Page 1 of 1

Dirtbox To Walk Miss Markle Down the Aisle

PostPosted: May 15th 2018, 11:19am
by conjurer
So it turns out the future princess's da is a divvy cunt: ... index.html

which shouldnt surprise anybody when you marrying into the Americans the cocks. Not that youre young correspondent Dirty ever refused a bit of dosh from the press (after all that new Tooter Black Bay chrono aint gonna bye itself the plank.) But anyway my brigadier at the Special Boat Service calls me into the boat house at Hereford and sez, 'Right then, Dirty. The yank's pa turns out to be a divvy cunt. So youll be walking the new American counsin princess down the aisle. And dont fuck it up, you savvy?' the cock.

Now, being the newest Night of the relm, I was going to the wedding anyway, and was figuring on getting some right crumpet from a bridesmade, like. I was always partial to americans the fucks and in particular to the American pussy, which is prime cuts, and no error. But now Dirtys got a shot at a princess, which is capital. I sent for my batman Bronko and told him, 'right, bronco, you bohunk fuck, pop down to Harrads and get me a new Arab strap, along with some astroglide, and step lively me lad, or Ill see your backbone on the fucking parade ground you cock.'

Re: Dirtbox To Walk Miss Markle Down the Aisle

PostPosted: May 16th 2018, 12:25am
by Mark1
sEw wuT kinD of Wartch R u goIng too wAre oNn this heAr ospaciyouS okayShun dIrtYbOx?

Re: Dirtbox To Walk Miss Markle Down the Aisle

PostPosted: May 16th 2018, 11:10am
by nimbleboy
Completely unrelated, but I guess I guess I understand the title of one of my all-time favorite records, Special Beat Service, now.

Re: Dirtbox To Walk Miss Markle Down the Aisle

PostPosted: May 17th 2018, 10:37pm
by conjurer
So a little backstory as they say in Hollywood you cocks. You mite have recalled that I said that Bronko was my batman, and so he is, and this is how he became that, the bohunk plank.

Now, even though Im seconded to the Special Boat Service, seeing as I had kilt off plenty of Johnny Taliban (at least in dispatches, not in real life the divvy cunts) Im still in the Horse Guards, part of the Household Cavalry, protecting good Queen Liz and the rest of the royals the cocks. As an officer there my brigadier told me I had to get a batman. 'The fucks a batman?' sez I, and got away with being a cheeky bastard, being a hero and all for dispatching a homegrown Shropshire terrorist with a belly bomb with a judicial double tap from my Glock the fuck.

The brigadier sez, 'Well, leftenant Dirty, a batman is your servant, he takes care of you and such.' So they assign me a hapless old Poonjob Paki, who cleans my kit and keeps my Lee-Endfield in good nick a sew Fourth. But the ancient bastard--older then Foghorn over here the cock--misses the poonjob two bad and ends up dying the fuck. So its time to find a new batman for Dirty, than Bronko shows up.

For those whove forgotten (and most of you old cocks have, no doubt) Bronko was a bohunk who tried to turn youre young correspondent out, back when I was living with my mum at the Margaret Thatcher Council Estates, on the dole and goddamn near on the lam. Bronko promised me riches as a party boy going to Doo-Buy, stooping for sheecks and other unspeakable gyppos. Now, all the sudden, hes back the fuck, and tugging his forelock like some sort of Dickensian fuck the plank. How he ended up in the Household Cavalry Ive no idea; HM's army is getting as bad as the Frog foreign legion, Id wager.

'Yo leftenant, Ill shine youre kit up but good, no error,' sez he, and since Ive got him where I want him the cunt, and since I dont generally pass up a chance to chastise my inferiors, I assisted him out of my quarters with the toe of my boot the fuck. He did the dirty to Dirty, and now it was time for the payback for the greasy bohunk cock.

So the next night I was drinking some prime boordeaux, listening to the wireless, while Bronko scrubbed the floor. Ill have you licking my boots soon my lad I thought, and pretty soon, assuming I have to go back to Candaharr, Ill leave you for Johnny Jihad to skin and eat my son, thinks I, the fuck.

And all the time I thought about what a prime mount Miss Merkle would make for my aching Adams arsenal, which was capital fun you fucks.


Love and kisses, Sir Reginald Dirtbox, OBE, VC

Re: Dirtbox To Walk Miss Markle Down the Aisle

PostPosted: May 18th 2018, 4:49am
by MKTheVintageBloke
It's VC, OBE, ya spastic plank! VC comes before all the other titles.