Avast ye Swabs!

Apparently, last Wednesday was Act Like a Pirate Day.

Well shiver me timbers, I never knew that until I read it in the newspapers later on. I wondered why there were men with eye-patches, all wearing striped shirts, bandannas and drinking rum in the Spicy Chicken Takeaway. I was charged ten doubloons as well, just for a kebab. Sheer piracy in their pricing, methinks.

But I feel as if I’ve missed out now. Pirate Day? I should have taken part. I mean, piracy … what can I do? I know, I’ll go and illegally download and distribute a load of Ben Dover porn films. Titillating.

Q: Why are pirates so funny?

A: Because they just arrrrrrrrrr!

Out and about in the news recently …

I see Peaches Geldof was in the spotlight the other week when her baby buggy overturned, tipping four-month-old Astala (Yeah … I know) onto the pavement. Can’t post a picture of Peaches as it’s no doubt copyrighted. Instead, I’ll just have to improvise.

Anyway, google image search “peaches geldof baby pram” and see what I’m talking about. The horror. I mean, if she’d been more careless, she’d have dropped her mobile phone too. You know, the bloody device glued to her ear that she seemed more concerned hanging onto rather than her poor child.

Idiot.

Quitting … Really?

Celebrity, Peter Andre wants to concentrate on a career of being a TV presenter from now on. He says he’s even ready to give up singing to do so.

Amazing news … Peter Andre is a singer?

Bad taste gone Gaga.

Yes, Lady Gaga is in the news again. She’s been smoking dope on stage in Amsterdam. Way to go. What a plonker but the burning issue of bad taste is … What the hell was she thinking, choosing to wear this?

Had the lights gone in the dressing room? Now that’s what I call being a dope.

Vava-Boom!

I read on Tuesday, that car repair bills have soared and some garages charge over £80 an hour. Now in the past, I’ve generally found places who don’t fleece you. It’s more often than not, the manufacturer doing the piracy.

Ah-haaaaa!

Sorry, still in pirate mode. But anyway, I recall my Renault Espace from a few years back. It was a lovely car until the warranty ran out, then everything conceivable fell apart. It wasn’t the garage which was the problem, the parts were extortionate. All seemed to have to come from France via snail-mail and you were charged about £200 for a wheel-nut.

The good old pirate ship – Espace.

Wiper blades. I remember the days when I could replace my own blades by buying a cheap set from Halfords and doing the job myself. Not Renault. The ones for the Espace, even in 2006, cost over £50 each and needed to be fitted by a mechanic. It was the same when the clutch went. In my old Montego, I just had a new clutch cable fitted. Twenty minute job and about a tenner. Espace? I was told the hydraulics had gone.

Now then … Clutch-cable – Hydraulics. Which of those two do you think sounds the more expensive? Over bloody £200 if I recall with all the labour.

I’m just glad I got shot of the thing. Mind you, I made it good and even stuck a new engine in before I could sell it as the original only lasted 50,000 miles.

Rubbish vehicle in the end. Couldn’t trust it for fear something else would blow. I’m just glad I managed to sell it to that vicar.

Jesus and ‘Her Indoors.’

Apparently, Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. Scholars have come up with this gem, now. Still, it’s about as credible as the other bullshit in the Bible so why not this?

Catholic priests are going to be a bit peeved though. The theory of Jesus abstaining from women is the reason for celibacy in their church. Still, doesn’t stop them having scores of love children already and if they were allowed to have relations, perhaps they wouldn’t spend so much time abusing kids.

Prick!

That’s the only word to describe the new Tory chief for discipline.

Andrew Mitchell, MP for Sutton Coldfield (great, the knob lives near me) shouted abuse at the police standing guard in Downing Street. He moaned about being told not to ride his bike out of the main security gate. He screamed at the cops to learn their fucking place.

Now what place would that be, Andrew? Would it be the place of being in charge of security and protecting your sorry ass when people want to take a pop at you for making a mess of the country?

What can you say?

Dale Creegan. I’d post a picture of him but an image of dog shit is one I’d find offensive on my site. This piece of scum, blasted two unarmed women cops who were routinely doing their duty. Creegan wants to be famous, or infamous. The thing with dog shit though, you soon forget it once it’s been on your shoe, and that’s where Creegan belongs.

Also, shame on the shits who didn’t report the fact he was flaunting himself about the neighbourhood, days before committing murder. Hope you can live with yourselves.

What a society.

Bit of a boob.

Farmer, Alan Graham, blew his top after allowing pop star, Rhianna to use his field to shoot a video. You remember her? I featured her a week or so back. Here she is, under her umbrella.

Anyway, Bible-basher (Oh dear, now that explains it) Alan Graham, didn’t like it when the pop-star got her breasts out during the shoot.

Christ. Get a life, Alan. They’re nothing to be ashamed of. How do you think your mother fed you as a child?

Bewitched.

Former soccer goalkeeper, Richard Kingson’s loss of form has been blamed on witchcraft.

There he is in 2006, on his arse as Ronaldo beats him to score. Hmmm. Maybe the witchcraft theory is true? Or could it be he’s just a rubbish keeper?

Back on the subject of poo again.

Fake cigarettes containing human poo have been discovered by customs recently. Don’t know what the fuss is about. No different from the other crap they stick in cigarettes.

So we still be playing at being pirates, then?

I’m going to join in the pirate fun, if not a few days late. I’m off to seize a boat and torture a couple of helpless pensioners.

Cheers.

Nick

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