Thursday 17 November 2011

Sepptoe And Son.

Mr Sepp Blatter you an old idiotic man, a senile fool. Just like all people of your outrageous age, you have lost all your marbles and spout strange bizarre statements which make no sense other than to your addled mind.

You have also become fat in your hideous old age and look horrible when sitting down in a seat that sinks horribly low when you plonk your huge arse into it.


I am sure when you take your hot chocolate to bed at night you hope for a long peaceful sleep. But of course that is never going to happen because of your aged bladder which sees you having to get up countless times at night. Also as you have little control over your bodily functions, most of your piss ends up running down your leg. This explains why as an old person you smell of it as you go about your confused business by day.

You are also a dirty old man in mind too. Ogling over the nubile lady football players who at your behest should be wearing oh so tight tops and shorty shorts so that you can see as much shape as possible. Sadly due to your obscene age, none of this helps you to get it up as it lays there in a shrivelled state.

However you are confident in your sexuality and are always alert for anyone who might be slightly queer and likely to break out into rampant sex at any opportunity. You of course keep you hands behind your back so not to be taken by surprise at any moment and keep you cataract prone eyes on them at all times if they look a bit iffy.

I could of course bring up how you like all them black people so much as well as I state my case, but like all old people given power like you that they really don't have a clue what to do with it, you continue to make that solid case on your own. This is of course when you are not busy storing all them brown envelopes in that cupboard of yours.

We can all look on the bright side though and see that you will soon be dead, I mean what are you now? 95?


I mean no disrespect with the above piece. It was written in the heat of my writing my blog and these things occur when tensions are high. It means nothing at all and will of course all be forgotten when I get to shake your calloused hand...