10 Things That Are a Dead Giveaway You're Scottish

Tale of Tails....Holy Crap on a Cracker!

The bloke born with a tail!

Oram has refused any operation to remove his tail and because of it he is an object of devotion to many, who believe him to be an incarnation of Hanuman.

Having a human tail might have brought Oram thousands of devotes but it hasn’t helped him in one area – the desire to get married and become a father and have children. ”Almost 20 women have turned down marriage proposals. They see me and agree to a match. But as soon as I turn around, they see my tail and leave. But I have decided I will marry the woman who accepts me and my tail. Or else, I’ll remain a bachelor like Hanuman,” he said.

And YOU thought I was fucking daft?!?




You think that's fucking weird?  This cracker is a repulsive gag fest.

This bloke, Sanju Bhagat’s had felt self-conscious his whole life about his big belly. His stomach was once so swollen he looked nine months pregnant and could barely breathe.

But one night in June 1999, living in the city of Nagpur, India, Bhagat’s problem erupted into something much larger than cosmetic worry. An ambulance rushed the 36-year-old farmer to the hospital. Doctors thought he might have a giant tumor, so they decided to operate and remove the source of the bulge in his belly.  Mehta said that he can usually spot a tumor just after he begins an operation. But while operating on Bhagat, Mehta saw something he had never encountered. As he cut deeper into Bhagat’s stomach, gallons of fluid spilled out - and then something extraordinary happened. “First, one limb came out, then another limb came out. Then some part of genitalia, then some part of hair, some limbs, jaws, limbs, hair.”

At first glance, it may look as if Bhagat had given birth.

Actually, Mehta had removed the mutated body of Bhagat’s twin brother from his stomach.

Get yer brown paper bag and all together now.... BARF!

Easily Offended? Fuck Off!

Q: Which sexual position produces the ugliest children?
A: Ask your mother...!!

Q: How do you embarrass an archaeologist?
A: Give him a used tampon and ask him which period it came from.

Q: What did the cannibal do after he dumped his girlfriend?
A: Wiped his ass.

Q: How can you tell if your wife is dead?
A: The sex is the same but the dishes pile up.

Q: What do the Gynecologist and the pizza delivery man have in common?
A: They both get to smell the goods but neither one of them can eat it.

Q: How can you tell if you're at a bulimic bachelor party?
A: The cake jumps out of the girl.

Q: What do you call a prostitute with a runny nose?
A: Full.

Q: What's the difference between oral sex & anal sex?
A: Oral sex makes your day, anal sex makes your hole weak.

Q: How is pubic hair like parsley?
A: You push it to the side before you start eating.

Q: What is blonde, has six legs, and roams Michael Jackson's dreams
every night??
A: Hanson.

Q: If your wife keeps coming out of the kitchen to nag at you, what have
you done wrong?
A: Made her chain too long.

Q: What's somewhat brown and often found in children's underpants?
A: Michael Jackson's hand.

Q: How are tornadoes and marriage alike?
A: They both begin with a lot of sucking and blowing, and in the end you
lose your house.

Q: Why doesn't Mexico have an Olympic team?
A: Because everybody who can run, jump and swim are already in the U.S.

Q: What's the difference between a bitch and a whore?
A: A whore sleeps with everybody at the party, and a bitch sleeps with everybody
at the party except you.

Q: What's the difference between love, true love and showing off?
A: Spitting, swallowing and gargling

Q: What are three words you dread the most while making love?
A: "Honey, I'm home."

Q: What's so good about an Ethiopian blow job?
A: You just KNOW she'll swallow.

Q: Why don't they teach driver's education and sex education on the same
day in Iraq?
A: They don't want to wear out the camel.

Q: What's the difference between a Catholic wife and a Jewish wife?
A: A Catholic wife has real orgasms and fake jewelery.

Q: Do you know why women fake orgasm?
A: Because men fake foreplay.

Q: What's the difference between getting a divorce and getting
circumcised?
A: When you get a divorce, you get rid of the whole prick!

Q: A woman of 35 thinks of having children. What does a man of 35 think of?
A: Dating children.

Q: What's the difference between a G-Spot and a golf ball?
A: A guy will actually search for a golf ball.

Q: Why does a bride smile when she walks up the aisle?
A: She knows she's given her last blow job.

Q: What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball?
A: Cough, gag, choke, etc.

Q: What did One gay sperm say to another?
A: How do we find an egg in all of this shit?

Q: What did the elephant say to the naked man?
A: It's cute but can you pick up peanuts with it?

Q. How many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A. Two. The hard part is getting them in the light bulb.

Q. How do you find a blonde in long grass?
A. Pleasing

Q. What has seventy-five balls and screws old ladies?
A. Bingo!

Q. How do the little boys at Michael Jackson's ranch know when it is
bedtime?
A. When the big hand touches the little hand...

Q: When is a pixie not a pixie?
A: When he's got his head up a fairy's skirt, then he's a goblin'.

Q. What's the definition of a Yankee?
A. Same thing as a "quickie", only you do it yourself.

Q: How does every ethnic joke start?
A: By looking over your shoulder.

Q: What's a Japanese girl's favourite holiday?
A: Erection day.

Q: How can you tell if a valentine card is from a leper?
A: The tongue's still in the envelope.

Q: Which of the following doesn't belong: wife, meat, eggs, blow job?
A: The blow job. You can beat your wife, your eggs, or your meat; but
you just can't beat a blow job.

Q: What is the definition of Confidence?
A: When your wife catches you in bed with another woman and you slap her
on the ass and say, "You're next Baby... !"

Q: What's the difference between a blonde and an ironing board A: It's
difficult to open the legs of an ironing board.

Q: What's pink and hard?
A: A pig with a flick knife.

Q: Why do blondes have more fun?
A: They are easier to keep amused.

Q: Why do seagulls have wings?
A: To beat the gypsies to the tip.

Q: Why did god invent alcohol?
A: So fat women can get laid too.

Q. How do you get three little old ladies to say the "F" word?
A. Have a fourth one yell "Bingo!"

Q: What do you get if you cross a pit bull with a hooker?
A: Your last blow job.

Q: Why did god create women?
A: Because dogs can't get beer out the fridge.

Q: What's 100 yards long and smells of piss?
A: The Post Office queue on Thursday mornings.

Q: What's the difference between a woman from Wigan and a walrus?
A: One's got a moustache and smells of fish and the other lives in the
sea.

Q: How many social workers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None, but it takes 15 to write a paper entitled "coping with
darkness"

Q: Why don't blind people skydive?
A: It scares the shit out of the dog.

Q: What have women and condoms got in common?
A: If they're not on your dick they're in your wallet.

Q: What's the difference between PMT and BSE?
A: One's mad cow's disease and the other's an agricultural problem.

Q: Why was the washing machine laughing?
A: Because it was taking the piss out of the undies.

Q: What will Postman Pat be called when he retires?
A: Pat

Q: What's the difference between a dead dog in the road and a dead
Lawyer in the road?
A: There are skid marks in front of the dog.

Q: What's got four legs, and goes "Woof"?
A: Piper Alpha.

Q: How do you make a dog drink?
A: Put it in a liquidizer.

Q: What's got 500 legs and no pubic hair?
A: The front row at a Boyzone concert.

Q: What's got four legs and an arm?
A: A Rottweiler.

Q: What's got two legs and bleeds?
A: Half a dog..

Q: What do you do if your boiler explodes?
A: Buy her some flowers.

Q: What is the definition of confusion?
A: Twenty blind lesbians in a fish market.

Q. What do you call a man who expects to have sex on the second date?
A: Patient..!!

Swagalicous

Hey Plonkers, I've had such a hectic week organising the finer details for my birthday party thats happening this weekend.  It's gonna be fuckin LEGEN....wait for it.....DARY!  

So many things to to finalise.

I've been stressing trying to locate my parcel that my friend, Xmas Dolly sent from the states (you're a star).  It was sent over a month ago with my costume for the party and a few other bibs and bobs, and it's been sitting at South African customs since the 4th of June. 

Luckily, my BIL (Brother In Law) works at the airport and went to see if he could locate it for me.  Guess what?  He found it!  What a hero! After four days on the phone with the SAPO (useless MuthaFuckers - and I will say that on record).  You have no idea how many bloody phone calls I've made, how many minutes I've been on hold, how many times I've been cut off and shunted around.  I know the hold message off by fucking heart!  I must've spoken to at least a dozen people and not one ARSEHOLE could help me!!! 

Anyhoo, my parcel only arrived in my grubby paws today!  My Boerewors went to collect it from my BIL and bring it to work.  Three days before the party. 

So, turns out, that I had to run around sourcing other costume alternatives because, after all that, my outfit didn't fit.  How pissed off and disappointed was I?  Lets not even go there. 

I was pretty fucking bummed after I'd spent a damn fortune on it and another small fortune on postage and literally four days with the telephone glued to my now-cauliflower ear trying to locate the damn fucking parcel.

Poison Ivy was NOT meant to be.

Switch to Plan B

Amongst all that, I have one of my colleages off sick and in hospital with pneumonia.  It has put a lot of pressure on me. We have had two deadlines to make this week;   our Johannesburg publication and our Vaal publication.   Each publication has been pretty challenging to fill, and having to deal with all my colleague's clients in her absence, finalising orders, artwork and payments hasn't left any time for anything else.

So, bottom line, I'm sorry I haven't blogged anything of significance this week.  Nothing worth shite actually....

However...

I'm really super stoked to letting my hair down at my 40th birthday bash on Saturday night.  Having 50 of my friends and family to hang out with and dance the night away with.  Yeeeeeehawwww!

I have taken Friday off to prepare the venue with all the decor and decorations.  Lots to organise!  Fog machine, laser lights, jukebox, finish making centrepieces, assemble telephone booth, back drops, table cloths, overlays, food, make the punch, collect the cake, fetch the balloons and glue masks to the balloons, dye hair, have make up done, help with the kids costumes and face paint, the list seems endless.

So, another cop-out post today, I'm afraid.  At least these will make you laugh.


They certainly cheered me up today.

and my personal favourite....

If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I'd fart

Whether you're teeming with frustration, overwhelmed with envy, or just plain in the mood, there are unlimited reasons to blast off an insult.  From fuck words to long-winded dialogues, back-handed compliments to in-yer-face jeers, sometimes you've gotta say what's really on yer mind.

The personal benefits of releasing such negative energy far outweigh someone else's hurt feelings, especially if they're a raging Plonker!

You'll feel empowered, in control, and generally truck loads better about yerself by taking down those doochebags around you.  In today's world, niceness is completely overrated.

Philosophers understand that the pleasure of a skillfully delivered insult, and the frequently ensuing amusement, comes from the enjoyment of contrasting our own superiority with the foibles of others.

Often we're in a situation where the moment presents itself to deliver the perfect cracker of a doozy but we're at a loss for what to say and what to insult.  Only afterwards do we think of what we should have said.  When this happens just remember The theory of relativity. 

Relatively speaking, someone is always fatter or skinnier, older or younger - even if only by a few ounces or days.  If they're dumber than a doorknob, pick on their intelligence (this is a personal favourite of mine).  If they're smarter, mock their arrogance.  If they're mean, impugn their character.  If, on the other hand, you find yourself at the  receiving end of a disparaging remark, you'll need a witty comeback. 

It's the survival of the fittest and morons lurk everywhere. 

Despite the age-old saying that "words will never hurt me" but we all know that a biting comment can be a devastatingly effective slap in the face. 

It's not easy being fucking mean but it sure is fun!

Why are all the skinny, attractive girls Bitches?

So, Plonkers if you’re skinny and hot and don’t think you’re a Bitch, then you probably are! 

Offended?  Well, sorry but in most of my experiences slim, pretty girls know they are attractive and they fucking milk it. They milk it to the point of being a complete and utter narcissistic Bitch (but don't have the balls to be open about it) 

The Pretty Girl always seems to get away with murder and continuously gets the best seat on the bus.  

The Pretty Skinny Girl get drinks bought for them at bars – all night by strangers - creepy boys that are too scared to approach them and admire from afar.

The Pretty Girl bats her eyelashes, flashes as coy smile and catches almost any guy to do practically anything for her.

The Pretty Girl always laughs at your jokes no matter how pathetic, not because she wants to impress you, but because she doesn’t want to admit that she doesn’t “get it”.

The Pretty Skinny Girls don't have to try too hard, she doesn’t have to strike up intelligent conversation and sustain it for more than a simple rehearsed one-liner that her asshole-of-a-brother has drummed into her since she grew titties. 

The Pretty Skinny Girl doesn’t have to try too hard to get a bloke to be interested in her. The blokes she attracts already have her perched so high on a pedestal because of her looks.  The only Plonkers brave enough to come over are the arrogant assholes.

How BANGIN would it be to convince The Pretty Skinny Girls that slapping each other’s faces is the new high-five?

The Pretty Girl expects expensive presents and in turn they treat their men like dog shite. The poor bastards only stick around because she looks good on his arm at parties.  Doesn't everyone  stop to stare when the hot, handsome couple enter a room?

The Pretty Skinny Girl smiles sweetly to your face and the second you turn your back, she is rolling her eyes and pulling up her lip into a conceited sneer. Perhaps she thinks that bringing other people down will keep her on top?

The Pretty Skinny Girl thinks she’s all that and a bag 'o chips, but its only 50% of what she’s got and 50% what people think she’s got.

The Pretty Girl surrounds herself with girlfriends that aren't quite so attractive as she is, so she’ll always get first choice when it comes to pretty much anything.

The Pretty Skinny Girls are like the blind leading the blind. They have this unwavering admiration of their own beauty. They taken endless selfies, stare at photographs of themselves and kiss the glossy paper with their glittered pink lip gloss and display it on their photo pin board and draw a heart around it.

The Pretty Girl will steal your shine on your wedding day and ask the photographer for copies of her photos, because she reckons she looks cuter than the bride. She probably does - but, hello! It’s not your fucking day, Bitch!

The Pretty Skinny Girl says “I’m not a snob, ask anyone! Well, anyone who matters”.

The Pretty Girl likes to talk about herself constantly when on a date but not as much as she likes to talk about the inadequacies of others. Sad thing is, men pretend to listen but all they hear is "Oh Em Gee, blah blah blah blah blah", and are thinking, I wonder if she’ll put out after three drinks - or should I push it to four?  Four will guarantee me some leg-over for sure!

Och well....as my dad always says: "It's nice to be nice".  

But I prefer my motto, which is;  screw the shallow pretty, skinny chicks, deep down they’re all riddled with insecurities.

Chubby is the new Skinny, right?

A Daft Scots Lass and her Big Sista

*Warning Offensive* Shite Below

The Foschini Group has withdrawn three T-shirts from their stores with immediate effect, the Cape Times reported on Wednesday.

The withdrawal comes after a petition by local feminist organisation, FeministsSA, because the t-shirts were deemed sexist.

Shocking styles and slogans.

The T-shirts, all for men, featured slogans such as 

“You looked better from behind”; 

“S: Stay I: Intoxicated N: Nightly G: Get L: Laid E: Every day”

and 

“I put the STD in STUD, all I need is U”. 

Available at Markhams and Sports Scene stores, the T-shirts were meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but had caused offence to some customers.

Designer defends t-shirts.

Harry Fokker (I shite you not!) the designer of the t-shirts, explained that the purpose of these T-shirts was “satirical” and that they were “meant to be humorous, to use controversy”. 

Fokker was also quoted as saying that Markham’s withdrawal of the t-shirts was an “unfortunate outcome”.

In their petition to the Foschini Group, FeministsSA took a firm stand on the views expressed by Fokker

“Fokker’s use of images and slogans that are explicitly misogynistic on Markham t-shirts is neither humorous nor satirical. In the South African context in which rates of violence against women are among the world’s highest. His T-shirts display, at best, foolish naïvete, at worst, casual bigotry,” they stated.

Social networking storm

Using social networking sites, Twitter and Facebook, FeministsSA asked its followers to boycott all Foschini stores until all the offensive sweaters had been removed. The request, along with the petition included on thepetitionsite.com, caused an uproar which ultimately prompted the Group to remove the T-shirts.

Crossing the line

The Foschini Group’s communications manager Kathryn Sakalis said “We have hundreds of Ts with different slogans. Those withdrawn are three we felt crossed the line between humorous and offensive," she said. 

Offensive?  They should read some of my fucking t-shirts!

My favourite at the moment?

"Some say I have a bad attitude.  I say FUCK 'EM!"  

That one is dedicated to Harry Fokker!

Put THAT in yer pipe and smoke it, Foschini.  Its called Satire and its fucking funny!!

The Hardest Button To Button

Pick one and move along swiftly, Fuckers!