It can't be true

Written by galgar

Tuesday, 14 September 2010


The story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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I find it rather hard to believe that the former thirteen pints a day macho man Willie Hague prefers dipping his wick in the stink rather that the pink. Just because he occasionally shares a room with another male of the opposite persuasion doesn't mean that he's bent.

I'm also amazed that the fat fraulein Angela seems to be getting her sweaty knickers in a twist over a proposed RAF war memorial just because we inadvertantly broke a little Dresden china during retaliatory bombing raids. After all, who started the bloody war, in fact both wars?

The crauts have a lot to answer for because they caused us to lose the better men, so we should be asking the miserable bastards to compensate for our losses.

We could always resume bombing...joke...not really.

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

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