Monkeys Fist

Fine history of top quality managers from there tbh.

That handshake is wetter than an otter’s pocket.

Gemmill, about two pages ago…

Picturing CT furiously stuffing a pair of hippy jeans up his ample hoop and struggling to get it lit. “ Didn’t have matches so used petrol inste… … WOOOOOOFFFF!”

I’d say he’s an automootic pick when available. Cows.

Story Time. When I was working on the Cesspool of Light, that watery thing they built in the SOS car park, my brother-in-law, who I was working with at the time, became knobstruck with the married lass running the bait van in the SOS car park. After not too much persuasion from him, she ended up giving him free bacon butties, her unholy, chip-fat infused minge, and a healthy dose of herpes, which he duly passed on to his lass… … aye, he was a proper twat. Such a twat, in fact, that two of his three sisters have cut off contact with him, Mrs. F being one of them. She finally had enough of his shite in 2018. I was working in our new house, which had previously belonged to a family friend of theirs and stood empty for a year or so. We were moving in within a week or so and I was doing as much work before then as I could. I heard the back door open and footsteps coming in so jumped up and went to see who it was- Captain Cunt was stood there, chewing his fucking lips off and gibbering nonsense as he was coked out of his mind. (Think of the scene in Goodfellas when Ray Liotta is explaining how to cook a good ragu) Having barely seen him for the past few years, I was a tad surprised, hence my “ What the fuck are you doing here?” Since he was tweaking like a cunt, it took a while, but I eventually got it out of him that he’d “borrowed” the house keys a few months previously and had copies made, and was using the attic as his drug and drug money stash( aye, he was dealing and dipping). He’d been doing this previously at his mothers house up the street until she started questioning him, so he thought he’d use our empty (at the time) house instead. His plan, after we’d moved in, was to “visit” when we were out at work. Given the fucking grief he’s dished out over the years, it gave me some pleasure to take “his” keys and kick the fucker out. It turned out later that he was in this state as he was “on the run”, having been told to present himself at Wallsend pork farm to answer charges of domestic violence against his (still herpes infested) poor lass. Like I said- absolute cunt. Aaaaanyway, to get to the thoroughly disappointing denouement of this sordid saga, when Alex mentioned the bloke above as a “famous fan”, I didn’t have a fucking scooby who he was and thought “ Nah, it can’t be , can it?” Google fu tells me that although Captain Cunt was banging a SoS burger van-based mackem skank, it was a different SoS burger van-based mackem skank. Tune in next week for more tales of Skeetatch, Scabs, Skanks and Scag.

Sirloin, farewell Its time to say goodbye. Adieu, adieu To moo and moo and moo.

Ribeye bye then

So I’ve herd.

If we get a free kick I hope he leathers it.

Gloomy raising the steaks here.

She was the Queen of Farts, gorblessah.

Lactose intolerant

Nothing to see here lads, moooooo-ve along.

Missed the vital part about shitting in fountains.

That’s not a shirt, it’s a test card.

Aye, CT’s made another cauldron of Lamb Bhuna.

Shake it all about Do the Hokey Cokey …

It’ll also be rammed with student blart. Renton wins lads.

Want to bet on that?

They’re like the B&M Bargains of football. Is this really the pic they’re wanting? Why are they in our old Bananas in Pyjamas away kit?

Please don't call me 'treacle'...... as a man I find that highly offensive