Hello,
Enjoying the Winter Olympics? Neither am I.
My lovely wife Shirley is though. Especially the Ice Skating. Last night Shirl and her sister Doreen, each chomping on a giant Toblerone, were watching it on TV.
“Nice arse,” Doreen said as some fella skidded around throwing in a toe loop here and a triple lutz there.
This bloke’s shirt had sequins and feathers stitiched in! Sequins! Feathers!
ON A BLOKE!
I thought Putin didn’t like all this gay carry on. And here are all these “men” dressed like Liberace toddling around the rink in shiny, plumed apparel. (Now I would pay to see Liberace On Ice! Imagine - old Liber tinkling the ivories on skates as he tried to keep the old hair weave intact. He must have spent a fortune on glue. What a shame he missed out on the Velcro revolution).
“Nice arse,” said Doreen as a lad from Belarus hoved into view. He was wearing eye shadow! EYE SHADOW!
Doreen was becoming aroused. The hairs in her nostrils were twitching.
It was all too much for me small intestine so I visited the smallest room. The seat is a bit loose and wipeage has become a tricky maneuver. Fixing it is on my list of things to do. Along with breathing more regularly.
But that was of little concern as the seat slid from under me and I became the first man ever to perform the triple arse loop. As a result I inspected the mouldy toilet carpet. Two months ahead of schedule. At least I can take that off my list of things to do.
“Lard arse,” Doreen said as I returned to my chair. Shirl cackled and sparked up a Benson’s.
I fell asleep and dreamed of Olympic Glory……………
“Faster Lads”
Laters.
Bob