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Story No. 1186
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I always was a really good tennis player. Qualifying for my fifteenth Wimbledon, I thought I'd eliminated my
collection of piss poor 80s records, but every now and again something by Wham or Brother Beyond turns up on the selves, and I have to flagellate myself until I have been justly punished, plead forgiveness from God, and burn the record in a ceremonial
record player, on 45 rpm, which made it sound a bit like the "Chipmunks go to Church", which was a hit with juvenile catholic miscreants at the time. A Papal decree banning chipmunk
nudity. The Italian women began furiously knitting g-strings and also decided to knit them nut sacks.
'Knit them what?' squaked my old gran. Bless her. She set off with her crochet hook to take measurements of nut sacks.. with unpredicatable results. Miraculously we discovered she was a dab hand a vasectomy's! She's now pulling down
the foreskins, one after another with rapid urgency. And so, the helmets gleam in all their splendor.
- Contributors:
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zomnoth -
The Bishop of Southwark -
Vern Acula -
JanW -
Crowfeeder -
the butcher
[ See who wrote what ]
