Friday, 25 September 2009

I imagine celebrities get to a point where they simply want to snap at fans and tell them to fuck off. Can I have an autograph is probably the most common problem famous people get but it's the comedians and actors with catchphrases that probably get the hardest time. Comedians are probably sick to death of hearing shit jokes from random Joe's in the hope that they use them in a forthcoming performance.
'Oi, Frankie, here's one for Mock The Week. Try and get this in. Cuddling your wife after sex is like staying on the toilet after a dump.'
'Paul, I’ve just won a small fortune playing scissors paper stone.Every time my opponent goes for stone, I choose paper.I’m making money hand over fist. Bet you can use that on Have I Got News.'
'Jimmy, here's something you can say on stage. My favourite fruit is a pear. Which incidently is an anagram of my favourite hobby.'
Actors/presenters with catchphrases must also regret the day they read a script and thought things such as, 'I don't believe it, Beam me up Scotty and Say what you see,' were a great idea.
Well, right now, I know how they feel. 'Alex, great blog you've just written. Delighted you're at it again. Here's one for you. Do one about Britney Spears.' I must admit that I didn't help my cause by encouraging things by pointing out to my idiot friend he would need to be a tad more specific than asking me to write a blog about Britney Spears as that was about as open a request as where do you think Madeleine McCann is and what happened to her? (Well, it would be open if i didn't know the answer was my loft and none of your fucking business.)
He thought for a moment and said, 'Write about Britneys self esteem being so low she'd let you have a threesome with her kids.' Now I must admit, I have on numerous occasions imagined (vividely) a sexy threesome with Miss Spears 2 extremely attractive sons but never have I climaxed into my Spars own toilet roll until she herself has bothered to enter the fantasy. Regardless of how absolutely grade A fucking banana's, mental beyond belief and crazy as she is, I'd still do anything for a few minutes with her and her extremely low self esteem. Granted, she's nothing more than a wealthy mans Kerry Katona but I defy any man to tell me he wouldn't still love to bend her over and treat her like a whore/his wife. Actually, she deserves better than to be treated like a wife so forget that. Infact, she's still so desirable despite all the water that's passed under the bridge, I'd probably go as far as walking barefoot for 6 days just to eat her period. Mental? - Yes. Sexy? - Yes. Low self esteem? - Yes. Fuckable kids? - Yes. Am I going to put that in print? - Not a fucking chance Chris.

Friday, 18 September 2009

I haven't blogged for a while but that's because firstly, there was nothing to blog about and secondly, because Ross McTavish a little rodent cunt of a man that worked for the local paper started sniffing about my previous blogs and had the brass neck to imply I was racist. Guess you don't need a degree to write for Aberdeen Journals then?

Well, I have something worth writing about now so fuck Ross McTavish. I have info to good not to write about. I have the info that everyone wants. I'm the fly on the wall with the hard on while Katie Price is getting gagged and reaching desperately for the Mace. That's right folks, Alexasks is exclusively revealing who raped Jordan before the tabloids even have it in print. It was................................Former olympian and record breakers presenter Kris Akubusi and here's how he did it.

Akabusi scaled the walls of the £756,000 Sussex mansion with all the stealth of a gekko on a Mallorcan shower wall. As luck would have it the window was open. He dropped in and slipped out of his dungerees and let the cool air caress his polished ebony skin.

The house was quiet. He looked into one room and saw the sleeping Peter Andre - without the wig and wax on his face he was rather beautiful. But Akabusi wasn't into arses. Not today.

He heard a noise coming from the bathroom. He ran along the landing, his giant cock swinging in the air like Saddam on Youtube. He looked into the bathroom and saw a mad little fucker, big as a barrel and blind as a bat leaping up and down in some boiling water.

"Akabusi!" said a voice behind him. "Stop looking at my son with your cock out". Akabusi slowly turned around and saw Katie Price in front of him - wearing nothing but a Juicy Couture camisole and the slightest glistening of her ample clunge.

As ever Akabusi's cock became harder than the Guardian cryptic and proceeded to bang her tits off as Harvey ate a bag of Prawn Cocktail crisps off the floor that Akabusi had brought just in case.

Before Akabusi left he wiped his now dying cock on Harvey's afro, bent down to the prone Jordan, who lay liked a painter's radio in the moonlight, and whispered "Awooga" in her ear before patting her on the fanny and sleeking off into the dark, dark night.

I'm only joking, it was John Leslie.