The Three-Word, Never-Ending Westfield Story

[jak]

debt from upgrades

[Liam]

in the underpant

[worzel]

JUST GROW UP    

[Mark B]

to be a...

[Frau Vesty]

Right you orrible lot, to help you improve your storytelling skills, here is a synopsis of your January 2005 story (Feb to follow shortly...)

[due to haemorrhoids] caused by eating prune flavoured artichokes (liquid pickfords) followed a trunk road whilst getting horribly somewhere in Kingswinford! House.  Where is Kingswinford next to your family friendly pub serves fresh food on dirty plates made from my next door neighbour’s toe nail clippings which resemble small deep fried rodents.  

Salt, vinegar sir?  Asked the one eyed green monster sitting on the deputy prime minister who was trying to type blindfolded whilst singing a ditty from Grease Ali G Stylee.  Grease lightning aye.  Wishing he was endowed with large jenvey throttle bodies and mega squirt.  So one jag owner who had the munchies after eating a Chinese soiled his pants sitting on his large red rear whilst reading the warning on his new carbon effect smoking jacket with fireproof outer lining with matching pink clogs and shawl.  

“Hello Sailor” said the welcoming senior.  An uncomfortable silence, they were both very, very drunk at the time.  One man said is that your smug purple ferret canoe or are you an alien hose beast with acne and flatulence with chip butty and geranium tendencies giving a blow by blow account of suspension setup using egg spaghetti and some sellotape.  Whilst smoking a large rolled towel filled with cheese and chilli peppers but secretly he liked Robin Hoods…you know the ones with solid cycle wings…and figured yellow was best but…that’s more than three words you plonker Mr Enterpryse***read the rules on page 1 – no more than 3 words and no consecutive posts – that’s cheatin You really are an sdv makin’ a balsa wood framed fire guard coated in dark grey hammerite with floral patterned tiles.  

Hello there boys, said the tall sexy female giraffe with long eyelashes later that day.  The bar opened and they had bubonic plague on had a few must be quicker in a Westfield with an old zetec under the influence of alcohol to drag race a kipper with no sunflower oil a pink mole with breast implants in carbon fibre help me Ronda somewhere in Kingswinford at the ranch there lurks a small western field of teeny weeny yam yam mechanics all saying “why did it break your heart to buy a x-flow”.  So much oil lovely shiney chassis, polished alloy wheels, so much power and a big dollop of torque but only if you spend all (of your hard earned cash on a good engine rebuild and can get the b******* started in the winter) your time in latex under garments and buy the optional rubber grommets for maximum pleasure but beware because men in tights (where’s this going?) take their meat to the butchers (this has definitely lost the plot – coxy it’s your fault) who keeps dripping under the dashboard to find the long lost sausage he had loved but cheated on but better to save the sausage with extra sauce please, kind sir is that the largest you have?

Oh no sir! Look at these, these are humungous.  what the devil said the butchers, better get a chunky knitted sweater made to measure.  Suits you sir! Said the tailor wearing his best frock.  “How big is your ankle after it was gnawed by a ravenous vegetarian Koala on Viagra looking like he has bitten off more large black Mercedes.  Three star badges.  Gosh!  Said the cabbage patch doll with rancid farts “I’ve followed through” I need new carbon brake pads to stop my unfeasibly large testicles over heating because there what I pulled from my radiator cooling fan designer’s jockey shorts and I’m very hot around the thermal jockstrap area said the bishop as he bent the new spanner novelty party balloons oops – too slow next Tuesday evening about 8 o’clock it’s the girls knurd em kcuf bless me ass father for I coveted by brother’s large spanner collection.

[Paul Hurdsfield - Joint Manchester AO]

Right you orrible lot, to help you improve your storytelling skills, here is a synopsis of your January 2005 story (Feb to follow shortly...)

[due to haemorrhoids] caused by eating prune flavoured artichokes (liquid pickfords) followed a trunk road whilst getting horribly somewhere in Kingswinford! House.  Where is Kingswinford next to your family friendly pub serves fresh food on dirty plates made from my next door neighbour’s toe nail clippings which resemble small deep fried rodents.  

Salt, vinegar sir?  Asked the one eyed green monster sitting on the deputy prime minister who was trying to type blindfolded whilst singing a ditty from Grease Ali G Stylee.  Grease lightning aye.  Wishing he was endowed with large jenvey throttle bodies and mega squirt.  So one jag owner who had the munchies after eating a Chinese soiled his pants sitting on his large red rear whilst reading the warning on his new carbon effect smoking jacket with fireproof outer lining with matching pink clogs and shawl.  

“Hello Sailor” said the welcoming senior.  An uncomfortable silence, they were both very, very drunk at the time.  One man said is that your smug purple ferret canoe or are you an alien hose beast with acne and flatulence with chip butty and geranium tendencies giving a blow by blow account of suspension setup using egg spaghetti and some sellotape.  Whilst smoking a large rolled towel filled with cheese and chilli peppers but secretly he liked Robin Hoods…you know the ones with solid cycle wings…and figured yellow was best but…that’s more than three words you plonker Mr Enterpryse***read the rules on page 1 – no more than 3 words and no consecutive posts – that’s cheatin You really are an sdv makin’ a balsa wood framed fire guard coated in dark grey hammerite with floral patterned tiles.  

Hello there boys, said the tall sexy female giraffe with long eyelashes later that day.  The bar opened and they had bubonic plague on had a few must be quicker in a Westfield with an old zetec under the influence of alcohol to drag race a kipper with no sunflower oil a pink mole with breast implants in carbon fibre help me Ronda somewhere in Kingswinford at the ranch there lurks a small western field of teeny weeny yam yam mechanics all saying “why did it break your heart to buy a x-flow”.  So much oil lovely shiney chassis, polished alloy wheels, so much power and a big dollop of torque but only if you spend all (of your hard earned cash on a good engine rebuild and can get the b******* started in the winter) your time in latex under garments and buy the optional rubber grommets for maximum pleasure but beware because men in tights (where’s this going?) take their meat to the butchers (this has definitely lost the plot – coxy it’s your fault) who keeps dripping under the dashboard to find the long lost sausage he had loved but cheated on but better to save the sausage with extra sauce please, kind sir is that the largest you have?

Oh no sir! Look at these, these are humungous.  what the devil said the butchers, better get a chunky knitted sweater made to measure.  Suits you sir! Said the tailor wearing his best frock.  “How big is your ankle after it was gnawed by a ravenous vegetarian Koala on Viagra looking like he has bitten off more large black Mercedes.  Three star badges.  Gosh!  Said the cabbage patch doll with rancid farts “I’ve followed through” I need new carbon brake pads to stop my unfeasibly large testicles over heating because there what I pulled from my radiator cooling fan designer’s jockey shorts and I’m very hot around the thermal jockstrap area said the bishop as he bent the new spanner novelty party balloons oops – too slow next Tuesday evening about 8 o’clock it’s the girls knurd em kcuf bless me ass father for I coveted by brother’s large spanner collection.

Good girl 10/10 for effort    

[Buzz Billsberry]

Thats more than 3 words Frau!

[Buzz Billsberry]

Where were we?....

[Frau Vesty]

The 2005 story so far, part 2:

But mostly I love my donkey to be sitting in a Robin Hood wearing green tights and feather boa  and on Wednesdays we all go to jumble sales except on Tuesdays when we don’t, because then we beat seven shades of off white sort of magnolia non drip gloss dulux autumn moods OH THOSE MOODS said the wife raising the kitchen doorknob into the mans goolees save goals by dangling frilly knickers about her torso.  Suddenly the knickers elastic went twang “OH NO” why does your chewing gum loose it’s flavour on the bedpost overnight?  Who sang that?  More than three, Lonnie Donegan did, see it three, so it is,

Holy smoke batman look it’s Blatman licking his XE because it tastes better than his candle stick holder didgery doo cobber what the hell did I say to that dozy looking thing over a pint of cranberry juice and cranberry juice and vodka that I aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrgh I want to really rant at this thread of chicken knickers but don’t want to be the one who kicks off and says for fecks sake talk in at least half coherent sentences.  You should all be ashamed of your elves [sic].  Have you no life *looks around* oh f**k I’m screwed.  Not by me…Are you sure??? I definitely woke up with some furry animal last Saturday morning and I remember some strange noises.  By some Rooster and a porcupine mmmmmmmmmmmm porcupine SPIKEYYYYYYYYY thaydonkeysanass isnit waddayathink this thread’s broke I’ll fix it, said Jim, nowthen, jingly jangly, jewellery Hanging between your rock and a wop woppa dooda said the loony driving the Caterham.

100 pages yet?  Might be now…900 to go centenary celebrations starting will you last think I will start another one said the pyromaniac to the insomniac early morning milkman milking the cow in a puddle.  Will Der Beast?  With a huge appetite for marshmallows on toasted teacakes with a cuppa one lump or two? No sugar thanks, semi skimmed or…no milk either just the water no with bag and no handle I can handle just the leaves despite the nipple on the trees the wind blow high the wind blow low ok but not high on something exotic like Bovril or chicken and leek soup this is krap ranted the old git in the A35 van with a pint upon the vinyl dashboard that’s now sticky what’s that rat on the dashboard it’s Roland rat said the wife with Durex for ears that’s not three more like four.

How many posts can pat deliver.  WELCOME BACK GUYS.  About time too let’s get this rolling along again as quickly as a turbo charged cat on rollerskates with his tail caught in the wheel of its trailer which was bursting into flames and the smoke burnt the nunney cat’s whiskers but it will be alright after a bucket of water is thrown over the fluffy feline goat skin jacket it certainly avoids itchy dangling haemorrhoids banging each side of your kneecaps every Tuesday evening whilst sitting here picking zits from his hairy A*** with a pair of mole grips whilst contemplating going to the pub for a swift bottle of headbanger and packet of extra lubricated ribbed crinkle cut crisps strawberry cream flavoured b*******, too late, as the actress wanted it badly so the bishop gave her a helping hand with her enormous vibrating badly burnt nunney which was rude but VERY nice and she groaned oh not again she screamed loudly cough – fur balls need another drink of continuity please otherwise there won’t be the time for the hot steamy bath in early March, especially when the kippers are ripe and no red lumps are present in the school custard.

But moving on and up’ards towards the northern hemisphere where sheep worriers green welly boots worn by judge in BMW X5’s on his way to a place in deepest, darkest Dudley High Street, where the man wore clogs and carried canvas bags full of severed Westfield cycle wings for making into robin hoods..OH.  Eat my chocolate in a seductive snow white coat slightly splattered with Fresh Fish Fingers “wait a minute” said the fish who’s a tw*t for ruining my plaice you great big wet cod now I’ll have a pickled egg sarnie instead, with lots of hot…Westfield fridge magnets.  Add a splash of Tabasco sauce and ear wax and wash down with Isopropyl alcohol and pocheen, which has a distinct smell of those silly round Spanish items and after, you throw up twice on your wife…and she gets but don’t spill the beans on Buzz’s huge thing which is a debt from upgrades in the underpant JUST GROW UP to be a.............................

Perhaps we should threaten to fill a page in the magazine up with this stuff if people don't send articles in  

[jak]

a racing driver

[jak]

in the speedseries

[jak]

in a Westfield

[Mark B]

racing along the

     

[worzel]

A40 to Cheltenham

[Mark B]

to pick up...