Saucy Postcards No 4: “Xmas Balls”

Mr Wigglesworth: “Would you rub my balls please Miss Jones?”
Miss Jones: “Wow! They’re whoppers Mr Wigglesworth!”

Plucky Uncles save thems Shed

Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain!
That all it doo down ere.
It doan rain like this is in ower luverly Norfuck. Gods Own Cownty!

It rain so bleddy much laste nite. Toerentshul it waz.
Storm almost took roofe auf.
Windas smascht.
Doore on inges.
Flawe nee deep in watter.
Shed toedall floodid OWT!

Cudden go faw wiggle this mawnin even – Loo on its laste legs!

Evereefin godda be draggd owt shed.
Dart Bored, Ludo, Scrabbles, Dominos. All wet.
Bags of Baccy. Sodden.
Socks and slippers. Soked.
Best Bikkies. Soggy.
Best Norfuck Brew. Ruined.
Jars of Spunkle Creem. Bustid.
Piccha of ower Deer Departid Fatha, Bobbie Big Bolloxs. Buggad.

All hands to pump wee am.
Watson upp ladda tackin roofe back on. “No, not there Watson me old cock – there!”
Billy Bodge ere to hold ladda so Watson doan breake his flippin neck.
Frankie Snooper sent ovva by his nosey mam to find owt wats going on.

Sis Bab is there look, sat on her fat boddum drinkin tea. Gassin an gossipin. Moanin all mawnin. Tellin us wat to do. Bleddy bossyboots!

But wee will get shed rite as rain wee will. Er, no, that wrong expreshun. Er, er……

Wen ower wet baks is to walle wee cum upp trumps.
Nevva say nevva. Nevva give in. Nevva be defeetid.
Wen the goin get tuff the Bobs get goin.
Yep, tuff as pair of ole welly boots is Bobs.

Bobs nevva fret. Bobs stay calm. Bobs carry on.
Thems got wat it takes to save thems happy home.

Shedloads of Norfuck pluck.

Harold & Nipper

Harold & Nipper are blown-ins (or swim-ins) to Torbay from the Thames Estuary.

Harold ere…
I lookin arfta Nipper as yoo can see….
Adoptid the lickle tyke…
Ever since his muvva swam away….
Wiv a sailor to the……
Gugugurglegagagalalapolus Islands!

Nipper: Is I King of the Rocks nah?!…..
Harold: Hey! Not on your flippin Flipper!
Nipper: But this rock mine ain’t it Harry?
Harold: Less of yore lip yoo cheeky young un!
Nipper: I sorry Harold
Harold: I’ll guugugive yoo sorry me lad!
Nipper: Wat yoo doin?!……
Harold: Shove off!
Flips Nipper from the rock into the sea

Nipper: Aaaaahhh!!
Harold: Serves yoo rite.
Nipper: Me hats all wet nah!
Harold: Never mind abaht hats. Guuugogo gegegeget me me brekkie
Nipper: Where from?!
Harold: Well where doo yoo fink?
Nipper: Watcombe caff?!
Harold: No! Here!
Nipper: Here? Where?!
Harold: Here, Everywhere!
Nipper: Uuugggh?!!
Harold: The bleddy Sea!

Nipper ducks head under

Harold shouting: Yoo gogogggogot snails for brains yoo Nipper!
Gogogoggorgordon Bennett!

Saucy Postcards No 3: “A Hot Dog”

How about I warm that hot dog of yours
Up in my microwave my luvver?

Leds ave a Shed Partee!

Wee’s add so much rain this summa. Oh dreary me!
Wee needs summat tu cheer us all up.
So wad abowt a SHED TEA PARTEE!

Invites sent owt to ani miserabull bugga wot fancees sum of Bobs Best Brew, Beer, Buns, Bikkies, anna slice of Uncles nice Norfuck Spunkle Creem Cake!

An see ere – look add all the bedraggled Riff-Raff hoo cums!
(Only jokin! Yoo goddu ave a laff!)

Cum on in Arfur Rituss. Yoo elps Miss Rumor Tissom to a ricketty ole chair there.

And Miss Magnolia’s mammalaruims gets a table all to themselves dunt them!

Yoo looks likes yoo needs a warmin brew too Mrs Anna Glypta.

Oh! It’s Ada Gages norti dorta Gabby Gage and her chap Choker.
Yawse, yoos boff ken puff wad yoo likes in ere. This shed izz a Smoke an Toke Zone.

An well, us nevers! Iff idd ain’t Colin Creosote be stood in door!

Watson??! Yoo pufft up enuff balloons.
Get more froot boxes faw folks tu sid on.

An hoo thad grinnin at winda?
Idd be liddle Spuddy and his muvva Mrs Chips!
Cum in the pair of yoos dunt ged all wet.

Wees ken all forget tha Worlds Doom an Gloom.

This shed gunna be Bobbie boppin this afftanoon!

Ged squeezebox an spoons owt ower Bobs – lets ave a bleddy Knees Up!

Then Wattie ken doo his Amazin Spesshal Partee Trick!

Saucy Postcards No 2: “Lick It!”

Masta Nizz Chee Beets Blitish Rain

Hello evileeblady! Masta Nizz Chee sen gleetins flom Norf Cholera to all yoo Blitish painndogs!

Masta Nizz Chee goddo two velli plactical ploshishun faw yoo today
Help yoo wen yoo gooin outtaside in allo thi hollibull Blitish rain

Wen yoo see hollibul Blitish rain comin doan go “Oh No!” wiv tha wee-a-ree Engliss moanin attichewed of plessimisstick glumbummeree.

Strip off too yore noody nubblies!
Emblace the rain! See rain as gift flom ower Grate Leeder!

MOST MASTA GRAYCHUSS BELIVID VELLI VENERABULL KIM YONG-UN – Yaaaaaahhh!!!!

Thi izz Masta Nizz Chee “Inna tha All Tooglevva Inna Rain” ploshishun

Bud iffo yoo doan fancee maken a compreete titty of yowerself here izz alternatiff to escape flom hollibull Blitish rain (noddo hollibull rain in Norf Cholera – iddo nice shinee rain, maken yore blodee reflesh)

Yoo run like crazee! Wiv trolley. Hav wheels will travel. Ful speedo ahed. Whoooosh! – away yoo sclarper like a mad trolley dash plerson!

This izz Masta Nizz Chee “Trolley Dash” ploshishun

Fank yoo evileeblady! Fank more mee – Masta Nizz Chee. An besto most fanks of all to

MOST MASTA GRAYCHUSS BELIVID VELLI VENERABULL GRATE LEEDER KIM YONG-UN – Yaaaaaahhh!!!!

Saucy Postcards No 1: “Busty Custards”

Unclism No 23

For the Uncles to feel
utterly, Bimblefully,
Bobbly
all them needs is:

Best
Brew
and Bikkies
Beer
and Baccy

Bleddy sortid!

“Beer and baccy
The Bobs am happy!”

Test Match at The Alotmints

Blowers: Oh my dear old things!
What an absolutelah splendid game of cricket we’ve gort here at The Allotments!
It’s Bob jogging in from the Shed End, with one gawping slip, a prone point, a rather squat square-leg, and a very silly third man, all aslouch, waiting in position.
And Bob the batter, is batting it back to Bob the bowler. A jolly good defensive push with a bat perfectlah plush to the perpendicular don’t you think Tuffers?
Tuffers: Too right Blowers. Mind you that waz a good joggin lobbin lenf from old Bob.
Blowers: And here comes dear old Thing again, lobs a sinister spinning googly onto the other Old Things leg stump, and, My Lord!, the ball – or is it a pork pie!? – has been given the proverbial agricultural mo to cow corner! Six magnificent runs!
Tuffers: Wot a fump from the Uncle! He gave that the full welly! Wotcha Sunny Jim – I mean, Bob!
Blowers: He did indeed! It’s just clattered the rathah tall fellow holding the drinks on the boundary edge – he’s taken the ball full in the goolagongs!
Tuffers: I fink that’s sum fella cum in fancy undress pretendin to be an inflatable Penis! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Blowers: Oh My Goodness Gracious! What an absolutelah awfullah dreadful thing to happen to The Poor Thing. I do believe he’s been knocked unconshers!
Tuffers: Wotcha me old cock! Ee got no protection Blowers. Totally in the buff, bruised up an swollen sumfink rotten!
Blowers: Goodness Me! What a sight for my sore old eyes! He will have to be stretchered orf to The Pavilion pronters.
Tuffers: Yep – and given sum mouf to mouf resuss by one of them Red Cross ladies wiv the sticky red lips Blowers!
Blowers: You mean given the Kiss of Life on his bruised and swollen member?!
Tuffers: Yeah, Fink E’es gunna need a bit of reinflating that geezer for sure! Strewf!!
Blowers: Well I never! Anyway, kercockyfuffle over, its back once again to the absorbinglah stupendous action out in the middle, with Bob the bowler bowling to Bob the batter.
And Uncle B has slung it teasingly up in the air, Bob attempts another Almightah Heave to cow corner, and the ball – or is it a pork pie?! – rolls between his legs, slides under his stick of rhubarb, and bowls him comprehensivelah middle wicket!
Tuffers: That was a peach that ball, pitched in the ruff, turned like a jaffa, and flicked Bobs bails clean off – luvlee jubbly! Get in!
Blowers: Well, that’s the one Bob uncling the other Bobs uncles all right!
Tuffers: Dun like a kipper Blowers!
Blowers: Absolutelah Tuffers! Totallah splatters!!