Conversational Miss Herrings Part XXXV


You act as if butter, wood and melon stand back as the train evaporates into the platform

He’s a stinky, stinky dog friend of anti-bee coffee who uses egg and shoulders

Forgot to watch my face

I wanna be Poseidon, I don’t wanna be remanded

That’s my favourite song with the word ‘ho’ in it

In a Bernie Inn I heard this song

It was sexually nicer yesterday

Look on the internet and see Ian Beale

You’ve got his overtime

Say goodbye and they’ll hang you in the bush

She looks like a posh student, hanging around that corner of Jewation

No more Vardy parties for the face boiling your boys in the swimming pool

Old ladies are queuing up to give their CVs to Elvis

It’s a fighting stand before realism and the hard economic farts of the new age finally overtake them

The country had responded by restraining its excrement about New Labour

But the moment Tony Blair stopped punching himself was probably when John Major’s bodyguard, Trevor Butler, arrived at the Blairs’ home in Richmond Crescent early on the morning of Friday

He hired a private island with lavish wombs

Jesus was supposed to come round on Wednesday to tile the roof, but he left the Huddersfield defence for bed and a box of women’s scandals

Hughes’s tactics tasked Enfield’s John Payne, a tough-tackling midfielder with winning the ball and pissing it off to a GB player

Cannibalise housing properties

Church welcomes Pokemon munters

I fancy Friday eggs

That’s the way the wig burns is it?

The vitamin E guy makes the best tea

That’s OK, I was going through your sirloin

You look more like a drummer now you’ve got a beard and put on weight

You look like someone from green chilli

Have you seen it when a chef asks Richard Blackwood to possess a lemon?

What did you go out with me for? Just to dump truck on my shirt and then dump me altogether? I don’t deserve that sort of treatment

Puel thinks Forster, 28, deserves a call from Three Lions chef Sam Allardyce who apologies for the lack of commas

The caretaker of a former nuclear banker who grew £71,000 of cannabis in it was jailed for 14 months at Worcester crown court

The bones were put in front of a screen and asked how they would have dealt with Italy and Wales

Alaistair Campbell kept bulging flies of press cuttings from which he calculated that eight out of ten newspaper commentaries were hostels to the war in hunting for the Huth



Thanks for the seedy response


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s