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111. Saddam’s Bunker

Posted on: June 20th, 2010 by Colonel Crabtree-Smythe No Comments

NSaddam's weapon of mass destructionow we move on to another aspect of Sage’s inability to understand just quite who I am. I feel he is in denial with regard my prowess as a legitimate peacemaker. Like I have said before I am the British equivalent of Jack Bauer difference is I am real, and I still pack a punch even now. Sage doesn’t believe in my MI6 connections so I pose the question -If I did not work for MI6, what was I doing meeting with Saddam Hussein in Iraq?” I would like to add that it was not my fault that the ‘powers that be’ misread my report on the contents of Saddam’s military bunker. I had been doing a lot of covert investigations; yes top secret searchings to say the least. I also knew that Saddam’s big red rocket from Harrods was a powerful showstopper and a perfect firework to end a barbeque to celebrate the end of Ramadan for the Bath party. However, I have to say, in no way could the firework destroy Israel and was in no way a threat to the United Kingdom or the USA… like I say – it was a monster fucking firework no more no less.

As you are aware people, I am not a fan of the firework display – but you can’t justify invading a country and toppling a regime under the threat of a firework display. What I’m trying to say is this – if I lit the blue touch paper of Saddam’s big red one in my garden in Hampstead Garden Suburb I doubt that it would even reach Stamford Hill!

I personally feel that Blair and his cronies wanted to believe the worst of Saddam and as per usual didn’t read the small print. Don’t get me wrong people, I am perfectly aware that Saddam was a naughty boy and needed a good olde spanking but all I needed was the word and I was in a position to take him out with one Karate chop to the back of the neck, but no, was I given the order? Not a bit of it, so I don’t want to hear a word of it. Truth is people, I saved two virgins from Saddam’s evil clutches. I ask you Sage – why do you always think the worst of me? I sent them home to their families with a tin of condensed milk a packet of bacon and (my favorite) a tin of Bully beef that I had left over from the trenches in the First World War… a little more than a darnn packet of eggs that you sent to Haiti dare I add. I have to say it all still tastes a treat after all these years and I gave them the recipe for lovely corned beef hash with bacon.

Now, getting back to Sage and his brutish hardcore personality… In most cases I have to add this nasty side of his is hidden behind his smiley-mouthed ‘yes man’ façade. The point is – I feel that Sage’s smiley-mouthed façade is what ingratiated him with Sting and helped him get on to one of the Geordie singers notorious hunting party’s.
Sting is a vicious man at heart, of this I have no doubt. I have proof; yes film footage… of him killing natives in the rain forests of South America for pleasure and sport. The Police bass player captures them by scooping them up into a fishing net that he baits with small traces of muesli and rabbit meat and then the vile man offers them a tin of beans and a Pepsi drink. Finally he arms them with a shield while giving the poor bastards a ten minute start. It is then that he and his entourage chase and hunt those little men down, with shotguns and poison darts with a blow pipe.
Truth is ladies and gentlemen – our man Sage has the blood lust and don’t let him fool you otherwise. I am convinced so much so that I believe if dear Adolph Hitler had been reincarnated into our World again, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be Sage or indeed Sting himself.

Yes the man Macorkadale is a monster and in the right circumstance capable of genocide… he has deep seated fantasies of world domination, it’s enough to turn the stomach. Proof of this is when I told him about Lawrence of Arabia being buggered by a Turkish chap, and how I had gently applied witch hazel to the affected part – the bottom end of dear Lawrence, and how he had winced in agony, and then how I had lovingly put soothing Sudacrem onto the broken flesh. Sage laughed like a drain at the thought of our desert hero in pain while adding that “Lawrence had felt guilty because he had enjoyed that particular slice of Turkish delight.” Sage said – that the reason Lawrence killed himself at the age of 46… a few weeks after leaving the service was that he could no longer bare the stigma of being a fruit and had fatally injured himself in a motorbike accident. Truth is there had been a dip in the road that had obstructed his view of two boys on their bicycles coming his way; he swerved to avoid them, lost control and was thrown over the handlebars of his motorcycle. He died six days later. I mean to say, to suggest that he did this on purpose is an outrageous suggestion and any man who says these words should be flogged.

Sage you should stop look and listen, as the chap from the green cross code advertisement suggests, because “oh how the mighty do fall” and you are going to fall Sage I have no doubt of that. It is the worst stuff and nonsense that I have heard in decades of stuff and nonsense. And I ask you Sage – “why this down on Lawrence?” I know the whole episode upset Fay Featherlite and he had to take to his bed. I know he has a picture of Lawrence above his head board… in it our hero is wearing a flowing robe and an Arab head dress.

Now forgetting this nonsense and foolishness there was something else Sage said recently that I felt was in extremely bad taste. He said that he felt without doubt “God hates fags.” I seem to remember hearing this from an American evangelical preacher.

I ask the question – why oh why did you say Sage that the preacher had a point? I mean really… do you believe this? When all is said and done you should talk to Eton John in this regard for I know he has an opposite view.
Our Elton takes the view that god loves fags. Elton says that he believes that our beloved savior Jesus of Nazareth was a limp wrister. Controversial one might say but they were his words not mine.

So I asked the overweight boy racer how he knew this. Elton answered simply that he was sure that John the Baptist and our Lord had something going on what with all that dunking about in the Red Sea. I personally don’t believe it for one moment. The thought of the beloved one saying, “whoops,” to John the Baptist whilst telling him to “speak for himself!” It is unthinkable. So I would like you to take your distorted viewpoints and shove them where the sun don’t shine and then it would be “whoops” to you Sage.

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