In the small room with TV gardener Alan
Titchmarsh
Today, Alan Titchmarsh is regaling us with the joys of
squeezing out a bad boy after a hard day in the garden.
Ooooh!
I can see stars mummy
Any
one who's suffered the pains of constipation will appreciate
the joy I feel at the birth of a big brown botty snake.
I sometimes give them names as I look at them flowing
away, goodbye Turdeena! Safe journey, I cry, as they slip
off to jobby heaven, dodging the seed filled condoms and
the bloody tampons, it must be one hell of a roller-coaster
ride.
I
remember as a boy, stopping over at my Uncle
Arthur's, and the horror I felt when he announced to all
and sundry, that a rat had crawled up his arse and died.
I couldn't sleep for the remainder of my holidays, fearing
a similar fate would befall me if I nodded off.
Charlie's
full of it
Crap
& fag break for Charlie & her nipples
I arrive on location at a Youth club
for lesbian & gay badger baiters, to find Charlie
close to tears. The shows producers have insisted that
Charlie's nipples are not going to get a mention in
the shows credits.
"They're a big a part of the show as Alan, she
yells." After she agrees that I'm bigger than her
nipples, I give her a quick cuddle, and that's when
she confesses that she's a bit edgy because she hasn't
had a bowel movement in over a month.
Faecal
compaction, it's a very serious medical condition that
causes sufferers to compact their poo in their colons.
Famous sufferers include John Wayne.
John Waynes autopsy revealed he had 67 pounds of compacted
faeces in his colon, goodness knows how much is in Charlie,
but I reckon she aint too far behind the Duke.
You'll be happy to know that Charlie was soon on the
pan after Tommy (the man without the nipples) cleared
her blocked bowels with his Jackhammer and a bottle
of Fairy liquid.
Warning: gethostbyaddr() [function.gethostbyaddr]: Address is not a valid IPv4 or IPv6 address in /home/3509/mickpro/www.fatdancer.org/public_html/bbclone/mark_page.php on line 159
Follow
the money with 
In the small room with TV gardener Alan
Titchmarsh
Arthur's, and the horror I felt when he announced to all
and sundry, that a rat had crawled up his arse and died.
I couldn't sleep for the remainder of my holidays, fearing
a similar fate would befall me if I nodded off.
