The curse of the Face Book and the hairy babies

The kindly man's relatives regretted not taking heed of the Gypo's curse as their babies sprouted red hair

The kindly man’s relatives regretted not taking heed of the Gypo’s curse as their babies sprouted red hair!

Once upon a time, there was a very nice gentleman that lived in the mountains of Andalucia. He was a kindly man, always laughing, always glad to see people and was loved by everyone who knew him. He lived in a lovely house in the middle of a great big field where the birds sang, the cats meowed, the little dog barked and the goats “goated” or whatever it is them fuckers do all day long.

In his house was his wife, a likeable woman, from a great distance of course, who flitted about the property as happy as a Gypo in a junk yard and she sang and whistled all day long.

During the evening, they would both go on the Internet and look at a social media site called “Face Book” this is a place where people would leave messages and videos and little notes and funny little cartoons, pictures of themselves and such like.

One day, the wife of this much loved chap could hear him in his office “tut-tutting!” out very loud and wondered what could possibly be amiss with this kindly gentleman.

“Take a f*****g look at all this!” he said, pointing to the photographs on his computer monitor “babies! There’s nothing but f*****g babies! All over the f****g computer screen! Some c**t has sent me a f*****g virus and it is spreading f*****g pictures of these f*****g babies all over my bl*****g face book site!”

“Oh dear!” said his wife smiling “You silly man, that’s not a virus, that’s just your family and friends sending you pictures of their adorable off-spring, how cute!”

“Cute my f*****g arse! There’s babies all over the f*****g place! Fat babies, thin babies, hairy babies, baldy babies, happy babies, crying babies, babies with silly outfits on, babies dressed as Elf’s, Soldiers, Sailors, flowers, babies in the bath, babies in prams, babies on rugs, babies, babies f*****g babies! Aaaaaaaaaagh!” he screamed, throwing his bottle of soda water at the computer screen.

How his wife chucked, as he kicked the computer tower against the wall in rage and urinated into the Internet router, all the time swearing and cursing at the top of his voice.

“You are a silly fellow, those babies are adorable, just look, someone has sent a photo of his babies first poo! I never knew they could do a “three curler” at 4 months old, how lovely and look! There’s a photo of a little boy who has poured paint all over his dads new smart TV set, you really do have to laugh! And there, the little girl has set the cats goolies on fire! He looks very surprised” His wife was laughing, he was not normally enraged to the point where he actually torched his computer and sent emails to the Internet service providers threatening them with “Jihad!”

“That’s f*****g it! I’m going to put a Gypo’s f*****g curse on all them wot sends me photos of f*****g babies, you’ll see, I’ll sort these c***s out big time!” and with that he went out in search of a gypsy to curse his face book page. In the town, as luck would have it, there were plenty of Gypsies, OK, most of them were too pissed to do a curse so the kind man did the next best thing, he found a person that supported Manchester United and asked him to make a curse, after all, who better to out the “mockers” on things than a Man United fan.

And so it came to pass, for a bottle of beer and some photos of a goat, the Man United fan put a curse on the face book page of the very nice kind man; “From now on, reet, any babies on t’facebuk perg, their hair will turn out bright red! Unless they have already got red hair, in which case, t’babies wi’ red hair will grow muzzies and sideburns and the like and all t’babies will grow up supportin’ Liverpool or Citeh or Newcassle yewnaarted!”

The kindly man thanked the Manc /Gypo and f***ed off home to tell his wife the good news.

“From now on any baby posted on my page will have red hair, or be very hairy and will grow up supporting shite teams, like LFC, City, Newcastle; Chelsea or Real Madrid!”

The very nice kind man then sat in front of his repaired tower and monitor to watch as “the results came in” chuckling to himself all the time “red hair! Liverpool supporter…hahahahaha!” He lived happily ever after.


Wayne and the magic singing water pt II: The Ginger Goblin


See Wayne and the magic singing water pt I first

Runeh was fresh from his magical concert at the Ferret and Flat Cap, a red hot musical venue in Stalybridge on the outskirts of Manchester, that windswept, cold, miserable part of Her Majesties Kingdom that is inhabited by Manchester City fans, blind donkeys and refugees from places marginally worse, such as Beirut and Gaza but he wanted more! He had gotten the musical bug and imagined he was up there with Elvis, Paul McCartney and Cheryl Cole.

Runeh or “Wern Runeh” as the locals called him had been told by his friend “Beardo” that there was a magical elixir that made people think he looked like Elvis or Brad Pit and sound like Paul McCartney, and to be fair, it worked a treat, the people in the Ferret & Flat Cap did think it was Elvis, Paul McCartney and Brad Pitt at varying stages of the gig, however, when they sobered up he sounded more like Des O’Connor and Runeh was not happy about this.

“I gorra gerra berra elixir or sum’thin strongeh! I will sound like Macca or Elvis, I’m gunna luk like Bradd Pitt!” he ranted and raged into the re-enforced mirror that adorned his room. Just then, the phone rang, it was Cheryl Cole on the line.

“Wai-ai wern bonnie lad, its Cheryl Ann Fernandez-Versini, I got news fer ye for te cheer yu’s up!”

Runeh was confused:”Cheryl Ann Fernandez-Versini? whodafuckisdat? Is dat you Stevie G (friend and former England Captain Stephen “Stevie Gee” Gerrard) stopyerfukkunabowtyertwat!

“Nor bonnie lad, it’s wor Cheryl, y’nor, Cheryl Tweedy, Cole and noo Cheryl Ann Fernandez-Versini.”

Runeh  sank to his knees! Cheryl tweedy, Cole, Cheryl Ann Fernandez-Versini, Newcastle’s own Margarita Pracatan! calling him on the phone and with good news. Runeh almost pissed his pants with anticipation.

“Wor Runeh, a’ve canny news for ye bonnie lad, I nor a ginger Goblin wot lives in the woods near wor hoos, he sez he can mek even a nobber like yu sound like Dean Martin or Paul McCartnee, yer’ve tu meet him in the Ferret and Flat Cap t’neet at midneet and sing wi’ him, mek sure thor that the lorcals have had plenty of the Toon Broon or worrever they drink in Manchester.. Ah’ll see ye ther bonnie lad, g’neet.”  and with that Cheryl Tweedy, Cheryl Ann Fernandez-Versini left to go and record another Pink Floyd-esque album.

Runeh was at the FC&F early to make sure they all drank the magic singing elixir and it was a few hours before the Ginger Goblin from the magic woods would appear, hopefully, now, he would realise his lifetime ambitions and sing like Paul McCartney and look like Brad Pitt.

Then, as the clock in the bar at the FC&F struck midnight, a short, ginger haired, strange looking goblin type character came into the bar, walked up to Runeh, shook his hand and introduced himself as the magic goblin with powers to make normally sane people imagine he was a musician and a sexy pop star.

“Howdehfukduyudoodat! I’ve been tryin’ fer years and it don’t werk unless they all drink the magic elixir but wenit werz off, they all think I sound shite!”

“Dear me, you really are a fool, you don’t need them to drink the elixir, it’s YOU who must drink the elixir and you will always look like Brad Pitt and sound like Elvis, all you need then is the PR department to hype any shite you come out with and tell the world you came from nowhere to be a great musician (whilst all the time having spent half your life being a wannabee) and let the birds know your worth a fortune. You may have to change the image a bit, perhaps ginger hair would suit you?” said the ginger goblin and with that unpacked his guitar and un-tuned it.

“Fukkinell! Yerright la, I’ll doodat, I’ll get pissed and sing with yu an we’ll make a record tegetha! Weel maka fortune in no friggin time.!” Said the delighted Runeh. And so it was that Runeh and the ginger goblin recorded their first live single in the Flat Cap and Ferret and all the Mancistanis who had drunk the magic singing elixir had to agree, here was the new Righteous Brothers, the new Simon and Garfunkle, the new Robson and Jerome.

Has luck would have it, this first single from Runeh and the ginger goblin is free to download from Youtube. Cool or what?

Sites I like: Click this link to go to  site I want to promote but you wouldn’t normally bother with because your not at all interested.

Wayne and the magic singing water


Once upon a time, in a land to the north of the wonderful city of Liverpool, in a place devoid of sun, clean air and, judging by the kip of the locals, soap and shower gel! is a place called Manchester and it is the destitute area of the fair kingdom that there lived a young man who had driving ambitions to be a pop star.

Runeh, as he was know by the Mancistanis, was a young man who had, for years, harboured the ambition to sing like Paul McCartney of the famous Beatles (as we know, from the fair city of Liverpool) and be seen as a handsome, talented minstrel; There was just one small problem.

Runeh couldn’t sing to save his life, and, having a passing resemblance to a Disney cartoon character ‘Shrek’ it was highly unlikely that he was going to attract the young ladies of Manchester, or anywhere else come to think of it. What was he to do? Should he go and see the music wizard and see if he could cast a spell on Runeh so that, when he opened his mouth to sing, the sound of Paul McCartney would fill the air with beautiful notes and mesmerize the listening pensioners and others that would turn up in their thousands to listen.

“I’ve been ter see dat moosk wizard and he fecked me off! Sez he’s a  wizard not a fukken miracle worker!” said the sad Runeh as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He was desperate to sing like ‘Macca’ and look like Elvis but his dream would never be realised, no matter how much fame and money he had, he was doomed to live in the wilds of Manchester amongst the great unwashed and never sing a note in tune or swivel his hips.

Just then, Runeh got a call from his old friend Peter Beardsley: Peter told Runeh of a magic elixir that was available and it would make him look like Brad Pitt and sound like Paul McCartney, Peter swore by it, after all, he got someone to marry him, so, it must work!

Runeh was pissing himself with excitement, where could such elixir be bought and how much do you have to drink to make it work?

“Yu divvunt drink thu fukka, bonny lad, yer get everyone else ter gan drink it, it’ll makem think yur Elvis or Bradd Pitt an yurl soond juss like Paul McCartney! gan on, buy it an see!”

So, without a moment to lose, Runeh went and invited lots of his friends to meet him in a bar in Manchester, he made them all drink lots of the magical elixir called “Beer” and then he started to sing!

“Fugginell! Runeh sowds juss like fuggen Pull Mgartnee!” shouted one of his friends, unable to believe the beautiful sounds that emanated from the throat of their hero.

“Ferfuggsake! ah norr its Runeh doin t’singin burrit sowds lak fuggin Pull Mugarnee!” said one of the many invited OAP’s.

As  luck would have it, the whole thing was recorded for posterity.

I like this site: Naughty Spain

They don’t like it Up ’em


Uncle Terry and his mate Phil dropped by for a cup of tea.

Little Bobby walks into his parents bedroom to ask for a glass of water and his dad is doing his mum “doggie style” whilst himself wearing nipple clamps and leather bikers cap with chains both were laughing and giggling. The little boy was horrified, he ran out of the room screaming his head off.

After their romp, the father decided that he should go to the boys room and explain to him what they were actually doing, this, he thought, would settle the matter.

On entering the boys room, he saw him dressed in a leather gimp suite, complete with mask and zips, he was having anal sex with his grandmother, she was dressed as a schoolgirl and had been chained to the bed. The father was shocked and outraged.

“What the hell are you doing!” he screamed at the gimp suited little boy.

The boy replied “Yeah, its not so fucking funny when its your mother, is it!”.

Manchester United Lose Again

Manchester United under Van Gaal

May God help them!

It was all excitement and expectation for the forthcoming season, Manchester United, a team that had enjoyed huge success for the last twenty five years or so under a red faced Scot called “Sralex” to the United fans, ‘Fergie’ to the press and “that whingeing Scots fekka!’ by referees, players, fans of other teams and the rest of free thinking humanity, he really was horrid.

Since ‘Sralex’ had decided to hang up his watch and become a director at Manchester United, they had stolen the manager from Everton, their main rivals for the title and installed him as ‘Head Coach’ at Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United, he, in turn, decided to steal some of the players from his old team, namely a fuzzy headed Belgian who was ‘OK’ but nothing special and a Chelsea player, rejected by Jose Mourinho, who asked for ten times what he was worth and, to the surprise of everyone, Manchester United bought him (Chuckle!)

Anyway, the United fans made a giant banner with the image of the new messiah on and the legend “The Chosen One” and they had great expectations for glory that season. It started off well, they won the Community Sheild and then it all went to rat shit! Team after team came to Old Trafford, a veritable fortress, and hammered Manchester United week in-week out and the same applied for away games. They were dumped out of all of the domestic competitions with ease and then turfed out of Europe as well.

The final straw came when the new manager went back to his old club and was given a footballing lesson. Just after that, the Manchester United fans who had been on his back from day one, got their wish, he was sacked after less than a season in the job. Manchester United finished 7th in the premier league and did not even qualify for Europe, it was their lowest most horrid season for almost 25 years and the tears rolled in Manchester United hotbeds such as Bournemouth, Rhyl, Basingstoke and Belfast. Manchester was awash with laughter as the local club, Manchester City had won the title and finished with almost double the points United had, also, United bitter rivals, Liverpoolhampton had come second. Oh, woe! What was to be done?

The last four games of the season Ryan “Shagger” Giggs had taken control of the team, beating the mighty Norwich at Old Trafford and hopes swelled that this former great player would take over as head coach in the coming season, although he had no experience and was often busy down at his brothers house, when he wasn’t in the other BB house.

Alas, no. The much loved American owners had decided to go for a proven winner, someone who would command the respect of the millions of United supporters crowded around the TV on match days, they went for an odd looking Dutchman called Van Gall, he would bring back the glory days, Van Gaal was a winner, just you wait and see.

In the pre season Van Gaal proved his worth, United returned from the USA with two trophies; OK, they were Mickey Mouse trophies but the United faithful were elated, they had beaten Liverpoolhampton into the bargain.

The opening day of the new season saw Manchester United drawn at home against Swansea City, a lowly Welsh side that had managed to stay in the Premier League and the United fans had turned up in front of the TV’s in numbers to watch ‘their’ team wallop Swansea City, this was going to show the rest of Europe what the new Manchester United could do, this would wipe the smile off the faces of the doubters, Swansea would be taken to the fucking cleaners, their was a new spirit in the club, Rooney was made captain and….THEY LOST!

United lost the first game of the season for the first time since 1972, their home record was popped at the first attempt, it seems that the records keep being made by the post ‘Sralex’ United and that being shite is something that the United fans would have to get used to. OK, their were the usual excuses, new manger, new players, new system etc etc but it was the same shite Manchester United.

And that, children, is the reason why there are so many Manchester United shirts in the charity shops and car boot sales.

Moral: Beware of false Prophets.


Also see: Cuba