What ho, Englishmen!
Bloody hell – am I the most infrequent blogger ever or what, what! I am truly awfully sorry, chaps. But punctual updates – or even occasional updates – rather go out of the window when one is confined to a Jamaican gaol for six months on charges of sexual harassment. It was a complete misunderstanding, I hasten to add! One never quite knows with these saucy mulatto waitresses* whether their protestations of chastity are sincere or merely a come-on to spank them harder! And after weeks of joy with the latter type, I stumbled on (actually, perhaps "pawed" would be the more apposite word in this instance!) one of the former and, rather regrettably, she just happened to have a Yardie brother and it all got frightfully complicated and I confess that writing “Leroy” a cheque for £50,000 to guarantee my safe passage home to England was far from being my finest hour! (Especially when the impudent swine then duly recanted on our little deal and arranged for the Kingston rozzers to arrest me at the airport!) I shan’t discuss my time in clink, suffice it to say that Harrow was excellent preparation!
But that’s quite enough of my escapades. What the dickens has been happening in the rugger? I’m told that England dished the Convicts on their own turf? Good stuff! I’m told, too, that the Micks have been cheating and loading the Heineken fixture list in their favour – no change there then! - and, more happily, that Brendan Venter is still a complete and utter lunatic.
(On that note, has anyone heard the rumour that the South African government set up a reservation just outside Bloemfontein in the 1960s and populated it with lions, assegai-wielding tribesmen, and the new-born sons of South African special forces soldiers; and that those babes who survived this harsh environment (by eating Zulus and killing lions with their bare hands, natch) were duly anointed with names like “Botha” and “Venter” and given Springbok jerseys to wear? Sounds pretty plausible to me!)
In all seriousness, chaps, the Antipodeans come to Twickers soon and I do hope we hand out a few royal beastings for Her Maj in these impoverished times. I daresay she can take a 10% cut in her allowance but I very much doubt she’ll tolerate seeing Jonno’s chaps turned over on their own manor by mere colonials.
But what’s this Lady Crouchback tells me about a bronzed, chipmunk-faced Welshman currently appearing on Strictly Come Dancing? Please tell me it’s not Henson! Good heavens, what is it with these Welsh boys? Can we trace their problems back to the fact that they were never adequately beasted at school perhaps? I do believe that if young Henson had been rodgered in the showers by a suitably butch sixth former on his 14th birthday then his utterly disgraceful behaviour of late would never, ever have happened. Food for thought for all parents considering sending their sprogs to prole school in these impoverished times, what!
It’s good to be back!
Yours, etc
Viscount Crouchback
* Incidentally, chaps, I can't recommend these mulatto fillies highly enough: they have the fantastic tits of 100% black gels but none of the arse fat! (Or the "batty laaaaad" as the chaps in Kingston would say!) But a word of warning: when one is supping one's rum'n'coke in a Montego Bay discotheque and one of the cheeky local wenches starts gyrating her arse in front of you, this should not be treated as an invitation to take out one's walking cane and commence vigorous spanking. All manner of abominations can ensue.
Recent Comments