Written by Skoob1999
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Friday, 18 March 2011

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You've Got Shuttlecock's Blog Dad - Quick! Hit The 'Back' Button!

It's come to light that local man and talentless occasional TheSpoof.com contributor, Martin Shuttlecock has actually set up a blog - although it appears that having gone thus far, he is utterly devoid of ideas regarding how to proceed with it.

Long suffering wife, Anne, told Skoob Entertainment News:

"I don't see the point in the silly sod writing a blog. I mean...what's he going to talk about? It isn't as if he's making one of them Bollywood blockbuster fillums, or writing a deeply meaningful treatise on human psychology - he's just a twat. Since he hurt his leg having a fight with a train, it takes two of us with crowbars to pry his bone idle arse off the settee. He's either tapping away on that Spoof website or watching 'Deadliest Catch' and Bear Grylls on 'The Discovery Channel.' Yeah, roight. Wishful thinkin' I reckon. The daft bastard wouldn't survive the night in our back garden!"

A somewhat deflated Martin Shuttlecock then confided in SEN supremo Buffty Ginslinger that he had been encouraged by fellow Spoof writers Erskin Quint and birbee Bieber to start a blog.

"Erskin was a bit technical when I asked about his Spandrill site," Shuttlecock admitted. "Too much HTML and all that. I'm not trained in that stuff, so I looked at birbee's blog and it was all about precast concrete, big daft shoes and slow cookers. So I thought I'd do one. Trouble is, I live a really uneventful life - apart from fighting trains, nutting lamp-posts and singing opera in Covent Garden in a strictly drunken amateur manner. So me blog got bogged down. Or maybe, more accurately 'blogged' down. I'll put something on there when I get something worthy of comment happen in me life. Which if I'm lucky may be sometime before I die."

"Silly bastard," long suffering wife Anne muttered, shaking her head contemptuously as she peeled some Maris Piper potatoes in order to cook some chips.

In a deep fat frier - not a slow cooker or a spandrill.

Or a big pair of silver shoes.

More as we get it.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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