

 

Soccerzone: You there Lee?

 

Clougal: Sunday, Monday, HAPPY DAYS, Tuesday, Wednesday, HAPPY DAYS, Thursday,Friday, HAPPY DAYS, the weekend comes, my cycle hums, ready to come to you, dur dur da dum.

 

Soccerzone: LEE!!

 

Clougal: What?

 

Soccerzone: We've had a look for ya

 

Clougal: Look at what?

 

Soccerzone: That thing you mentioned

 

Clougal: What thing? who is this? Fonzie? is that you?

 

Soccerzone: Heyyyyyy, dont touch the leather

 

Clougal: Sorry

 

Soccerzone: Its soccerzone, that thing you mentioned bout pissing on the PC Plods shoes on Downing Street.

 

Clougal: Oh yeh

 

Soccerzone: 4 week fine, slap on the wrist off Linda

 

Clougal:  Oooh kinky

 

Soccerzone:  But hey, you sound like a good guy

 

Clougal: I do dont I

 

Soccerzone: Erm...yeh, we might be able to help, do you happen to be in the possession of a fish??

 

Clougal:  What a coincidence.

 

 

Moral of story:  If you can slap Phil with it, its worth keeping hold of.

 

The Following is based on actual events.

 

Only the names, locations and events have been changed.

 

 

So anyways, I'm just hanging about, doing my thing right and this guy comes up to me and says "alright cloughie you pet detective son of a bitch", and i goes "alright jimbob you.........................................................

 

He then goes "hows it goin"

 

and I goes "all..........................................right"

 

and he goes "..........................................good"

 

and I goes "............................................tah"

 

True story, you should have been there.

So anyways right, I'm in the work the other day right, and this thing approaches me right, I think it was female right, as her voice resembled a squeaky  liam gallagher as she shouted at the quadruple pram set of little mini chavs, all appropriately named Axel, Foley, Shaft, and Bastard.  So she comes up to me and goes "EYA, gizzuz sum fuckin rizla man befour i gets me boyfrendz down to bang yas yuh".  Not overly excited at the prospect of getting gang raped by the burberry clan, I rather confusingly replied 'yuh?'.  And then she went 'yuh', and I was like 'yuh??' and she added "well yuh".  This stimulating conversation goes on for a good ten minutes before I think to myself...'fuck this'.

 

I then proceeded to scream at the top of my voice 'WITCH!!'.  Now those of you who are unfamiliar with this term, its a sort of battle cry used in the land of Shaw to gather my many cousins at short notice.  Sort of like the 'WHITEMAN' war cry used in Glodwick.  So anyways, no sooner I finished pronouncing this term had the community of Shaw gathered round our small little tesco, all on horseback and armed with slack jaws, flaming torches, trojans, the whole shabang.  This scene gave me fond memories of back in the day, 9 am in the morning to be exact, to when we had our last witch burning. 

 

Fortunately, I'd managed to aquire a plank of wood known as Chappy to be used to tie the chav-ette to, but what to tie her with?? Thankfully, the local farmers daughter, 'Lou-anne' had remembered that the stable boy had left some rope behind at her place after he came round to fertilise her bush.  So off we all goes to the farm to have ourselves a little barbeque.

 

And what a roasting it was too, Lou-Anne as always the darling, was the centre of attention....big, small, black white, submarines, they all got their taste of the action.

 

Oh yeh, the chav burned well too.

 

 

Morale of story, if you see a chav, burn it.

So anyways, morning comes and its time to do what I do everyday, try and take over the WORLD. Admittedly though, 'Pinky' had woken up a little earlier than the 'Brain' and a quick right handed massage was required to calm down the excitable little one eyed rodent.  Tune of the day = "Whats the Story Morning Glory"