Blythswood brings a Romanesque legion to the Great Gymkhana Circus for the 16th time AD.
The squad is bigger than Ben Hur but our performances of late have more resembled “The Life of Brian”.
We race tuk tuks not chariots.
We are full of Silliius Soddus’. We have a Biggus Dickus and most of us get Incontinentia Buttocks during the week. Of course Rodders is our Messiah!
Blessed are the run makers, wicket takers and beer drinkers.
We love cricket but really we are just very naughtee boys.
Most importantly “We all look on the bright side of life!”
Once again we welcome JPEE back to the cricket sixes. If you are wondering what he has been up to the past year, let me tell you he has just invented the sexual temperance spoon, one whack and it’s on the slack, ideal gift for any of you custard slingers out there. The one thing puzzling JPEE these days is why monkeys are hairy and have bald pink arses, while he is as bald as a coot and has a big hairy arse. JPEE is into cycling these days and he likes nothing better than to toodle down the high streets of Peckham on his Noddy bicycle. To avoid getting a sore behind he simply places a naan bread over the saddle. This comforts his ride and when he returns home, hey presto! A warm snack. He likes to pretend to the neighbours that he has a musical talent. He pretends to play the trombone by farting into a watering can. His solo of I’ve Got You Under My Skin has to be heard to be believed. He is just back from the hospital where he underwent surgery, as doctors had to remove a small monkey from his liver after it burrowed its way into his organ. Police are now searching for the busker responsible for the incident. He has a fondness these days for IKEA furniture, so pop over to the Blythswood cabana and help him to assemble a wardrobe so he can hide in there and jump out and scare dusky maidens.
KC once again brings his tired and disheveled body to the sixes. It has been a hard time for KC as the ravages of drink have finally taken their toll. Last week he attended an AA meeting and to his horror, each person present stood up and openly admitted to being an alcoholic. He thinks to himself, I’m not having these boastful drunkards repairing my car. He can only hope the RAC have more responsible employees. KC’s addiction to the liquid stuff is beginning to get out of hand what with the licking mustard off dogs’ testicles and pissing on OAP’s in Marks and Spencer’s Lingerie section. His latest wheeze came about when he was watching TV and he caught the advert: the one where they ask, “have you had an accident in the last three years?” “You could claim compensation”, they continue. He phoned claims Direct expecting to be passed on to a solicitor and a big cash payout, only to be told that drinking 20 pints of real ale, before sneezing and following through was, “not an accident”, but hey, it’s not like he did it on purpose is it? Come over to the cabana and meet our friendly alcoholic who will surreptitiously slip a Cadbury’s chocolate button or two between your arse cheeks and then make fun of the fact that you have shit yourself.
Lovee maintains his unbroken run at the Sixes as he stumbles ever closer to becoming a Chiang Mai resident.
Stumblin’ around the field. Stumblin’ between wickets. Stumblin’ with ball in hand. Stumblin’ between bars. Stumblin’ home at night. Sounds like a Chris Norman / Suzi Q song!
Lovee’s Boundaree Bar Banana Daiquiree Breakfast Buddee is not here this year so he will strike a lonelee figure in the cabana.
Now that the gate of the arsehole farm has been left open and Randee escaped, he is back at the sixes and people once again will be asking themselves a very important question. “Do you ever think how much happier we would be if his mother had only swallowed? Randee recently discovered that he is 98% German on Ancestry.com which is why he got Angela Merkle confused with Meghan Markle and caused himself much embarrassment when he was caught having a biff and splashing over the wrong woman in his copy of Shaking Hands with The Milkman magazine. During the seventies Randee was a teacher at a private preparatory school in the south of England. Every morning after prayers, the boys would be encouraged to swim naked in the outdoor dipping pond. Randee would join them smearing himself with oil and encouraging the young scamps to treat him like a slide when entering the water. He would use his erection to stop them slipping in too quickly, urging them to grab hold of it as they whooshed down his greasy torso. A great time was had by all and how Randee wishes he could go back to those halcyon days of youth and innocence. I daresay he is spanking one out just thinking of those lovely days. This will be Randee’s umpteenth visit to the sixes and it will be interesting to see the hairstyle he adopts this year. Will it be the Guy at the School Gates or the Boy Scout Leader hoping to march the penguin with a few bronzed fit youths? We wait and see. He was round at his mate’s house the other evening and he told his mate’s nan, Doreen that her fairy cakes were delicious. The smooth talking rascal thought he was well in there. Boy did he get a shock when she went berserk when Randee woke her up at 3am by slapping his cock on her chin.Pop over and pay Randee a visit, you will never see so many facets of self-love in your life as Randee takes the self-guided tour of his lower parts.
Our intrepid skipper Rodders returns for yet another fling at the sixes. What can be said about this illustrious leader of men? Not many people know that in a previous life, that Rodders was a doctor. He was a good doctor but got struck off, just for having sex with one of his patients. Ten bloody years training down the drain. The British Veterinary Council are all a bunch of shits. Rodders used to perform minor skin grafts on pigs by covering any cuts or grazes with thin strips of bacon. Now Rodders has been going out with his girlfriend for some time, it seems OK when he breaks wind in bed. It’s when he follows through that the petty arguments begin. He will never understand women. Recently Rodders had an operation on his leg but he wanted a male doctor and not his usual lady GP. He’s thinking she’ll no doubt be too busy thinking about knitting patterns, shoes or recipes to give him a proper diagnosis. So a male doctor it was who looked after him. Whilst recuperating in hospital some of his so called mates gave him Salt and Viagra crisps to munch on. The nibbles that keep you up ALL NIGHT LONG! To compensate others gave him Dry Rohypnol Peanuts. Poor Rodders did not know whether he was coming or going. Let us see what our man of the moment gets up to this year.
Blythswood’s very own 3rd Proclaimer is unfortunately unable walk 500 miles to Chiang Mai this year.
Charlee has suffered significant plumbing problems this year. His pipes have been damaged and we all know how important pipes are to a Scotsman!
Forensic investigations have revealed that banana daiquirees from the Boundaree Bar may be the source of the infection.
Despite valiant attempts by Marissa to give Charlee’s pipes a clean out he could not “Be the Man to Walk 500 more!” There is a suggestion that instead of solder and acetylene penicillin could be more effective!
Donut is back and he can tell you one or two things about chimpanzees. Donut’s mother is a cleaner at Whipsnade Zoo and during the seventies she got pregnant off one of the monkeys. He was very excited about his new hairy sister, but it wasn’t a big success. His dad let it go into the woods at the back of the house. It ran up a tree and he never saw it again. Donut is now totally fascinated by the idea of breeding a human/chimpanzee hybrid. Such a mongrel, combining as it would the intelligence of Homo sapiens with the strength and agility of Pan troglodytes would certainly be a force to be reckoned with. Donut works in the canteen at Knowsley Safari Park, so access to monkeys isn’t a problem. But what he wants to know is, should he bang a female chimpanzee to get her pregnant, or should he get one of the males to do his missus instead? Answers on a postcard please. Donut is fed up of with his wife complaining that men don’t pay women enough attention, yet when the wife’s sister found the spycam he installed in her bathroom extractor fan, she went mental and called the police. Perhaps some of these so called ‘feminists’ would care to explain the logic behind that. When you go to the toilet to snap one off just be aware in case Donut has got his electronic software all set up to go.
Dread has become a vegetarian or is it Vegan? Oh FFS. What is it with vegetarians and their veggie sausages and burgers? I’m a meat eater, but I don’t go around making carrots and sprouts out of beef. I man was meant to be a vegetarian why did he make animals out of meat? Dread attended a catholic church service recently where the priest declared before communion: ‘This is my body and this is my blood’. Dread was a little disappointed that in this day and age they do not offer a vegetarian option. If there are any vegetarians reading this and you are looking for a tasty alternative to meat. There isn’t one. Eat meat. For fuck’s sake. Who would know that Dread is a big fan of priests. As he says: ‘Everyone is always quick to point the finger at paedophile priests. But in all fairness, surely half the blame must be on the ten year old boys for being just so damned sexy’. When Dread’s girlfriend told him ‘she’s got the painters in’ he understood what the euphemism means and he knows sex is off the menu for a few days. So imagine the surprise he got when after telling him just the other evening, he called round to her flat for a game of Scrabble and discovered her with two blokes in bib and braces overalls giving her a double penetration over a pasting table. That’ll teach him to be a vegan, she wants real man meat now. Gone are the days when we used to get a blow job from Dread for a pound in the bike shed as no more meat is tickling the back of his throat anymore. Bring him a burger at the sixes, maybe we can bring him back into the fold.
Dubb, the farting playboy from Tanzania is once more back in the fray to terrify batsmen with his unorthodox style of bowling. Talking of farting, whilst at the sixes last year the mighty Dubb was in the habit of blowing bubbly ones right in people’s faces. So be warned, stay away from his disgusting anal acoustic attacks. On the subject of jam, when Nigella Lawson licks jam off her fingers, Dubb gets a raging nob-on but when his missus does it he feels slightly nauseous. Are they buying the wrong brand of jam? On the other hand, when Dubb’s missus is hanging wallpaper and she gets some wallpaper paste in her mouth, she instantly swallows it, dips her hands in the paste and rubs it all over her tits, this is enough for Dubb to ‘whip up some love mayo’. Dubb loves to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and wrap all the cereal boxes together in cling film to mimic a Kellogs variety pack then place them on the table. When his missus comes down in the morning she thinks she has arrived in the land of the giants. Talking of his missus, there is just no pleasing her. She complains when he leaves the toilet seat up and she complains when he leaves it down and pisses all over it. You will easily recognize Dubb at the sixes, he is the guy always playing with himself as nobody else will play with him.
Once again, the dynamic Glenn returns to the sixes for some more jolly japes. Glenn is quite upset that he was passed over for the job of stalker in his local Marks & Spencer. When he found out that someone else had got the job his heart just sank – I mean how could management decide who could follow ladies around and not pick him to do the job. That would have been a plump gig and poor old Glenn is heartbroken. Glenn has now decided to invite chimpanzees to come round to his house for a glass of wine and to watch some naughty movies. Glenn wonders, why is it every time he takes chimps into his house, they put butter in his shoe or something. He now has a good mind to stop letting chimps into his house. Glenn gets very easily aroused when watching the cricket, which is why we have to clothe him in anti wanking underwear. If you see a guy in distress in the Blythswood cabana, do not worry it is only Glenn trying to shake hands with the milkman. According to HSBC, the rudest thing you can do in Thailand is to show the soles of your feet. What nonsense, on his last trip to Chiang Mai Glenn shat on a ladyboy’s tits whilst his sister wanked him into their mum’s hair. Hurrah for Glenn, welcome back to the sixes big fella.
Goochee is back, what more can be said? Well let’s see, he was kicked out of his grandmother’s house recently with a note attached. The note read, “Sorry we can’t look after him anymore, please take care of him”. That is how he ended up on the streets selling his arse for Cadbury’s chocolate buttons. He has a penchant these days for hanging around bookshops and as you know the saying goes, “You can’t judge a book by its cover”. What nonsense says Goochee. The last edition of ‘high school anal’ he bought featured a young lady stuffing a big one up her bomb-bay on the front page, and this turned out to be an excellent indication of the contents, so there! Goochee is a rather naughty lad; he likes to go door to door asking to look at women’s tits claiming to be doing a survey. ‘Women’ do not fall for this and show him your tits. There is no survey, he just wants to see your tits. Once seen, he will then scurry into a bush and ‘box the one-eyed chap’ or even ‘audition the finger puppets’. His sister has three children who he can’t stand, so he took the precaution of indecently exposing himself to his Grandmother and her mates in order to get himself put on the sex offender’s register. The neighbor’s pushing dog dirt through his letterbox all year is a small price to pay for a nice quiet Christmas without his sister's horrible brats in the house. Come on over to the cabana where Goochee will regale you with his nefarious activities.
When he is not urinating over his fish and chips to give them that acidic hit, Jella can be found at his local watering hole giving fascist speeches whilst dressed as a gay fireman auditioning for a part in his local Village People tribute band. Jella has now started a cat food manufacturing business with all sorts of fancy flavours. One evening he caught his cat furtively licking its arse. Over a few days observation Jella noted that all his cat and other cats wanted to do was lick their arses all the time. Epiphany time for Jella! Cat’s arse-flavoured food, that’s a winner he thinks, and it was. Since then he purrs around in his mink lined rolls Royce distributing cat’s arse flavoured crisps to the poor and needy. He has now started a line of diarrhea and custard flavoured pot noodles which is a big seller in China. Jella would also like to say ‘what a load of bollocks hygiene laws are’. He was a baker for 12 years and not once did he wash his hands after having a shit and nobody ever complained. Jella has now started a campaign against horses shitting in the street. Why is it acceptable for horses to shit in the street and not him? He is the one who pays council tax after all. He is going to hold a mass shit in at the boundary bar on Wednesday, so polish up your rings and show some solidarity.
The Russian dictator Jens is back for yet another roasting at the sixes. Now that he has ravaged every wild boar on his estate he is now in Chiang Mai looking for fresh meat. He has recently learned that you cannot make someone love you. All he can do now is to stalk them and hope they panic and give in. Whilst I don’t go in for it myself, I can see how Jens might get a little kick from a bit of spanking during sex. I can also see his need for a bit of bondage and role play to turn him and his girlfriend on. But when it comes to couples shitting on each other for thrills, I am afraid that goes over my head. Try as I might, unlike Jens, I just cannot see an erotic link between sex and turds. Come to the cabana and ask Jens to explain the appeal of this practice. Or if there are any Germans at the sixes maybe they could provide the answer. Another fanciful thing that Jens likes to do is go to the hair salon on a weekly basis. The gorgeous blond who cuts his hair thoughtfully gives him a tissue when she has finished. Obviously she knows he is going straight home to wank over her. However, the last time he went, she wasn’t there and a bloke with a moustache cut his hair. Imagine his disgust when he also gave him a tissue. He won’t be going back there again. Come and have a chat with Jens about his proclivities and experiences. He will also pass on his gold medal winning formula for homemade pile cream.
Junior, the guy who sits around chugging into milk bottles makes it once again to the sixes. He is an avid fan of homosexual donkey dancing, in fact anything bestial makes him reach for the milk bottle to give it a really good seeing to. Such is his dedication to bludgeoning the beef steak that he has his own wall of fame in his local boozer, The Lubricated Fleshlight”. On the subject of lubrication, Junior recommends Kiiroo Aqua. (I wonder how many people are looking up fleshlight now?) After he visits the toilet to do some business, Junior feels the need to handle himself, which brings us to the question, “Is he sexually aroused by the scent of fecal matter”? Junior says no, but the jury is out on that one. The intrepid Junior suffers terribly from arse gout which in medical terms is high class flatulence fueled by rich foodstuffs. “Another helping of venison, foie gras and port trifle, Sir Junior?” ‘I shouldn’t really Carruthers. It gives me terrible arse gout.’ In fact the more things involving arse rippling and Junior is your man. He particularly loves a bit of bullfrogging. He loves to fart against a closed door from the outside so that the occupants of the room believe that a large bullfrog is about to enter. We welcome Junior and his arse gymnastics back into the Blythswood fold.
Kip wearing his dodgy embroidered loons, Afghan coat and various assortment of love beads once again struggles manfully to the sixes. Kip is trying to woo a new girlfriend who is a big lover of cats, but he can’t stand the damned things. Nonetheless he has convinced his girlfriend that he is a cat lover by taking a razor blade to his furniture and pissing frequently behind the settee. Kip wants people to know that he is a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. He is desperate to meet sympathetic women (preferably couples) who understands his plight, to see past the curse of penis affliction and initiate him into the joys of lesbian love. Please reach out and help a sister in distress is all he asks. He is going through real mental issues and he wants you to know that when nailing your scrotum to the kitchen table for the purposes of sexual gratification, always ensure that you leave the pliers within arm’s reach, not in the toolbox in the garden shed. Hence the reason he walks with a rather strange posture these days. Kip loves his girlfriend enormously and he was thinking of buying her some red roses for Valentine’s day …. until he saw the price of them, that is. 50 quid a dozen! He could get two prostitutes for that. So he did, romanticist that he is. We are looking forward to hearing more about his chimpanzee fixation when he comes to the sixes.
HRH The Duchess of Dipolog is unable to come to Chiang Mai this year. Her husband’s internal and external plumbing problems are her maintain priority. Marissa is an accomplished plumber brewer and shopper. Profits at Central Festival and Airport Plaza will be significantly diminished this year. While most people in Chiang Mai wander around with face masks and are unrecognizable. As soon as Marissa walks into a shop there is not a face mask in sight. Just a huge smile!
Marissa’s charm and smile will be missed in the cabana but don’t despair retailers! HRH will be back!
Our beautiful real estate/insurance saleswoman returns for tour 3. Despite watching a lot of cricket with Lovee the game remains a mysteree to May. The unusual clothes the weird equipment and why stand in the sun at the hottest time of the year? One of the things May does enjoy is the social life! But she is yet to sample the Boundaree Bar’s legendary banana daiquirees. Maybe this year?
Rhino, the retired dog walker returns for some more jolly japes at the sixes. Rhino has always been intrigued by dogs’ behavior where they sniff each other’s bottoms. So when he was in the park last week, he crept up behind a dog and he gave its anus a good sniff to see what it’s all about. He has to admit that he does not get what they see in it at all. He says that he certainly won’t be doing it again. Rhino has just got his wife pregnant for the seventeenth time and all her friends come round, rub her tummy and say congratulations, yet none of them rub his cock and say ‘well done’. Bastards! Rhino’s missus reckons that breast-feeding is healthy and natural (well she would know, 16 mouths have already clamped themselves to her paps) and that a woman should be able to do it anywhere. Rhino agrees, but would like to point out that masturbation is also healthy and natural, not that you’d think it with reaction he got on the number 14 bus this morning. Now that Rhino has retired, he has now got himself a part time job at his local theme park working on the rides. All he asks is that all female visitors wear loose fitting tops so that their jugs fall out. Rhino reckons it makes for excellent viewing on dull days. He can be a bit of a prude mind you. The other day whilst visiting his local Tesco, he saw a sign which read “Mum of the Year 2020’. Enter Your Mum Now!’ he was so disgusted that he vomited on the spot. ‘C’mon Tesco, clean up your act or get out of town’ he said. We hope he feels better when he reaches the sixes.
Sweetie the slum landlord is fascinated by arses. He wants to know how dogs get Rolls Royce arseholes that crimp off perfectly each time, whereas humans get the Skoda model where you have to use a bit of paper to chase it halfway round your back? He wants Armitage Shanks to make a taller lavatory bowl so that people like himself can appreciate a more satisfying plop. To save himself embarrassment on washday, he places a 2 inch strip of sellotape in the gusset of his underpants every morning, this can simply be wiped clean after any unfortunate accidents and mum will never know. He has recently started to ‘march the penguin’ whilst fantasizing about Jeanette Krankie, his problem is that he cannot work out if he is gay, straight or a paedophile. We just think he needs to get out more. Sweetie is a rather shy guy and he enjoys swimming but does not want to be seen half naked by other bathers. His solution to recreate the fun of a visit to the public swimming pool is to fill his bath with cold water, adding two bottles of bleach then pissing into it before jumping in, luxury! Sweetie is doing a night class science degree and he does not understand that if everything is made from atoms, then why does chocolate ice cream taste wonderful and dog shite taste awful. Come on Einstein, explain that one. Not that he has ever eaten dog shite, you understand. Lovely guy is Sweetie, at least his pet dog Fluffer loves him.
The Spirit turns up once more to have his usual pleasures at the sixes. Not a lot of people know that The Spirit is a keen nudist, and he’s forever accidentally stabbing his penis with his fork whilst cooking sausages on the barbecue. To get over this problem he now writes the words ‘Your Cock’ on his penis and ‘Not Your Cock’ on his sausages with a marker pen every time he lights the barbecue. He recently had an affair with a mature woman, 25 years older than himself. He ca recommend the experience to other people who, like him, are too overweight and ugly to get off with a decent looking bird their own age. They say that lightning never strikes in the same place twice. Nonsense. The missus caught The Spirit sniffing her sister’s panties in her toilet and she kicked him in the nuts twice. It’s uncanny how some of these old sayings are true. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’, said his missus as she waved goodbye to him on the way to spend a month with her mother. Since then he has grown fonder of the next door neighbour. He actually gave her one in her rug on the living room carpet early one morning. ‘Ooh, that’ll take some cleaning’ she said to The Spirit as she was leaving to make her husband’s lunch. The other evening, he drank 10 pints of Guinness followed by 10 bottles of port which he rounded off with 10 bottles of Advocat. In the morning he shat a perfectly rolled up German flag. Come over to the cabana and watch him get up to all sorts of arse gymnastic. The Spirit, we salute you.