I once chopped off my own head, keeping it alive for 6 months feeding myself only herrings and wood lice. I learned about this technique from my russian friends.

Click here to view the training manual.

In the summer months of 2006, as the gentle spring wind gave way to the warmer breezes provided by a British summer, I discovered a series of secret parchments embedded in a false wall, deep within the bowels of a forgotten tin mine. Strange symbols were etched upon them, encrypted in an inpenetrable way. I immediately sent the parchments to Professor Mortimer Lomax, the head of the Oxford Universtiy Cryptology Department, for a more thorough analysis. I recieved the results in a plain browner a few weeks later. As I pored over the findings my blood ran cold. The documents documented the last known works of Jon Ross, one of the countries most celebrated lumineries.

Here, for the first time in history, is his legacy. Unfortunately the ending isn’t around anymore due to a particularly strict robot, with an over-sensitive profanity filter, guarding an email gateway. But that’s another story…

Looking beleaguered, David Bones peered through the dusty window of the old log cabin. If he concentrated the spines of books would reveal themselves. One of the books was called “Dancing”. He instinctively knew he’s found the right place. Bypassing the low quality Chubb lock on the door he breezed in, like a ghost on a skateboard. Unfortunately the cabin was booby trapped an as soon as he went in his dick exploded into a million pieces and his shoes fell off.

Upon finding that not only was he now confused as to his gender, his shoes were an imperative piece of equipment he required to ensure his dancing enabled him to fight crime and also travel back to his own time. David Bones therefore sat contemplating his predicament when it suddenly dawned on him his shoes were merely decoration they could not prevent his quest. With that he tried to reassemble his gentials with twigs and moss. David took a moment to compose himself for this quest, if successful could change the face of dancing forever. With quiet precision David began to tap the book “Dancing” ……………….

His hands trembled as he caressed the faux-leather exterior of the book. He’d waited all his worthless little life for this moment. Nothing stood in his way. As he began to think of the wonders this book would teach him his imagination raced with possibilities. No human had ever attempted the sacred dances of the Forgotten World and now, here he was, David Bones, 27, cobbler, about to release the magic to the rest of the universe. He allowed himself a brief moment of solitude to reflect upon the loss of his prize >winning shoes and his now defunct sexual organ. Was the sacrifice worth it he murmured to himself. After all he was now trapped in a time that was alien to him, with no way of returning. Destined to fight crime by busting mind-bending, and body-bending, ultra-syncopated moves. With his upper lip now sporting a wickedly glistening tache he turned to chapter one. It was ominously called “Flexible Justice”.

Unfortunately for David Bones the story will freeze in time. He, however, will not. David Bones will continue to age, forever trapped in the log cabin.

Growing old.

Alone.

Have you or your Mother ever wondered what it is likes to die laughing?

It can happen and doctors called it Clowndeath.

click here for clowndeath

Blackpool Snack: Scottish smack attack,

Don’t come back: Scottish smack attack.

Johnathon Slaven was a bit of a dick. He had a list of friends as long as long as half a bad joke from the mouth of a twat end. He lived in the shadow of his brother Butcher Bland, a successful dentist who boasted partnership in Fleetwoods premier dentist practice the Tooth Tree. Daily he was reminded of his futile existence from his father ‘old man Night warmer’. Despite his shortfall of luck in life. Slaven has always fought for the favouritism of his scrutiniser papa, old man night warmer. Butcher Bland had seized the chance to develop a derelict property in the the area of Cleveley’s, Lancashire. There was however a Scrat end of the property that he deemed shit compared to the otherwise potential Cum den of fortune. He mentioned this to Slaven at a family gathering, true to nature Slaven jumped at the opportunity to impress old man night warmer and bought the afore mentioned Scrat end with aspirations of renovation magic for an overblown fee (which of course he couldn’t afford because as he was a shit burger, However he would eat his own ass to gain the respect of old man night warmer). Butcher Bland true to form employed the finest tradesman to convert shit to magic and wasted no time with the renovation.

Slaven however again true to form employed a pack of Tit Boxes. First I will introduce you to his labourers. They were called Javelin head and Roy, a pair of dead legs from the fleetwood area.The pair of fools would commute by the medium of Blackpool Transport Tram every weekend. The reason the deadlegs only worked at the weekend was because they were both studying at the time at Fleetwood high School Sixth form where the pair of them wasted several years and upon leaving the School of ill repute between them clocked up five years on the dole and still fritter time with jobs at, Kwik Save, McDonalds and Fleetwood Conservative Club for young drinking Gentleman. Between them the fools spent most of their time there sweeping up or making cups of tea. I would like to add at this point that I have spoke to both of the labourers as part of my research for this article and Roy has told me that whilst making Cups of tea for Shit Dog Slaven he discovered the joy of coffee mate. The truth be told he never even drank coffee. He merely followed Javelin head to the Kitchen to sniff pop glue while Javelin head made the Beverages. The rest of their time would be spent by the two monkey boys laughing at Slaven’s bizarre and Ultimately useless tools or keeping an eye out for the Fat Dick Head whilst drinking pop and sniffing pop glue. Roy in appearance was a Good Looking Balded lover man not unlike Yule Brinner, truly a dream to the eye.Whilst Javelin Head was not far from a poorly developed Michael Ball minus the charisma.

Another cut price employee Slaven used was Jos Braiseweights the bottle smash piss finger, He would brandish his piss finger whilst rekindling fictional set to’s from his bent dick weekends of Fight ,Drug, Punch, Smack Joy. He could be regularly heard gloating to Slaven, ” It’s either them or you slaven you fat piss head, I will bottle the fingers off anybody me stud fingers”. Jos was a Brickie and a terrible one at that. He was never able to hold his Mortar board correctly as he permanently had at least one of his fingers through the neck of a broken bottle as fake proof of his Friday night Punch and smash. One particular morning Jos was going through his routine of telling all around him about how he had put smashed bottles up the ass of various bouncers and Women,” I smash them up their arses me. I don’t give a bent piss finger who I smash in the ass with the glass or the cash. I just smash in the ass and I flash the glass up the ass!”.

According to Javs Slaven was engrossed with this bollocks and had a look on his face of magic and if you stared into his eyes for long enough you could see an image of Slaven in a tight silver Miami vice suit with three smashed bottles teetering on the top of his bulbus head dripping with vinegar as he held hands with his old man night warmer, who had vinegar dripping from his proud mouth. The cold hard truth hit Slaven like a taste of piss and he knew that his father would never be proud of him in this situation as it was the Bullshit that had made his father resent him in the first place. Slaven slammed his fist on the window Sill where he stood and allocated tasks for Jos piss finger the brickie, and Javelin head and Roy in anger. Jos was tasked to build a wall above the landing which was adjoined to the loft space where Javelin head and Roy were tasked to sweep out, (a pointless task to be fair but the boys cared not as they had the chance to sniff pop glue and laugh at each others grubby little faces).

The job for Jos would of been shit easy but unfortunately Jos had his piss fingers through 3 scrap souvenirs and couldn’t hold his Mortar board with any authority, (which was quite ironic as he had smashed glass up half the asses in Queendom including the Asses of brick men). Needless to say his Gobbo mixing was shite aswell which instead of being three parts sand ,two parts cement ,and one part water was all up to to fuck and as soon as his wall was erected it fell like a sack of shit. The bricks hit the floor like a bronx cheer in comparisson to Slaven’s successful brothers perfection erection. This comedy of errors however brought a miracle in the form of Javelin head and Roy being safe and sound in the loft space adjecent to the accident zone still off their tits laughing at each others grubby little faces. The pair emerged from the small loft hatch after what sounded like an exploded pencil. The dirty pair of peckerwoods wasted at least another 6 weekends carrying their dicks in a sack and their eyes in a fuck bread for vinegar boss slaven.

To be continued…

Nigerian Scientists have developed the latest in leg protection, Afro Shins.

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