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Well that's torn it.
I take a couple of days off to help out on a humanitarian mission (distributing La Perla underwear to the underprivileged lap-dancers of deepest, darkest, Essex) and come back to find that 'all hell' has broken loose.
Sitting waiting for me on the hall mat yesterday was a letter from the 'Tea Drinkers Guild' of Ye Grande Olde and Merry Engerlandski.
'Blimey' sez I (Well, more like OMFG, but that's not the point) , opening it with trembling hands I find the following note handwritten (in blood):
'Dear ...Esteemed colleague, Yada, yada, it has come to our attention that you have recently disgraced the traditions of our venerable and ancient institution by revealing our sacred and arcane tea mashing methods to an 'outsider'. A dangerous and deviant member of the Oobaamaa Empire, (southern tribe no less). For this flagrant breech of policy we are hereby notifying you of our intention toooo ....., Excuse me, I had to break off for a cup of tea at this point as I was becoming weak from loss of blood. *Note - from this point on the rest of the letter is written in ink* call you to a disciplinary hearing on Tuesday the 26th of January at 8.00am to explain your actions. Failure to provide an adequate explanation will result in your permanent expulsion from the guild and the irrevocable withdrawal of your tea drinkers licence.
I hope this letter finds you well Yours Sincerely Group Captain Barrington Fortiscue OBE'
Well brothers, you can imagine my distress, here I was facing the terrible possibility of a permanent 'de-bagging'! Without tea, I might as well go and live in America (Yes, it really was as bad as that!).
However, (here the tale takes an even more surprising twist), late last night the two blond Eastern European sisters who I brought back from 'Peppermint Walrus' (I'm helping to rehabilitate them), woke me up to tell me that they'd heard a strange voice emanating from the TV.
Apparently it was some strange hypnotic mantra that just kept repeating itself over and over for about twenty minutes.
They went on to describe the voice as somewhat like 'Telly Savalas' in 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service' (The criminally underrated 'Bond' film). It kept saying: 'This is the Rocket Scientist, you must empty the contents of your humidor and place them in airtight bags ready for posting. I will tell you when, I will tell you where, and I will tell you how. In the morning you will wake refreshed and remember nothing of this conversation.'
Well, 'bugger me', sez I. That devious swine rokkitsci has been up to no good again with that darn Sooper-Sekrit Brain Communicator and combination pedicure kit thingy, you know the one that allows him to talk directly into someones head.
And now the penny drops, 'So that's why I felt the strange compulsion to send out that rabbit neutering device, I should have known!'.
Anyhow, to cut a long story slightly shorter, I'm pleased to report that, thankfully, the 'Tea Drinkers Guild' have accepted my plea of diminished capability due to the hypnotic suggestion that was implanted whilst under the influence of an evil 'brain washer', and have re-instated my tea drinkers license. Praise the Lord.
I just wanted to put this up as a cautionary tale to warn my fellow brothers out there who may have fallen victim to such nefarious (and downright unsporting) plot-tings.
P.S. The tea is, of course, 'Yorkshire Tea' specially selected and blended by Taylors of Harrogate'. Accept no substitute - only monkeys (no offence monkey) drink that other rubbish!
Originally posted by DRAGMASTER
Every time I sleep with a girl I smoke a cigar while we do it. It's exciting and makes you feel strong, manly and empowered.
Nah... they are actually the same person. El Catador doens't know but he was actually cloned from some of Rokkitsci skin... or maybe it is the other way around?
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