Posts filed under 'Loins'
Hello, my name is Mr Smudgey and I am here to prove to you and everyone else watching that I am the most famous man on the planet at this very point in time. Wait… no it’s still me. Tom Cruise was close there. You may think you don’t know who I am but boy is that going to change. To prove my point I am going to show you all the various sources of my hidden exposure and bring them to the surface for everyone to see. That way I can be praised for the future A-lister I am.
Point Number One – referred to in the song ‘Mad World’ by Tears for Fears and then later sung by some burk in a flat cap.
“I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad,
 These dreams of Mr Smudgey are the best I ever had”
Hand over the royalties Roland whatsisface, I was clearly the inspiration for that song and without me it would have disappeared without a trace. People secretly bought it for the reference to me. Don’t bother with a cheque just leave a small suitcase outside my basement bedroom window, but make sure you don’t wake my parents up!
November 6th, 2007
It would be easy for me to sit here and dismiss Nigella Lawson as the lemon-cooking, denim-jacket-wearing, sh*t-talking toff that she is and I think seeing as I’ve nothing better to do I shall.
Audrey is quite fanatical about her recipes. I have tasted the gubbins and the gubbins were good although I think it had more to do with Auds rather than the original chef. Nigella lives with her non-existant husband in what can only be described as the biggest house in Christendom. Her larder is bigger than our entire kitchen. her daily life consists of taking taxis to and from Sainsburys before going home, cooking for five minutes (it’s called ‘Nigella Express’ after all) and then spending the rest of the day sitting smugly in front of her laptop. Smug doesn’t even come close actually. She is unparalled in her smugness almost to the point where I’d rather eat tulips than check to see if her nipples are showing through whatever piece of fancy free she’s decided to cook in today.
Don’t you judge me!
Anyone who can say things like, “modestly bulging crescents” and, “glorious mounds” clearly needs a huge slap around the chops with the biggest loin in reach. Please, anyone within spitting distance, this would be gratefully appreciated.
November 5th, 2007
Following on from the original ‘Property Company Names’ segment of the website Audrey recently came across one which I believe is an almost, if not absolutely, perfect example of how to name your company properly:
‘Mr. Grumbley’s Window Cleaning Service’
It’s got everything: the guy’s name, what he does and suggesting the possibility that, despite it being his surname, he might not like it too. I’d grumble if I had to clean windows all day.
How about them apples?
October 26th, 2007
I’m MC Hullah, I got lotsa moolah
I work wit’ grass skirts, it don’t get worse
Than dancin’ from side to side all day
I ride on a Harley, that means I’m not gay
(MC Hullah – ‘Grass Skirts’ – Infectious Records 2007)
October 22nd, 2007
There have been a number of funny or funnily-named things that I have come across recently. They mainly revolve around solicitors and clients names but hey, that’s the shit that I shovel man. First I found a firm of solicitors called Kevill’s however it gets better. There is now some solicitors called ‘Straine Keville’. Now, obviously this means nothing to the two solicitors who run the firm yet to us, well, it’s a perplexing image. Two client names that cropped up are:
- Fanny Pearson
- Minnie Willie
The best name comes from a man who did some of the additional voices in Toy Story 2 though. This is a genuine name as well I must add and that man’s name was…
Rodger Bumpass.
October 22nd, 2007
Mr. Cockall interviews tomorrows geniuses (using song)
Who are you?Â
Gardy Guh-huh-de-ha
What’s the Idea?
Extendo-loins. It’s a way of extending your loins beyond the normal human capacity.
What is it?
In conjunction with a grant by Jerry Loinsford’s Academy, I have been working on stretching parts of the human body starting with the loins. The extendo-loins allows you to stretch them up to an additional one metre and with further research I believe they can go further.
What does it do?
When you’re getting down and funky on the dancefloor and you see a hot bitch shuffling by herself and you want to get her attention you can extend the extendo-loins. Not only will your sexual prowess increase ten-fold but it’ll show her that she’s the only hot bitch for you. If it worked in the seventies it’s bound to work now.
So what are you gonna do about it?
Nothing (!) Mr. Cockall, it’s all in my head >:)
September 25th, 2007
I typed the words, “crank weasel” into Google and apparently there’s a game called Crank The Weasel. How odd.
                                         
 This is about as exciting as my life gets.
September 19th, 2007
Hey you guys! Erm yeah, I just got an email from my hosting people informing me to the fact that I have to renew constantlyfalling.co.uk. Now I dont much use this now, I was just wondering if either of you had any final ideas for its use before I release it back into the pool of life for other bastards to get their greasy mitts on it.
You have until the 10th to decide….
September 4th, 2007
Just take a look at this and then try tell me we aren’t the most street buch of mo fo’s ever to come ouf of G to the arforth.
Streetify!
Word.
August 27th, 2007
Look at that below me, right. Look at that sh*t. I don’t care if someone was in a band man I’m in one right now. Yeah. I’m living in the dream. I’m counting the pennies. I’m swirling the hips in the knee-high boots on Shakespeare’s grave. Yeah.
None of us can play instruments and since Paul left Dickinson Dees to join a rival firm in Sunderland is has kind of crippled the whole band ethic and the closeness but we’re still together and still knocking out the tunes like they were sarnies on a Sunday. Here’s a little ditty we’ve been scooping up. This is Snowy Cakes by The Festive Do-ers:
Snowy Cakes – Festive Do-ers
I pieced together snowy cakes from snow that hit my drive
I threw the snowball at my dad, it’s great to be alive!
He didn’t take it badly but he didn’t take it well
He told me I had sinned and I was going straight to hell
I worried all that winter, I never took a rest
In fact I always had to sleep with a knife upon my chest
In case Satan decided to come and get me early
After three long months of sleepless nights dad handed me a curly wurly
It was all a bunch of horrid lies, I was as good as gold
Those eight young years of good behaviour was sufficient, so I was told
To keep my away from fiery gates and the jaws of Mr. Death
It’s a shame I’m such a b*stard now and there is no time left
Going down, going down
Yes I swear I’m going down
Going down, going down
Pretty sure I’m going down.
August 6th, 2007
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