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Jonjo Claus is coming to town

Hello humans of the north,

I shall be in Leeds from 20th Dec to 2nd Jan, during which time I shall celebrate the birth of Our Lord by eating Christmas cake with cheese, drinking fortified wine before noon, doing a picture quiz my mother made at work, and being unable to get "Stop the Cavalry" by Jona Lewie out of my head. 

I request that the usual acts are committed. These may include such things as: drinking beer in the pub; eating "spicied chicken men" and other such Japanese delights at Fuji; irritating Pete by going in the wrong direction when playing "Jizz and Dickster"; and being improbably beaten by some team involving Jo at Articulate.

God bless us, ev'ryone!

Questions to ponder

1. Is it possible to hit yourself with your own rhythm stick?

2. Why do turds suddenly appear every time I am near?

3. What is the difference between a turbo-plier and an ordinary plier?

4. Why them?

5. Why are there always pies left? Didn't someone eat them all?

6. Will Mr Ed ever be remade?

7. How many mickles precisely make a muckle?

8. Why has the very concept of Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds not driven everyone insane? TALKING HUMANOID DOGS IN SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY GARB!

9. What time is love?

10. What other questions might one ponder?

Sir Jimmy Savile: a revised assessment

It seems I must withdraw my praise for Jim,

Who fixed it, it transpires, on Top o' t' Pops,

For girls to take his member 'twixt his chops,

Or otherwise bestir his "special limb".

It turns out now that this behaviour's wrong:

Where once 'twas fine to roughly take young girls,

Whilst holding them by pigtails, plaits, or curls,

These days that's not a place to put your schlong.

And so we curse Sir Jim, remove the stone

Which marked his grave and throw it in the tip,

Whilst thinking of the wick he liked to dip

(By which I mean, of that he used to bone

Young chicks, all starry-eyed). You think I cavil,

But this is now the line on Jimmy Savile.


Light verse


On treeless heath, in sylvan grove,
On wind-swept hillside, in sheltered cove,
On planes which flew, in subs which dove,
On trains you took, in cars you drove,
From dismal Hexham to sun-drenched Hove,
The self-same cry rings out: By Jove!
There's such a man as Michael Gove!


Pardon me for being so rude:
It was not me; it was some dude.
He just popped up to show his penis;
I hope it doesn't come between us.


Barming on together

So, I'll be in Leeds from Friday night until Monday afternoon. If anyone wishes to meet for shits, giggles, or shitty giggles, then let me know.
For certayne & for also true as the gospell whan a man lyeth with his wife, or whis loue hauynge his fete foule and stynkynge, & it happen that he engendre a sone, he shall haue an euyll & a stynkynge breathe, & yf it be a doughter she shall haue it stynkynge behind.

Who that absteyneth hym from wypynge of his ars wt leues or other grene thynge that hathe growen vppon the erthe: he shal not haue no euyl in his backe nor in his rains.

Whan a chylde is borne before that he be baptysed beware that ye bere hym not vpon your lefte arme, for than shall he be lefte handed all his lyfe.
Whan a wyfe dothe ryse on the nyght for to pysse, and that she stryde ouer her husbande knowe that and he haue ony of his membres styffe that it shall waxe softe yf she retorne not theder as she had striden.

Whan ye se a cat syt in a wyndowe in the sonne, & that she lycke her ars, and that one of her fete be aboue her ere ye nede not to doubte but yt it shall rayne that daye.

I assure you that he that pysseth bytwene two houses or agaynst the sonne, knowe that he shall haue sore eyen.

I tell to you for a trouthe my neyghboures that whan one putteth clene shetes vppon a bedde the aungell of god reposeth hym therin tyll the tyme that one haue farted, or fysted therin.

Yf a woman wyll haue her husbande to loue one of her chyldren better than another, let her make hym ete a pece of the eres of her dogge: and the chylde the other halfe: and they shall loue soo feruently togyder that with payne they maye be one from another.

Whan a woman lyeth with her husbande and that she wolde sooner haue a sone than a doughter, it behoueth her for to holde her handes close whyle yt her husbande dothe the werke of nature, & for a trouthe she shall haue a sone.
No more the pictures of Our Lord accusing
Our subject, Pete, of sloth or self-abusing,
No more the Lowry print, the radiogram,
No more the youthful pics of Peter Sam.

For now he's swept this ancient tat away,
And made old Yelag House a shrine to gay,
In which the L Word's watched from morn till night,
And Jak and Daxter beat the Lord in fight.

But have we not forgotten, mid-orgasm
Of mowing th'lawn, and brute iconoclasm,

Of terminating squirrel, ant, and mouse,
And banishing all nylon from the house,

All well and good that there's no priest or nun,
But where's the Olivetti PC1?



This is quite an exciting one, actually:

From: Prince Fayad S. Bolkiah.
I got your reliable contact from my father's diary and further explicit investment information about your country. I am Prince Fayad B.S. Bolkiah, the son of Prince Jefri Bolkiah, former Finance Minister of Brunei, the tiny oil-rich sultanate on the Gulf Island.
I will save your time by not amplifying my extended royal family history, which has already been disseminated by the international media during the controversial dispute that erupted between my Father and his step brother, the sultan of Brunei Sheik Muda Hassanal Bolkiah.
As you may know from the international media, the sultan had accused my father of financial mismanagement and impropriety of US$14.8 Billion dollars. This was as a result of the Asian financial crisis that made my father's company Amedeo Development Company and government owned Brunei Investment Company to be declared bankrupt during his tenure in office. However my father was kept under house arrest, his bank accounts and private Properties including a crude oil export refinery were later confiscated by the sultanate.
Furthermore during this unfortunate period, I was advised to evacuate my immediate family outside the sultanate to avoid further prosecution from the sultan and his security operatives, but before I could do that I was placed under house arrest by the Sultan and have no access to a phone but I have a Palm hand-held computer from which I am sending you this mail.
Some of the guard here are still loyal to me, so they would be my contact with you if there is any document I need to send to you to enable you collect the boxes of money on my behalf.
Before my incarceration, I went ahead to dispatch the sum of Five Hundred Million United States Dollars (US$500,000,000.00) in cash under special arrangement into the custody of different private security and Trustee companies for safe keeping abroad. Just like an unspecified amount of money Sadam Husseine took out of Iraq in cash .
The money were splited and kept in the following countries in this proportion: US$ 270 Million is in Spain and the balance US$ 230 Million is in United Arab Emirate .
Hence I seek your good assistance to invest these funds into profitable investment in your country to facilitate future survival for my family abroad. After due deliberation with my aids we have decided to offer 20% of these funds to you as compensation for your strong cooperation while 5% have been mapped out for both local and international expenses that may be incurred during this transaction.
Please I count on your absolute confidentiality, transparency and trust while looking forward to your prompt reply towards a swift conclusion of this business transaction.
You may contact me so that i will let you know the next thing to do.
Many Thanks May Allah's blessing remain with you.
I remain yours sincerely.
Prince Fayad.S. Bolkiah.