“Right, so I, I, I went out for a jog this morning (because the cameras were there) and as I ran through the park, I was confronted by two black personages. I thought I might be in trouble but luckily these particular piccanninies greeted me with watermelon smiles instead of knives and asked if I could score some decent Bolivian blow. I said I knew a Papua New Guinean chap round the corner who I could pick up from as long as he didn’t put me in his pot and cannibalise me first. That’s what they all do. Anyway, after furnishing these disreputable Low IQ louches (who probably don’t even realise that Obama is Kenyan) with baggies of icing sugar, I ended up at the adjacent Gurdwara having something of a ding dong with the local Sikhs. Apparently, they didn’t appreciate my drug dealings and took umbrage to my suggestion that they quaff a glass of Armand de Brignac Champagne or two. How is one expected to know that they don’t drink? Luckily, one or two of them were of the Falstaffian fat fuck variety so I told them it was their own fault and rugby tackled the smallest one to the ground. Unfortunately, the kicking off of this cacophonous kerfuffle piqued the curiosity of the Mosque across the road where I’d called the Turkish Imam a goat-fucker the previous evening and suddenly I was surrounded by Muslims disguised as bank robbers dressed as letterboxes, wearing suicide vests. Amid the brouhaha I pleaded with them that I most certainly wasn’t a tank-top wearing bumboy fop but it was sadly a fraction of a second too la..” BOOOOOOOOM!
Wednesday 12 June 2019
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