Sitting here orn me air cushion (for me piles cunts) but this time Yours Truly has the old arse ache and thank the Christ for it (for the cushion, not the arse ache).
Was visiting a local supermarket, all ‘70s insitu concrete and running piss and navigating me old arse up a steep slope. Got overtaken by a Japanese bint orn one orf these Boris type battery bikes panting and peddling like fury. As YT was ogling her arse clicked that the silly mare had run oit orf juice and was aboit to fall orf. Dropped me bags and manfully nippily stepped in to steady the bastard but the fucker weighed a tank.
Took the full heft orf the panzer plus the bint while moving in to do me Sir Galahad and hopefully have a feel but was knocked flying. Me old para training kicked in, time was in Dream State and YT was able to lock orn a spot and role oit orf the impact. Japanese bint had a soft landing orn me old belly and balls. All very spectacular but not much harm done. Been pain dead doine there for years. Punters come running up to see “if the old gent is OK”. Well fuck that, never one to play the gallery. Said I would not mind a cuppa tea though. They all congratulated me and then sodded orf.
Japanese bint standing there far too weak to handle the powerless monster so hauled it up (Christ me fucking back) and pushed the cunt up the slope for her at which point she pisses orf leaving me orn me tod. No cuppa tea then or Japanese rituals orf gratitude. Start to stump me old arse back to me manor and apart from a bit orf a graze orn me shoulders thought “you manky old cunt, you’ve pulled it orf agin’, got away with”. Thinking orf me glory days. Went to bed with a nice single malt.
Woke to me come-uppance. “You do not do full power roles at your age onto rough concrete you old cunt” something whispered gently in me shell like. Could not fucking move. Lungs hurt, every shoulder muscle throbbing and bruised, back like a fireman’s ladder with heavy cunts carrying fat slags running up and doine in hob nailed boots. Oh me poor old arse, that has saved YT many times over the years. Now it says no, never agin’. Purple bruises and KGB class pain in me kidneys. Pissing blood. Lovely jubbly.
A weekend in bed and several bottles orf single malt later just up to whether YT should toddle over to the quack or not. Nah, stay au lit old son and keep orn the whiskey. As to the bastard bikes, answers a few questions as to why YT has seen so many punters pushing the buggers looking white faced and knackered and why so many are just left abandoned despite being charged to the punters credit cards. Healthy new lifestyle? Total cunt.
Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke
What the fuck is goin’ orn? Years orf never getting a nom posted and now suddenly it’s open reason for Yours Truly. YT knows what you cunts are perpetrating, throw the old tosser a posting from the ”dead and buried” box, divert and beguile him, throw him a lefty. so he don’t remember heinous liberties taken re his Dead Pool noms. The news cunts is that a Stoke never forgets (unless he owes some cunt some money).
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Sir Limply, do you still have blood in your urine? If so, you really should see a doctor.
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Touched awfully at your tender concern for me well being me dear but there is little a bottle orf single malt or three cannot piss oit. Have had much worse than a spot orf claret ejecting from me old horse prong. Those Benghazi days. Piss back to its normal high octane state tah very much.
Me old cuntsniffer detects a fair filly bereft orf male companionship, a rusty old minge in need orf a spot orf lubrication. Once agin’ me old Sir Galahad at your service sweet madam. Offering you a night with a Knight orf the Realm if you pay for me petrol.
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You are a good judge of character Sir. I could offer you my cherry bakewells. And perhaps you could crumple my frock.
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What is going on here. The Sir Limply show?
Has he got compromising pictures of Dio and Dick Fiddler?
Does he have evidence that places Shaun in various hospices which coincides with Dead Pool wins?
Does he know which cunter is Paul Burrel? (It’s ok Willie, your secret is safe with me)
There is something afoot.
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Yeah but you can’t beat a bit of Limply!
😀😀😀
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No, he has compromising images of you.
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As Stevie Wonder finishes his last number at a concert in Tokyo, an audience member calls out..
“Play a jazz chord”…
Ever obliging, Stevie knocks out a cracking little jazz standard and despite receiving rapturous applause, the guy shouts out again…
“Play a jazz chord”…
Stevie plays a more complicated piece, but the guy is still not happy and once again shouts..
Play a jazz chord”….
Getting frustrated Stevie leans towards the Mic and says..
“If you can do better come up and show everyone”…
The guy struts across the stage, walks past the piano, picks up the Mic, turns to the audience and begins to sing…
“A jazz chord, to say I ruv you”….
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An interviewer asked Stevie what it was like to be blind.
‘Could be worse, I could be black’
B Manning
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How do you break Steve Wonder’s neck? A: Speed up the music.
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Mr Wonder was caught exposing himself and making thrusting motions in Central Park NY. A cop asked him to explain himself.
”I thought I was walking my dog”
“Then sir why are your trousers all wet?”
“Because my dog is blind as well”
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Absolutely ace, Sir Limply. keep em coming, guys!
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Racist cunt.
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Fuckin ace! Must pass it on
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Electric bikes only do one thing,and that is extend the range that fucking pushbikers can spread their utter cuntfoolery. Lazy,fat Cunts everywhere will be squeezing their rolls of blubber into lycra and bell-end helmets while trying to convince themselves that they are actually exercising as the motor bums out under their bulk.
Just a new way for pushbikers to clog up the roads while they push the fucking things home…..Ban them,and I don’t just mean electric bikes.
Fuck them.
7
I saw something ive not seen in a long time, i saw a chap on a bike with his jeans tucked in his sock no helmet no hi viz no lycra and best of all a real gasper in between his lips ,looked like puffing Billie.
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More power to the cunt, I say. Sounds like a real bloke on a bike, not one of those sanctimonious lycra wearing turds that infest the highways and byways from here to Land’s End.
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When I see a chap looking like that on my street, he’s usually going the wrong way (it’s one-way) en route to see his *dealer*.
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Fuck me , you must live up the road, it was me!
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More cunts on the roads, more cunts on the pavements. Skateboarders, roller skaters,scooter tossers, Sedgeway cunts, tablet/smartphone zombies, pushchair motherfuckers, cyclists, quadbike & trailbike cunts taking the piss, and now this shit!
Just like our airports, trains, buses and country as a whole – we’re running out of space because of all these cunts!
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Does anyone here remember the late 1950s contraption called the Cyclemaster?
A replacement rear wheel for a pushbike with a 32cc 2 stroke engine that would convert the pushie into a moped and generate just enough power to propel bike and rider past the limitations of bicycle brakes and steering.
I restored one in a suitable vintage roadster cycle a while back and test riding it terrified me in a way that a Honda CB900F never could.
See also similar death traps, the BSA Winged Wheel and Wall Autowheel.
Actually, I think they should start making them again. The resulting snowflake carnage would be spectacular…
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Do I remember them? Those fuckers were based on some frog ride orf death favoured by frog onion sellers. On a par with the ’50s Messerschmidt Bubble Car and my favourite ride for a damp ’50s road covered in autumn leaves, the early Invacar:
https://cybermotorcycle.com/gallery/invacar/Invacar-1953-Thundersley-4328-07.htm
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Not into lycra on women , they’re the wrong shape ,but put one on a hunky male and it’s a different story. I go for a 7 mile cycle wearing lycra and look fabulous. X
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The Froggie version is the “Velo Solex” Sir Limply, with the engine mounted in front of the handlebars driving the front wheel giving a high centre of gravity and hence potentially lethal levels of instability. Amazingly the French were still making them up til a few years ago and there’s a slow trickle of ebay imports into Britain, giving EU loving Francophiles a chance to break their fucking necks continental style.
Huzzah!!
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Thank you kindly for that information MrB. The stench orf burning castor oil from the 2 stroke engine lingers long in me memory. Indeed the froggie cunts were always going arse over tip when they reached Blighty. Have to say for my money there is not much opposition for lethal wheels against the now highly collectable Invacar. Even saw some cunt who had gorn under a steamroller in one. Reduced to a red jelly. Orn the plus side they did have wipe clean Rexine seat and tonneau covers. A fan base no less:
http://www.andybuysbikes.com/archivehtml/4328.html
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Powered by the dreaded Villiers engine, which kind of acts as a safety feature, by being nigh impossible to get started most of the time.
No wonder the Japanese ate our bike industry alive…
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