Largesse and small friends

Yes. C**tgtasulazioningd to Gappy and Thief of bad gags for shinking. PM myself with a new slutjec please. Meanwhereas...
Next slapperjack: Blue (chosen by Patrick).
Leg closed: 26.7.20
Runners are nowt...
Score Position Name
3 1 Gappy, Thief of bad gags
2 2 Patrick, Playfull
1 3 Altlapel, me

MY FAVOURED PRICK THINGS

Tune: My favourite things, Julie f**king Andrews

Cumdrops on toeses Man chowder on shitters Babe batter freckled and warm willies stiffened Brown anus packed 'n' mashed, flies stuffed, brown wings These are a few of my favourite things

Cream-covered boners and fisted cabooses Bubbies and jubblies And Bristols and boobies Wild skeet that flies with the poon on bare schlings These are a few of my favourite things

Curls in tight gussets with goo fat in splashes Snake flakes that spray on my nose and eyelashes Limp and shite wieners that jerk up like springs These are a few of my favourite things

When my dong's light When my bum stings When my penis lags I simply whack off to my favourite things I'm boxing the one-eyed champ

ROSCOE: Mitchell, answer me one question: what on earth do you call this?

MITCHELL: It's a meeting between an employee and his superior. A simple concept, but good to get confirmed from the outset, it will make the ensuing conversation easier to follow, in case anyone's listening.

ROSCOE: No, I don't mean this event! I mean this, in my hand! This magazine.

MITCHELL: You've sort of answered your own question there.

ROSCOE: I know full well it's a magazine. I want to know about pages 17 through 24, which is apparently your doing.

MITCHELL: All my own work!

ROSCOE: Yes, so the credit at the end states. As well as noting that you are connected with this organisation, which is why I am just a teensy bit perturbed by it. How do you explain this farrago?

MITCHELL: Slash fiction.

ROSCOE: That's not an explanation. It's just two nouns.

MITCHELL: Actually, slash in this instance is adjectival, which is quite interesting.

ROSCOE: What are you talking about?

MITCHELL: OK. So, slash fiction started in the sci-fi community. In essence, it's fiction created by fans of a fictional work or franchise universe, exploring the developments and ramifications if two of the characters started unexpectedly nobbing each other off.

ROSCOE: This is a recognised concept, is it?

MITCHELL: Oh, yes. It started with Captain Kirk and Dr Spock from Star Trek. They were the original nobbers off. The off-nobbers.

ROSCOE: And whilst I am sure that people would not mind if you wrote about Captain Curd and Dr Sponge from Star Trip, I am absolutely certain that your slush fiction is not suitable when applied to the Holy Trinity.

MITCHELL: I don't get it.

ROSCOE: You cannot claim the three-person-ed Godhead incarnate once had an orgy.

MITCHELL: Oh, I never said "once". Look on page 22.

ROSCOE: I'm not going to look on page 22! I had to have a lay down after page 18. Listen carefully: God does not have sex with himself.

MITCHELL: Right. Who does he have sex with, then?

ROSCOE: Nobody!
MITCHELL: God doesn't have sex with anybody?

ROSCOE: Of course not. God has never had sex with anyone!

MITCHELL: Right. Except Mary.

ROSCOE: No...yes...that doesn't count.

MITCHELL: Counts a bit, I'd say. I just wonder, what with God being so ineffable, perhaps sometimes he and...himselves...have a bit of a fool around.

ROSCOE: He's ineffable, but not that ineffable. In that respect he is entirely effable.

MITCHELL: And I'm just wondering who he's normally effing.

ROSCOE: Nobody! And especially not his own son and his own disembodied spirit.

MITCHELL: To be honest, the Holy Ghost mostly just watches. Though, he can sort of meld himself into shapes, like the New Schmoo, which is helpful. Like on page 20, where he makes God a channel for his piece. Goes down well.

ROSCOE: Not with me, or any right-minded Christian. I never, ever want to hear another word about this story.

MITCHELL: The story called "Any Holy's The Goal"?

ROSCOE: Yes, of course! Which story did you think?

MITCHELL: Just, because I sent the magazine about 5 or 6, so wasn't sure whether they'd printed any others. Probably saving them up. They do a double issue at Christmas.

ROSCOE: Then they shall do so without your help.

MITCHELL: What's the problem? We've all got imaginations, people in fiction live on outside the page.

ROSCOE: And that's the worst part of all! The Christian religion is not fiction!

MITCHELL: We-ell. Jury's out.

ROSCOE: It is not! And I do not want to hear another word about it, Father Pearson.

MITCHELL: Alright, your grace. I'll not write any more. I'll do some more work on Sunday's sermon.

ROSCOE: Very good, Father. And what is your theme?

MITCHELL: It's called "Love thy Neighbour: A Key Christian Tenet Explained In That Time Lisa Simpson Sucked Off Flanders"

Val and June
Blue White

Two Rotherham fifty something neighbours are talking over their garden fence.

SFX A brass band plays a very short 'On Ilkla Moor Baht' 'at'

Val: Chuffin 'ell June, I will be needing welding glasses to look at your washing, they're so white.

June: (Chuckle) ooow it's that new washing powder advertised on the telly.

Val: That one with the fit rugby player putting his dirty kit in the washing machine?

June: Aye that's the one.

Val: I wish Trev was like that.

June: What a rugby player?

Val: No, using the washing machine.

June: (Chuckles) Oh, I see.

Val: Look at mine compared to yours? ( Both look at Val's washed out clothes on the pathetic washing line)

June: Why don't you try Blue White, Val?

Val: Aye, it has to be better than Shiftit. Only Shiftit has trouble shifting skiddies.

June: I can lend you Ted's jet wash if you want, Val?

Val: No June, I don't mean the marks on the paving stones. I meant Trev's underpants.

June: ( Laughs uncontrollably) Oh you are funny, Val.

Val: Aye well you have to be living with him. You do know that the Turin Shroud has an image of Christ on it, don't you?

June: Oooow yeah, me and Ted once watched it on 't discovery channel.

Val: Well, I've got one, not a shroud, but a pair of underpants.

June: Oooow with Christ's image on them?

Val: No, Trev's fat arse.

June: ( Laughs hysterically) Oh Val, no, don't, you'll set me off watering the lawn.

Val: Aye well, he sits down all the time and there's a clear image of his fat arse.

June: Don't Val ( Still laughing)

Val: ( Waits for June to catch her breath) I take it you got your Blue from Asda?

June: Oooow yeah me and Ted never venture from Asda, we've got a loyalty card you know.

Val : Aye well, there's the problem, not only is Trev a lard arse he's a tight arse too.

June: ( Bursts out laughing)

Val: We still shop at Diddle's and only washing powder they sell is chuffin' Shiftit.
You've seen the advert June, haven't you? 'If Daz can't Shift It? Shiftit."

June: ( More hysterical laughing) Do you want me to get you a box of Blue?

Val: Yes June luv if you wouldn't mind, but don't tell him.( She thumbs to the house)

June: Have you got a hotpoint, Val?

Val: I did have one once according to Trev.

June: (Bursts out laughing) Don't val, I can't take anymore, I'm plaitng my legs here.

Val: Well I'm glad you're laughing.

Trev: ( Shouting from the upstairs bathroom window) Vaaaaaaaaal there's no more bog roll? Be a sweetheart and fetch me one.

Val: Only time he ever calls me sweet heart is when he needs a bog roll. You better get me two Blue's, June.

June: ( Laughing uncontrollably) I best go myself Val, Ted's already watered his prized lawn this morning.

Both go in opposite directions.

SFX Brass band plays the last notes of 'On Ilkla Moor Baht' 'at'

1) Bondage did not end well for Bob Dylan; Tangled up and Blue.

2) My wife likes sad sex, only she calls it Rhythm and blues.

I've got a project on so might maintain radio silence for a while.

Big Bluey is a stand up comedian. He is also a Blue Whale.

Big Bluey: Hi Mick.

Mick: Hi Big Bluey. How you doing?

BB: I'm struggling Mick. Since our last session, I don't feel funny. Haven't written a good joke in ages. I'm bingeing on krill. Don't know what to do.

Mick: Sounds like writers block. Keep at it.

BB: It's no good. You told me to "write what I know". What DO I know man? Krill. The sea. Echos. Groans and moans and isolation. Where's the funny in that? Need to stop doing puns about krill. Need to write more observational stuff. But who wants to know about what I observe. Boring miles and miles of ocean. I can't relate to my audience. I'm the largest animal that ever lived. My tongue weighs more than an elephant. My heart weighs the same as a car.

Mick: What kind of car?

BB: Eh?

Mick: Well you know, a hatchback? Estate? Big old 4 by 4? You can be more funny by being specific about something.

BB: I don't bloody know Mick. Ford effing Fiesta.

Mick: Allright. Moody. Do you remember the session we did on disguising punchlines?

BB: But saying my set ups take me 5 minutes. People can hear them coming from 500 miles away. Wrote some stuff about killer whales but it sucks.

Mick: Give me a try. Let's hear it.

BB: Well, why are they called "killer" whales? We don't call other animals "killers". Like "killer Tiger" or "killer Pike". "Killer Spiders". They all eat other animals for food. Why aren't they all called killers? Surely "killer" whales kill more than once. They should be called "Serial Killer" whales. Or do all whales do it once, then repent their ways? Saying sorry to sea lions for redemption?

Mick: What are your krill puns again?
BB: Piss off Mick.

VOICE: Handing over to Michael and Brad on the US side and Sergei and Vlad on the Russian side. Please confirm ready status US .

MICHAEL: Ready.

BRAD: Ready.

VOICE: Confirmed. Please confirm ready status Russia.

SERGEI: Ready.

VLAD: Hold on a minute. (Beat...Loud fart). Ready.

ALL LAUGH

VOICE: Confirmed, you dumb Ruskey bastards. Speak to you in 12. Out.

MICHAEL: Good evening fellas.

VLAD: And good morning to you guys. Sergei can't speak at the moment he is trying to hold his breath.

SERGEI: 12 hours he saves it.

VLAD: Ok, the theme is 'Blue'. Like Sergei's face.

SERGEI: 12 hours he won't fart. He waits until we are locked into our bunker.

MICHAEL: Blue Moon.

VLAD: Blue suede shoes.

BRAD: Nice...Blue Danube.

SERGEI: Blue grass.

MICHAEL: Cool...

SERGEI: Thanks.

MICHAEL: Blue light.

VLAD: Is that a blue light on a police car?

MICHAEL: No, a blue backlight.

VLAD: Oh, ok. So, I go for a blue Light on a police car.

SERGEI: Wait, is blue light a thing, isn't it called a UV Backlight?

MICHAEL: Too late Sergei. Vlad has had his go. Who's turn is it?

BRAD: Blue planet.

SERGEI: Good one my friend. Richard Attenborough, a great man. He could be Russian (SILENCE). I am kidding. I know it was not 'Dickie' Attenborough...

VLAD: No. It was his brother, 'Boaty Mcboat face'.

MICHAEL: Nearly two years we have been talking to you guys and I am amazed every day how much you know. How can you come up with all these cultural references?

SERGEI: Well we figured we will own you one day so we should take an interest.

VLAD: And have you seen Russian TV? I am watching America get great again on FOX. Sergei is more of an intellectual, he watches British TV a lot.

MICHAEL: Glad to hear it, the BBC?

SERGEI: Naked attraction.

MICHAEL: No, that is not on the BBC.

SERGEI: I like it because Your tiny western penises remind me of my wife's clitoris.

MICHAEL: I've told you before if they have an Adams apple then that is not a clitoris.

BRAD: Do you guys know why Starlin grew a moustache?

SERGEI & VLAD: (TOGETHER) To look more like his mother.

BRAD: Your go Sergei.

SERGI: Blue Blood.

MICHAEL: Would that be Romanov blood?

VLAD: There is an old Russian saying you cannot make a revolution without breaking a few royals.

MICHAEL: Toilet Blue.

VLAD: What?

SERGEI: As my colleague said, what?

BRAD: I'm with you guys, what? This has to be a limey thing.

MICHAEL: Firstly, I am not a Limey I came to the US when I was six months old. Secondly I am a naturalised American. I am at least as American as Melania Trump.

VLAD: Melania... I bet her clitoris is bigger than my wife's penis.

MICHAEL: That is an image that will keep me awake tonight. And yes Toilet Blue, spelt Blu is a UK Product.

SERGEI: Red.

MICHAEL: We haven't finished with Blue yet.

SERGEI: Two minutes ago we had a red alert light.

BRAD: Have you confirmed Red 1 status?

SERGEI: Just come through.

MICHAEL: Jesus.

SERGEI: Do you have a red light?

MICHAEL: No, nothing. Brad Is trying to get a raise someone now. Why did you not mention the red light straight away? Buffer Protocol says we have to be open and immediate with each other. Shit fellas that is why we are here, we are meant to be the human element in the system.

SERGEI: What is happening have you launched anything yet?

VLAD: Can you speak to anyone? Still nothing?

MICHAEL: Nothing! You have to hit the abort!

VLAD: Michael whilst there is still time I have to tell you (BEAT) Happy birthday, but you can't have Toilet Blu. So you are out and it's my turn...

MICHAEL: What? Are you in on this Brad!? There was no f**king red light was there? You bastards!

VLAD: Turning the air blue?

Playfull please.

Ha Michael wins it for me

Michael for me. It's the latest in a long strong of rude covers of existing songs, but this is definitely the best, I guess because as it's a list song, it lends itself to homophones more, and because it's funny to think of Julie Andrews singing it.

I agree, Michael's filth fest. Mainly because i couldn't help but sing it in my head as i read it.

Playfull for my vote.

Quote: playfull @ 27th July 2020, 9:32 PM

I agree, Michael's filth fest. Mainly because i couldn't help but sing it in my head as i read it.

I can't get it out of my head.

Between Playfull and Michael, I'll go Playfull.