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101. A Date with Sting, Trudie and Gary

Posted on: January 17th, 2010 by Colonel Crabtree-Smythe No Comments

Remember Gary Linekar cartoonwhat I have always said; ‘time and place is everything. Yes, time and place is king’. And indeed it is when I think of the abuse of the quiet man that is our national hero Gary Lineker. if someone came up to you and said that they had a nail file stuck in their crown and a stabbing pain in the head, would you laugh at the file’s presence? No you wouldn’t laugh; No… You would not mock. Yes – you would call 999 and wait for assistance from the ever abundant Nigerian nurses. However, when Sage heard me talk of such goings on to Alvin Lindwall he laughed and said that he’d like to stick a nail file in Lindwall’s eye… How awful is that? Like I say; I feel Sage has been spending too much time with Ronnie Kray… I say its not funny. I mean; if it was I, I would be tempted to say that a joke is a joke and let sleeping dogs lie, but Sage had full knowledge of the operation that was set up by our esteemed friend Otis Van Strapon, yes! Now people, you may say that this is all a bit disjointed but I draw a parallel here to make a point. Sage knew of Gary’s affliction and just like the nail file in the head analogy he laughed at the thought of Gary’s unenviable situation…Yes Sage knew that Gary had a blue salt and shake wrapper on his brain and that the blue salt wrapping was to be removed from its resting place by Otis Van Strapon, a big day for Gary and his wonderful wife whose name escapes me for the moment… But to make jokes at such a stress-filled time is a travesty.

Sage had the full picture told in graphic terms by Doctor Leg…Yes Sage knew that removing the said item from his brain could give Gary back his temper and leave him unbalanced like he was Boris Johnston on his bike or Paul Gascoigne in a pub at closing time… Yes, Sage knew of all the worry the situation was giving Gary’s friends and family, and Alan Hansen the man from Scotland. Sage knew that Garry’s friends Bert and Fred (the wonderful Chelsea Pensioners) were worried because their friend Peter Sutcliffe had-had a similar operation to remove a salt bag from his brain and look what happened to him… He turned into a hammer wielding maniac when his salt bag burst on the operating table and sprayed his brain with out of date salt remnants.

Sage knew all this and still thought to make a joke at Gary’s expense… saying he was a dullard before the operation and would be afterwards and what sort of man sticks a blue salt bag up his nose? Shame on you Sage! Gary was a child when the impediment was lodged accidentally into the brain of the fine Leicester man and striker and finally let me say… yes let me add… If Gary does start killing prostitutes after the operation by Otis van Strapon I hope Sage won’t be laughing at that! The tasteless swine that Sage is…

I mustSting cartoon move on for the anger I feel is second to that of Bruce Banner with the hump and I have to say it is all very well for Sage to take the view that because I went to Trudie and Sting’s party that I deserved all that I got in terms of the filth, horror and violations that were on show.
How would you like it Sage? If an erect tantric mad person wrestled you to the floor, and that he was oiled to the cuff as well, yes! You have guessed it… He held me down… Sting raped me, I said ‘No Sting… no-no.’ He said ‘Yes Colonel yes-yes!’ and gave me his own personal service like I was a small boy and he was a Catholic priest… He held me in a vice like grip for three fucking hours! I was red raw – my ass looked like a baboon on heat when he’d finished with me.

All this is Sacrilegious in its essence you may say, but I suppose that is the point… Is that how you think an old man deserves to be treated eh Sage? Is that the sort of man that you are? That you condone such gross tantric action by an ex-member of the Police? All that stopping and starting holding in, letting it out… The man from Newcastle is a monster – like he was the Hampton Court fetisher Henry the 8th with the horn… I mean, truth be told I thought that I had been invited to an intellectual gathering, a meeting of minds but I was the one gathered up and stung by Sting in the most hideous fashion… I was left on the carpet in undignified posture whilst Elton John fondled his penny whistle as he sang The Yellow Brick Road. However, this was not to be the final outrage for me that evening… No… that was when little Harvey Price Jordan’s fine boy was put in the centre of the gathering with one of Ronnie Kray’s double sided yellow dusters on his head, yes! The little one was ridiculed and laughed at by the cruel gathering, none worse than that awful Richard Curtis the so-called humanitarian that he so professes to be… but as we are aware he does airbrush all the black face’s out of his cinema features so how do you expect him to act with Harvey? ‘About a Boy’… I ask you? This was about a boy… a young chap ridiculed by high society. I was so glad that he was as deaf as a bat and as blind as a post. For this kind of behaviour could have scarred him for life, destroyed him mentally like having to live with Jordan. I am not surprised that Trudy Styler ran off and joined the Scottish curling team after that debauchery… shame on you Sage for thinking these people are special because they have the notoriety that money brings, the illusionary power that their so called status brings about. I mean; they think that they can get away with anything, even laughing at the most unfortunate off-spring of Jordan. If she knew how her representative had been treated by Sting and his entourage…Yes; poor Harvey – left in the middle of the room with a duster on his head and used as a table. Jordan would be livid and I’m sure she would send round that cage fighting ex-lover of hers. I’m sure he would do his cage fighting thing on Sting and then Sting would know about submissive play…

And finally…. After all this Sting had his private screening of ‘Schindlers List’ and ‘I Left My Heart At Wounded Knee’… Yes, all this whilst the gathering lay naked on the cinema floor prodding and fondling each other as if the holocaust had never happened… A gathering for humanitarian debate I ask you? It was no more than a masturbatory fest for shallow fuckerwits.

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