5- Hamsters don’t have cheeks

17 Feb

Bonjour fellow humans, you have come back to be enlightened by the thoughts that fly around my head! The very first and new blog of 2017. Let me know what you think, so sit back or down and enjoy. 
So what turns out to be a shite week, my fucking bank card was cloned and used in Abu Dhabi to the sum of 175 pounds. I brought my usual morning paper, kit Kat and flat white, which I had to put the massive sum of £3.60 on my debit card. Little did I know only a few hours later I would be taking a phone call from Barclays asking me if I was in Abu Dhabi and could I confirm I’ve spent 175 English pounds in a shop. You can imagine my glee and joyful response back to the bank when I replied….

“no mate, I’m in Woking on an industrial estate eating a bacon and egg roll”
“Ahh, well sir we’ve cancelled your bank card for you, to stop this from happening again”
Brilliant end to the week I thought, as I’ve just funded a fucking IED packed skoda into the Middle East!! 
Can see Isis now, holding their very own comic relief type style telly programme asking for donations and showing short videos of English people going about their early morning commute. 
“Here we see Mr Parker and his work colleagues taking in their morning meeting. For just a £3 pound donation, we can end this suffering and misery for Mr Parker.”
It’d cut later in the programme to the host, Mr Isis Lenny Henry giving a mid show totaliser up on the jumbotron. 
“We’ve had some amazing donations in the last hour, especially from a Mr Slater in Oxfordshire who has funded this mortar and hand written message on the side, to be aimed at the American military over on that hill, a thousand thank you Mr Slater”

Anyway, swiftly moving on as quick as the winner from the voice does and to keep you wanting more I’ll post up another one very soon which may contain dittys such as “Nothing can set you up for being turned down by a fat bird”, “Facebook status raping has changed since I was a kid” and that all important topic “Darts in the kitchen as a kid and the double folded towel”

Im over on twitter @notmartinclunes, come join me for gentle joshing. 😘


4-Turtles are nocturnal

17 Feb

So i thought id put a few words down as like a 70’s TV star i’ve been keeping very quiet!

Went shopping today with the new treacle to show her i am a modern man and that i will happily walk behind her like louie walsh does to simon cowell and carry his bag, i mean her bags. You walk into the 1,000,000 shop to look at clothes,shoes,shit and god knows what else, and you are greeted by what looks like a scene out of saving private ryan. Men are littered all over the shop leaning on clothes racks fully loaded with dorothy perkins shopping bags with that look on their face of “if i can get to B&Q i can buy some rope and end this misery”. These places need sofas in the shop, that way men will have somewhere to congregate to discuss the finer points of why england football shanked another big tournament. Why wayne rooney is clearly past his best in a football shirt and should just go back to working in greggs instead of eating the place! 

Failing that, a fully stocked bar in which men can be happily stood with a cold one, knowing their treacle is happily shopping surrounded by her own kind. She is then under no rush to find what she wants. She can chill try on as many pairs of heels, flats, shoes, pumps as she wants leaving her man to have as many beers which are accompanied by vast bowls of nuts, In the time it takes her to try on that Black top you’ve seen in 4 OTHER SHOPS!!
As you walk around these shops you see these men that have taken the day to spend walking around and being loaded up with bags like spanish donkeys. This is all part of a unwritten rule that man knows is going to happen when he gets his treacle home and what she is going to give him, the thank you blow job. You nod knowingly towards the other men, whilst staying silent, giving a little grin in their direction of the mutual appreciation of them giving up their time to earn this late afternoon delight. Whilst this is happening you are in constant fear of being that bloke on the receiving end of your treacle hollering from the other side of primark…
“ere babe, does this go with my red jeans at home and be honest”….
“yeah it looks really good that babe, brings out the natural color in your eyes………. ** under the breath** “fucking shut up!! 

I can be found at @notmartinclunes on all forms of social media, of me being and saying stuff by me…. so from me… bye!

3- Dogs are women’s best friend

17 Feb

Number three so soon after number two, I am spoiling you like Jimmy saville spoiled his guests. 
As i sit and write this the country has gone mental about the above mentioned and he has become the biggest “suspected” peado since my old geography teacher, and now everybody is suddenly coming out the wood work saying they have been subjected to jimmys now then now then’s a bit to much, and he isn’t the golden angel he painted himself out to be. Makes me think back to my childhood on who else could of been dodgy around under 8’s and the list is endless. The cast of rainbow, pat sharpe and his fun house (clue is in the title, the twins were just a cover up), Bodger and badger to name a couple. It all points to peter pan being a victim of the highest order. Think about it, he wants to stay a boy for the rest of his life and live in amongst the lost boys with a fairy for a best friend. 
Soooo Christmas is here, and is wanted by me as much as I want to be subjected to a middle digit up the bum hole by a one night stand, a close up of seeing my dads ball bag hanging down between his legs when he was trying to put his long johns on or seeing marley and me again (I cried like a teenager being told they can’t have another WKD blue!) Don’t get me wrong Christmas is nice and is all  family orientated but jesus wept, can’t we wait till at least December to start putting lights up, saying merry Christmas, or seeing family members you don’t want to see during the other 11 months of the year and end up isle dodging down the local supermarket! You are then subjected to Uncle Steve and his wife Fiona, who is dressed up like the winning horse in the national. She got the big fur coat and 68 inch heels waltzing around the front room like she is a contestant on strictly, pouting like she has just eaten a haribo tang tasctic and will only sit down when the chair is pulled out for her by Uncle Steve whilst drinking her glass of Buck’s Fizz. 
I have recently been on a few dates from such a website called plenty of fish. Its people watching but you actually end up talking to them face to face over a coffee, or if they are really fit then a Chloroform filled bunch of flowers. 

So i clicked on this one girl and read her profile with great intent and ended up having a wank, I mean I perused at her pictures to see what she is all about. She was good looking, seemed logical thinking and didn’t come across as a rose west type character so after a few messages  we decided to meet. The day come around as quick as Linford Christies bollocks swung back and forth whilst running, and we had agreed to meet in a pub on the out skirts of Luton (fuck me, Luton) The ‘date’ proceeded with out hitch for the first ten minutes then that’s until she started to talk like Vickie pollard on speed! Now I love a good swear word but fuck me this girl could make Gordon Ramsey look like a choir boy!

I learnt my lessons from that date….

A; Do not go to the out skirts of Luton, ever!

B; Don’t go to the out skirts of Luton, ever and with out speaking on the phone first, as you will end up leaving twenty minutes later after running out the pub saying your just going to the toilet!

C; Don’t wear your favourite coat

D; I didn’t know how much i loved that coat until your driving out of Luton going ‘i loved that coat like i love cheesy chips’!

E; Don’t wear a coat on a first date.

F; Should of took the flowers
I bid you goodbye and wish you a merry xmas and this can be discussed with me on twittor @notmartinclunes 

2- Goats are related to hippos

17 Feb

I have been away for too long, so first taxi of the rank is blocked numbers, winds me right up!! 
This is almost as bad as when back in the day, my mum caught me with her pants. I Wasn’t doing any thing with them, apart from seeing if I could genuinely use them like Dennis the menace did with his mums,as a sling shot….You can’t by the way!
Why do phone company’s let people block their number, I mean surely they are just letting young boys ring up and shout “TITS”down the phone to the fit girl from their class or letting me ring up a random number and pretend I am there long lost family member from back in the day when their mother was a goer and fighting fit in her pre 70’s hey day… Now a days even Stevie Wonder wouldn’t ride her into battle!!!
Blocked numbers are a bain of my life, it feels as if I have my own eastenders plot line when they ring as i always end up answering the phone in the style of phil Mitchell ….. ‘elllo,,,, who’s thaaaat??? Shaaaaron!!!!’
They all ways seem to ring just as I am sitting down to food, or praying on the porcelain god. You then rush to either wipe really quickly which just makes matters worse for yourself and it spreads just like honey on toast, or you end up burning your bloody mouth on a roast potato! If you achieve to do either with out spreading or burning, THE FUCKING THING STOPS RINGING!! It’s right up there with ‘unexpected item in bagging area’ moments!!!!

I see on the telly that the Olympics is on and has gripped the country like a heart attack grips a O.A.P, a period grips a man’s ball bag on rag weekend, and like my face when asked for my number after a one night stand. So after a slow start like an old skoda, Team GB has started collecting gold medals like i used to collect rejections from all the girls at school. The cycling has been our most triumphant moment, with all sorts of goings on with hoy, pendleton getting in on the action as well as the rowers setting the tone with more gold than Mr T has hanging round his neck. However the most talked about lad is Bradley Wiggins as he has made me moist watching him fly round the streets of London Town on his treader eating up the miles like Vanessa feltz eats up the calories. He surely should be knighted Sir Braddo Wiggins of all of laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandan and given the back door key to buck palacee. Especially after his one tweet put down of piers ‘i should of been serving a ten stretch’ Morgan. If he doesn’t want any of that i will have him as my paper boy. I tip well at Christmas unlike my customers when i did my paper round back in the day, where the most i got was “you’ve ripped my fucking daily sport again you prick” Then there was seeing fat tracey out side, hanging her washing on the rotary line in the front garden because the back garden has her 9th husbands ford cortina in, which is currently under going its 14th engine change.

WOMAN GOING AS TAG TEAMS INTO THE TOILETS IN PUBS….. what is that all about…. god didn’t think to write it into the rules of evolution, that if two girls want to go and show each other how they piss, flash the monkeys forehead or talk about the next roast dinner they are going to cook for the bloke in the house hold, then surely men should be allowed in to witness this cave of confusion. Men don’t go two by two into the can to talk hair products. 

“all right Dave, nice hair your styling tonight… ”

“Yeah cheers terry I’m using loreal ultra strong with out the white residue and with complete 24 hour control”


I will tell you ladies what goes on in the men’s khazi. We talk about smashing fat Tracey because we heard she makes a tasty bacon sandwich and gives a half decent blow job, who’s got change for a fiver for the johnny machine, little boy wee’s, no spray no lay, sharing half a joke with the geezer stood beside you about the drunk who is leaning in the corner with his cock hanging half out, how much we could do with a kebab and why do woman go in twos to the toilet. Woman you don’t need to go into the toilet in twos… you don’t do it at home, you are quite capable of going for a piss with out your B.F.F. so why do it when your out. 
I am going now and I’m over on twitter  @notmartinclunes

1- Flamingos are alcoholics

17 Feb

As I sit and write this I am in the midst of fighting a horrible disease that makes mens bollocks shrivel at the thought of……man flu……
Its a terrible diesese that has claimed many a man stopping them from going to work, doing the big shop with their lady friend, dinner with the in-laws and going to the dentist for a root canal. So i have taken drastic measures in which to shift it and in no particular order I have attempted the following.
I’ve laid on the sofa for hours on end watching shite telly, moan to anybody that will listen that I am seriously ill and I’m in need of chicken soup and a cuddle, wanking every 45 minutes whilst looking at the knickers page in the lodgers littlewoods catalogue (my lodger is a proper girl with tits and everything), playing fifa12 which I have succeed to get oxford into the championship…..
Three days this has been spread over and the only thing to come out of the whole process is that A; I smell and B; I need to buy more loo roll and wash/buy more socks!!!
I am now going to touch on something that will divide all that read this and I’m sorry not sorry because I’m a man and it annoys me….slow people…..you are either one of these moronic people, or you are like me and wanting to walk/drive/cycle at a good pace with out the need or hindrance of these people being on this planet and holding you up from doing your daily grind. You are exempt from this if you’re at a age where you remember when jim callaghan was prime minister, brylcream was bigger than david beckham and the cost of a pint wasn’t the price of a one bed flat in chelsea!! The government should put this as an extra tax and its a tax I would quite happily pay to enable myself to go about my daily routine without being slowed down by some chav whose trackies are that low he is struggling to walk because the elastic band on his donnay trackies are stopping his legs functioning properly and hopefully he falls over breaks his heavily tattooed neck which bears the names of his 6 children and his area code from which he is ‘representing’!!
The tax would enable local councils to make pathways like a motorway systems with overtaking encouraged and no speed limit in place which would then stop the ozone layer being ruined even more by the constant screams of somebody shouting ‘get out of my faaaaccking way you paaarrrick!!!!!!!!!’ So for this reason this is why I am going to stand for prime minister because somebody with this much sensible thinking has got to be worth a go even if I would treat it like shits and giggles and number ten would end up the worlds best lads gaff ever,fact!! My manifesto shall consist of ten things( piece of paper with what I would do to make this country great again written on it )…..
1. The above argument 2. Pound a pint regardless of time of day with free pork scratchings 3. Birds must wear a banner round their neck so it hangs down there back giving a score out of ten so men know if its safe to shout the obligatory OI OI TREACLE,SHOW US YA MONKEYS FOREHEAD 4. Once you reach 60 you must go into a home so not to clog up the streets with your constant fucking moaning about the youth of today 5. Mcdonalds will do delivery’s 6. Lunch times will be three hours long 7. Every night club to have a minger mirror, so you don’t end up shit faced round fat Tracey’s bedsit wondering why you got a two-year old toddler staring at you from the end of the bed asking for its coco pops 8. KFC to reveal that annoying fucking secret recipe 9. The whole entire royal family will have a job at various places with harry and his cock of a brother both working the tills at superdrug!(second thoughts the words super and drug will have harry clucking) 10. A bastard bank holiday every month so in coincides with pay-day so we can all get drunk on a tenner, eat a kebab and go home with a bird that’s got a board saying ‘I am a 7 out of 10’!!
I am open to debate on any of these matters or indeed ramblings I have done so come join me @notmartinclunes so for now, let’s get boozy!!