Dennis said...Ivan, Bhownaggree did indeed say "Buy darlings...."
He may choose to pay for the services of prostitutes; not everyone is reduced to those straits.
I for example have just received an unexpected response from my object of devotion, who tells me my worship from afar may soon be rewarded!
Hazel, my sweet! Will paradise on Earth soon be mine?
P.S., to the ungallant. I will kill any man who ever again likens her to a chipmunk.-
- Anonymous said...
Dennis, paying for sex is infinitely better than obtaining sex under false pretences. Fair exchange is no robbery....
And if the woman looked like a chipmunk I might shag her myself. Sadly she doesn't even rate "mammalian".- Dennis said...
Anon. 5:11, you are dicing with danger!
-
- stanislav, a breeder of dwarves for the connoisseur said...
This is fighting talk, there are six other dwarves with a prior claim on Hazel's charms. I know hunchbacks can be spiteful but you has no fucking chance against six angry midgets
- Anonymous said...
If Stanislav's six dwarfs are in fact Beachcomber's famous six red-bearded dwarfs, then indeed you have no chance - the hair match alone is unbeatable.
- Dennis said...
"If Stanislav's six dwarfs are in fact Beachcomber's famous six red-bearded dwarfs, then indeed you have no chance - the hair match alone is unbeatable."
1. They have no head for heights.
2. They are unmusical.
3. They cannot take a flogging in the cathedral close without a whimper.
4. They cannot converse in grunts.
5. They cannot overact.
I rest my case. It's irrelevant, anyway, as since my last note Hazel has visited me in person and touched me with her stardust.
I am in love.-
- stanislav said...
Dennis
Would hate to see you hurt, wandering around upset like Phantom Fucker from Opera but dwarves is infamouly fickle and vicious little animals. Hazel will only use you until a better looking hunchback happens along. Not that I suppose that happens very often. Still, love is blind and, in your case, hideously malformed.
Does the local vicar let you in for Midnight Mass, or are you barred for fear that you'll frighten the ghastly little fuckers, come to Church once a year with their pissed-up parents in order to blackmail the Saviour, Himself, for a new iPhone, before knifing some poor, old granny to death on the way home, Oh, and not forget jumpimg up and down on her fucking head.
Good job Mr Balls is now in charge of horrid little bastards, eh.- Dennis said...
Stanislav
Nothing can now take away my night of bliss! Your cynicism is misplaced, for we have been making excited plans for the future ... I am apparently to be made into something called a "quangocrat" (not sure what that means, but my angel assures me we shall never want) and will rub shoulders with the great and good, including Lord Putty the famous media person, Sir Richard Branstrom the bearded policemen, Lady Margaret Podge the tireless libertarian and campaigner for children's rights, and the exquisite Ms Suzy Heffer, chairperson of the Lesbian Insemination Board and a regular columnist on the Daily Telegrope.
Of course, even though I have been so swiftly exalted, I shall not forget my old friends, and shall report back here with tidings of my new and exciting life.
But all this is venal and irrelevant. What matters is love, the merging of two human souls with the starry infinite!
Hark! I hear my Hazel calling! I must away! Adieu ...-
- stanislav ,a former dwarf breeder said...
Dennis mon ami,
Is rather extravagant use of term "human" innit, you and Hazel Blears the Zombie Dwarf; best not celebrate with foreign honeymoon, wind up in separate cage in quarantine for six month along with dog and rabbit and fucking hampster. Some places not let you in at all, has Zero Monster policy. Big sign at airport. Warning. No Monster, No Dwarf. No Scotch Cunt.
Stanislav, anyway, give up on dwarf breedings business and concentrate on plumbing. Release em all back in wild, with badger and fox and weasel, maybe keep one to go in cramped space under sink. Fucking little bastards bite and shit everywhere, put in nice warm cages in garage, feed Pedigree Chum and not appreciate. Dwarf is not ideal pet, never mind wife, Dennis. Is such savage nasty bastard is only fit for politics.Hazel Blears will break your heart. Best find one of your own kind, stick to your own kind- Dennis said...
Stanislav
Were it not that you and I go back a long way, I would take grave exception to some of the terms in your last message. You cannot help being foreign; and one must assume that alcohol remains in your bloodstream from Friday night.
My beloved never eats Pedigree Chum. Only the finest will do for her, and I am not talking about Tesco's silver-packed range.
Lunch today was at the Ivy. We were guests of Mr J. Gasper, an adviser on matters tinted to Mr K. Ipresume, Lord Mayor of this fair city. Besides Mr Gasper at the table were sundry coloured gentlemen wearing much gold jewellery and expensive suits. Their manners were not entirely to my taste, nor was the disturbance when one of them, peeved by what he perceived as slow service, produced a pistol and fired three shots at the sommelier. When I made as if to protest, Hazel kicked my ankle under the table and from the side of her charming mouth hissed the magic word "racissst". Instead I asked the coloured gentlemen how things were going in their community, and they gave me affirmative replies, not all of which I think I fully understood.
You must understand that above all it is Hazel's mind that inflames me. Her logic is forensic; her knowledge encyclopaedic; her wisdom surpasseth the poor understanding of lesser mortals like us and qualifies her absolutely as a first-rate minister of the Crown. With what subtlety and care for the future does my darling wield her statecraft! O that she were more widely recognized and acclaimed! Alas, it is the fate of the self-sacrificing never to be understood and always to be cast in shade by an uncaring and ungrateful populace.
The blood coursing in my crooked veins would not be red if I did not confess the overpowering animal magnetism she exerts upon every fibre of my being. To divulge particulars of our congress would be ungentlemanly, but I cannot imagine there is a fellow in all Britain who does not envy me her charms.
Even now she protests that I linger too long at the keyboard and is calling me back to the connubial embrace. Be happy for me, Stanislav; you know how Esmeralda wounded my heart. I thought it could never mend ... but I was wrong!- 45govt said...
Dennis, I'm sure your coloured luncheon companions were merely desirous of receiving the right amount of respec', and if the sommelier had not conveyed that he may have been expected to come under fire. Fortunately for him and the rest of us, the accepted manner of discharge by coloured pistoleros burdened by gold chains and trousers round their knees, is by holding the weapon on its side. This rarely proves effiacious.
I trust your wine delivery was uninterrupted.
My best to the minging ginger midget.- 12:05 AM, December 16, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
stanislav, a breeder of dwarves for the connoisseur said...
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If Guido holds next years bash at Mahaffey's I will buy him a drink.
Went to London once, no thanks mate!
Am waiting on Stanislav's big bash New Year's Eve in picturesque Wloclawek. Do widzenia, do zobaczenia
2:00 PM, December 14, 2007
robbierotten
Stanislav love it when you talk dirty. Happy Chrismas to you, too. Even though is some way off and might all yet be killed or throw in fucking jail by EU cop forc, for thinking out of prescribed limits. Go in Dublin once. Is great, especially bullet hole in post office.
2:55 PM, December 14, 2007