Jack Tweed goes to the doctor and says, ‘Fackinell, doctor, I’m feeling really unwell – I’m sick all the time and me fackin teeth are falling out and me hairs a fackin state and I keep boning all these birdz.’
The doctor takes a few minutes and then says, ‘Listen Jack Tweed, I think I know what’s wrong with you. I’d like you to go home. Cover your cock in fish guts, spray your face with a liquid that’s a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and your own piss, lay down on the floor, cover yourself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that you can buy and finally turn on an analogue radio so you get white noise… then turn that up to the highest possible volume. When you vomit, just rub it into your chest and shit yourself a bit.’
‘Do all that’ says the doctor, ‘and come back to me in a week.’
Jack Tweed gets up all happy, smiles a cheeky smile and says, ‘Fackinell doc, that sounds like a mess, but seeing as you cleared up me crabs, I’ll facking give it a go.’
So Jack goes home, covers his cock in fish guts, sprays his face with a liquid that’s a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and his own piss, lays down on the floor, covers himself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that he could afford (which was a lot) and finally, he turns on an analogue radio to get white noise. With that, he turned it right up to the highest volume it would go. After five minutes he vomited, so, as the doctor said, he rubbed the honk into his chest and shat himself.
Twelve minutes later, Jack Tweed was cured.
‘Fackinell, I’m cured. That doctor’s a fackin genius.’
A week later Jack stops boning some scrubbers for an hour and goes back to the doctor.
‘Fackinell doc’ Jack says, ‘I did all the shit you told me – sprayed my face with with a liquid that was a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and my own piss, lay down on the floor, covered myself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that I could afford (which was a fackin lot) and finally, I turned on an analogue radio to get white noise. Oh, I forgot, I turned it right up to the highest volume it would go. You were right about the honking doc – after five minutes I vomited so I did as you said and rubbed the stuff in my chest and shat meself.’
‘And it only fackin cured me’ says Jack Tweed.
‘Of course it did, I’m an excellent doctor.’
‘One thing I’m dying to know doc: what was wrong with me?’
‘Oh that’s easy’ says the doctor, ‘you were missing Jade.’
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Jack Tweed goes to the doctor and says, ‘Fackinell, doctor, I’m feeling really unwell – I’m sick all the time and me fackin teeth are falling out and me hairs a fackin state and I keep boning all these birdz.’
The doctor takes a few minutes and then says, ‘Listen Jack Tweed, I think I know what’s wrong with you. I’d like you to go home. Cover your cock in fish guts, spray your face with a liquid that’s a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and your own piss, lay down on the floor, cover yourself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that you can buy and finally turn on an analogue radio so you get white noise… then turn that up to the highest possible volume. When you vomit, just rub it into your chest and shit yourself a bit.’
‘Do all that’ says the doctor, ‘and come back to me in a week.’
Jack Tweed gets up all happy, smiles a cheeky smile and says, ‘Fackinell doc, that sounds like a mess, but seeing as you cleared up me crabs, I’ll facking give it a go.’
So Jack goes home, covers his cock in fish guts, sprays his face with a liquid that’s a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and his own piss, lays down on the floor, covers himself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that he could afford (which was a lot) and finally, he turns on an analogue radio to get white noise. With that, he turned it right up to the highest volume it would go. After five minutes he vomited, so, as the doctor said, he rubbed the honk into his chest and shat himself.
Twelve minutes later, Jack Tweed was cured.
‘Fackinell, I’m cured. That doctor’s a fackin genius.’
A week later Jack stops boning some scrubbers for an hour and goes back to the doctor.
‘Fackinell doc’ Jack says, ‘I did all the shit you told me – sprayed my face with with a liquid that was a distillation of kebab juice, vodka and my own piss, lay down on the floor, covered myself with as many plastic bags of old cooking fat that I could afford (which was a fackin lot) and finally, I turned on an analogue radio to get white noise. Oh, I forgot, I turned it right up to the highest volume it would go. You were right about the honking doc – after five minutes I vomited so I did as you said and rubbed the stuff in my chest and shat meself.’
‘And it only fackin cured me’ says Jack Tweed.
‘Of course it did, I’m an excellent doctor.’
‘One thing I’m dying to know doc: what was wrong with me?’
‘Oh that’s easy’ says the doctor, ‘you were missing Jade.’
Posted on 14 August 2009 at 14:23
quite
Posted on 15 August 2009 at 17:09
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