"Colonel Gadaffi apparently had a knife shoved up his jacksie just before they shot him in Libya last week. They are calling it a sexual assault. The reasons for which escape me unless the knife was phallicly styled".
I have posted on both Facebook and other blogs that I find this hilarious and have been met with scorn and disdain by other readers. I have been called "salacious" and "tasteless" as well as "vile and out of character".
So that you can understand where I'm coming from I'll relate this tale of despicable woe.A friend of mine was beaten into a coma by 6 chavs that it took him 3 weeks to wake up from. He woke up the same day doctors switched off his girlfriend’s life support machine (she was beaten to death trying to save him).
The guys who beat him are all in prison. Getting 3 squares a day, free anger management and use of a gym. All at taxpayers’ expense.
My mate gets VOLUNTARY counselling for bereavement and depression from a 91 year old lady (who’s “all there and a lovely old gal”) and was discharged from hospital the same day they switched off his girlfriend’s life support machine….with a packet of Aspirin for his headaches due to being repeatedly kicked in the head.
So…I make no apologies for the above comment. Gadaffi got exactly what he deserved.
On a happier note...
I am in Leamington Spa library and some homeless bum that comes in and reads the daily rag for 5 hours every day to keep warm just started coughing like John Wayne’s mule and then fell off his seat. He lay on the floor with a can of Special Brew in his coat pocket and his fly open.
I pounded up the corridor to where he lay while other concerned library users did that British thing of “standing up and looking concerned but not yet intervening”.
I went “you ok mate?” to which he replied cheerfully:
“fine thanks, I’ll get up in a minute”
“think you might want to get up now mate, everyone’s looking at you” (trying not to look at his fly).
He eventually heaves himself back up and sits down.
Good deed done for the day, and it appeared to have impressed the young lady sitting opposite me who appeared impressed by my desire to help out.
Tramp spoilt it by walking past us a few minutes later leaving a Tron light cycle-esque trail of stench behind him that, 10 minutes later has still not faded (not exaggerating, the bloke near to us had his scarf over his mouth and nose).
We also found out that he’d either spilled Special Brew on the floor or peed himself when he fell off his chair.