2 posts tagged “alternative history”

…it ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it,

it ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it,

That’s what gets results!!!

I beg to differ!

I reckon this song could be misconstrued, by loonies, as suggesting that you should become the angel of death and kill all your family and friends, but just so long as you do it in the right way!

History proves this song to be the mindless babbling of an elderly crackwhore. Just look at my one example from the entirety of history that proves it!!

Nelson Mandela.

What did he do? – Abolish Apartheid and free the black citizens of South Africa and the world.

How did he do it? – He commanded what would now be called a ‘terrorist cell’, carrying out bombings, beatings and murders to achieve his goal.

Which of the above truths is publicised the most? Which did you know about? Was he a hero or a villain?

Who cares!?!?! It’s the song we’re talkin’ about!!

Nelson proves that, in his case at least, it was what he did that mattered and not how he did it.

What follows below underneath is an extract from Nelson’s private diaries which I stole from him when he came round my house for crumpets at 11:25:53am on the 21st November 2004. He was a belligerent racist with sweaty hands and a huge birthmark in the shape of a vaglna then, but what was he like before…..

July 12th 1961:

I have come to realise that I am a belligerent racist with sweaty hands and a birthmark in the shape of a vaglna!

Ok, ok….so the first question has been answered but maybe if we read on we can find out even more….

(You have no choice in this)

July 13th 1961:

I met the most beautiful girl in the world today! She’s short, round and a little bit hairy.

She reminds me of Mum.

I was in the underground lair plotting more ways that I can create devastation for the white devil, when something caught my eye in the street periscope. It was her.

I ran up the down escalator, caught my breath and then chased her down the street. As I caught up I saw she was with a white man, so I pulled back. As I walked past her she smelt like honey.

I couldn’t help myself…I stole her purse.

When I got home I went through it and found out her name – Winnie.

July 14th 1961:

Last night after we last spoke, I put on the gloves that I found in Winnie’s purse. I touched myself for three hours. Afterwards the guys came over, it was so embarrassing! They walked in just as I had tucked my banana between my legs and started to make kissy faces in the mirror. They laughed until they shlt themselves and then they r@ped me. It was great.

This is borin’! Nelson didn’t ‘alf go on a bit in his younger days!

To cut a long story short it turned out that the girl was in fact Winnie the Pooh, the white man was Christopher Robin, there was a vicious love triangle. Nelson murdered Christopher Robin by bludgeoning him to death with a butt plug, the media had a field day, Piglet was devastated, yadda, yadda, yadda…

The moral of this story is:

Don’t play the race card! If you do, we’ll fuk your black arse up!

NOTE TO POLITICALLY CORRECT BOREDOM MONGERS:-

If you didn’t like the last sentence, I suggest you fcuk off and read an e-mail sent by Delia Smith or a member of the clergy! NEWSFLASH: IT’S A JOKE! If you stick around reading my e-mails you’ll probably read stuff about homosexuality, religion, invalids (the disabled), paedophilia, different races, I’ll probably cuss your Mum and your Nan in the most vile and derogatory of ways creating vivid images in your head that’ll most likely lead you to become insane with a rage so consuming that you’ll gladly fcuk the very midwife that delivered you! The Swine!!

In my book it categorically states that Frank Sinatra is not, as the media would have us believe, dead but is in fact commanding Hezbollah militants in South Lebanon, funding Hamas terrorist cells in the Gaza Strip and slippin' his length to anythin' in a Hijab!

Apparently, he first became a Muslim in 1974 when he met Mohammed Ali, Malcolm X and Michael Jackson in the bushes at a six year old girls birthday party. Reasons for their presence in the bushes are unclear, although rumour has it that Ali had planned to marry the child in an arranged ceremony later in the year. Unfortunately for Ali, the girl and her family rejected his advances and moved house to avoid him. The girl died three years later in an unrelated incident after being beaten to death with the Qu'ran and having the word 'Slag' written across her forehead with the tattered remains of her clitoris.

The fact that his Islamic brother had been rejected by a snivelling infidel enraged Sinatra and after a conversation with an Imam became a Thunder mentalist following storms and hurricanes all over the world spending million of dollars.

After 15 years of storm chasing Sinatra realised that he had misheard the Imam and soon became a fundamentalist.

From 1983 until 1997 he ran a terrorist training camp just south of Kandehar in Afghanistan, recruiting over 180 billion young muslims as Mujahadeen fighters. Training them in such vital skills as gun maintenance, bomb making and jive talk in classes he ran side by side with Sammy Davis Jnr, whom later quit in disgrace after being seen in photographs talking and laughing with a homosexual with not even the slightest attempt to cut his little gay face off.

It was at this camp that he met Mohammed Al-Zaqarwi, figurehead of Al-Qaeda

in Iraq. They became great friends and Sinatra became Hezbollah's weapons liaison officer to Iran. He used his great wealth to bargain with the Iranians swapping US owned Uranium for Katushya rockets and three magic beans. The fate of the beans is unknown although it is believed that they were time travel beans which allowed Sinatra to go back in time to force Hitler to commit atrocities against blacks and jews across Europe. This theory is backed up by extraordinary footage of Hitler humming 'Bad bad Leroy Brown' before taking the stage at the Nuremburg Rally in 1938, 20 years before the song was written.

There are also unsubstantiated rumours, so far voiced by no one, that when the Russians were performing their autopsy on Hitler's charred remains they found small traces of Sinatra's semen in his rectum. Apparently Josep Stalin confirmed this by sending an undercover spy to get DNA from the infant Sinatra. Ironically though, it was this spy who accidentally left his favourite jazz tape in the bedroom at the Sinatra home. This tape is thought by many to be the catalyst for Sinatra's love of music and his inspiration to be a singer in the first place.

After returning to the present day Sinatra travelled from Iran, through Syria to the Lebanon to command on the front line in his struggle against the West.

E-mail this to every person in the Universe. If we do, then we can find the current owner of the magic beans and send them back to remove the jazz tape thus preventing this whole sorry affair from starting in the first place.

Should the Sinatra family ever read this, I would ask that they refrain from suing or taking any other legal action because this is the result of various random electronic impulses created by nerve cells in my brain, my nerve cells have no money of their own, nor do they own any real estate or any stocks or shares. Therefore I believe that pursuing a case against these cells would not only be infantile but all in all a bit silly.

This passage is taken from ‘Stuff I done’ the auto-biography of Champion the wonder horse who sadly died on the 5th May 1882. He died suddenly and unexpectedly after a long illness, drug overdose and horrific car accident.

RIP.

(Upon reading this sentence you have agreed to contract cancer of the eye)

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