The Whitechapel Whelk
We are a small, but perfectly formed band of satirists and smudge artists. We neither drink nor smoke. Nor indeed, do we use profanity or indulge in the sinful pleasures of the flesh. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get down the pub before closing time for a few pints and half an ounce of Golden Virginia. Hopefully, I'll have enough cash left to visit the local rub 'n' tug shop later for a massage and a rattling good bunk up with a painted floozie.
All The Best.
Danny SoZ.
Editor-in-chief
July 9, 2017 at 4:57 am
“Bitchski” Laughing my ass off!
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July 9, 2017 at 4:59 am
Hey, how you doin’ cousin? I remember you from when we were The League of Mental Men. Good to see you again , my man 😀
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July 9, 2017 at 5:23 am
Poor Abe… to be born before the teleprompter. how embarrassing.
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July 9, 2017 at 5:37 am
Yep. He used to have all his speeches written on the inside of his eyelids so he could refresh his memory every time he blinked. Absolutely true that is!
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July 16, 2017 at 3:37 am
As always, if you are reporting it, I am taking it to the bank.
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July 9, 2017 at 2:28 pm
Abe employed an age-old technique, stolen from opera – He began with “four score and seven years ago.” By the time he was at “four score and sev…” most of the crowd was asleep. We wouldn’t know how good the speech was if they hadn’t made us memorize it in grade school.
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July 9, 2017 at 4:41 pm
Think yourself lucky that it was one of Abe’s shorter oratories then! We limey kids had to memorise the complete works of Shakespeare during our tea breaks. Oh yes, we had it tough!
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