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Thursday 17 January 2013

THE UN BOTHERING OF ELIZABETH FERNKETTLE

 Please refer to this link for earlier details : http://horsingtonsmythe.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/bothering-of-elizabeth-fernkettle.html

 THE UN BOTHERING OF ELIZABETH  FERNKETTLE

Elizabeth Fernkettle

After the turgid and painful birth of Elizabeth Fernkettle, she had a very sheltered childhood with little or no friends. Indeed, the only person she knew other than her mother was the rent collector who extracted his due's in ways other than monetary.

 The overweight landlord would visit the family on a weekly basis and would refuse to leave until Ernestine had performed the grotesque task of pleasuring the septuagenarian collector by tickling his feet and bursting his bulbous boils and blisters. She would complete the grooming process by licking the remaining scummy residue clean with her tongue and hideous toothless deformed mouth.       

Her father Nathaniel, had died mysteriously days after her birth and his name or presence was never mentioned by her grotesque mother Ernestine , who soon reverted to her maiden name"Monkfish".

Elizabeth had weighed fifteen pounds at birth and her mother never forgave her for the pain she endured during her protracted birth. 

However, Elizabeth endured all her mother could throw at her and at the age of sixteen she left home to search for details of her long dead father, Nathaniel Fernkettle.
She had managed to obtain some information from her mothers tormentor, the foot fetish indulging rent collector, when she overheard a conversation confirming her deceased father as a Ferret Trainer with an intelligence verging on that of a sombalistic village idiot.
Village idiot

She also noted between the sighs, farts and groans emanating from the rent collectors reddened orifice's, that he was from Otley, and liked a pint of best Yorkshire ale.

With these few details she gathered her sparse belongings in a small basket and slipped out the door whilst her mother fermented a dilution of boil pus and blister fluid, which she would use to smooth the feet of her tormentor when he called for his weekly portion of toe sucking fornication and boil bursting.

The mixture was also bottled by the hideous wretch and sold as a phlegm loosener under the name "Madam Monkfish's Elixir" in the markets and shops of Bradford and Leeds.

With her sparse belongings and snippets of information regarding her father, Elizabeth silently and solemnly left the village that she had grown up in and ventured upon the lonely track towards Otley, Yorkshire. She soon stumbled across a milestone indicating that she was traveling in the wrong direction, and that she was on the outskirts of  Leeds.

In need of sustenance and sleep, she slipped in to Leeds and crept in to an Inn where she slept in a outhouse containing dried herrings and oatcakes, which she consumed in a ferocious manner before becoming overwhelmed by severe diarrhea and flatulence.
The continuous farting and heaving of her bowels soon gave her away to the Inn Keeper who discovered her defecating in a sack of broken oat cakes.

However, instead of scolding the stinking shivering wretch, the Inn Keeper took sympathy on Elizabeth and after throwing a couple of pales of water over her stinking body, allowed her to enter his kitchen.

He spoke in a deep Yorkshire brogue and revealed that his name was Thomas Boycott, the son and heir of a long line of coopers and licensed victulars. He had a large bushy moustache and dresses in a waistcoat and breeches, with a gold chain and watch stretched across his ample stomach.

He sat Elizabeth on a barrel next to the open fire and told her to remove her sodden stinking clothes and dress in  the garment that he had deposited next to her. She glanced across at the stout In Keeper and when he averted his stare and faced the wall, removed her clothing and replaced it with the smock provided by the avuncular Thomas Boycott.

She stood bolt upright and looked down at her new apparel. She was pleased by what she saw but was surprised and somewhat astonished to see the name "Fernkettle" emblazoned across the middle of the garment. Breathing heavily she quickly gained the attention of Thomas Boycott, who had shaved his moustache and placed a white hanky on his head, and asked why the smock was embroidered with her surname.

Thomas Boycott stared back at Elizabeth and asked her woe old she was. She quickly answered that she was sixteen and from a poor home in  a village a few miles from Otley.
Thomas Boycott fell back a couple of paces and reached for a pitcher of ale that was on the table adjacent to the fire.

He drowned the contents of the pitcher in good time and wiping the froth from his moustache gestured at Elizabeth to come towards him.

He quietly and quickly explained that when he was a younger man he had injured himself when leaving a hostelry in Otley and was the unfortunate victim of a monstrous woman who went by the name of Ernestine Monkfish.

  He had managed to escape her clutches by arranging for his own false death after coming to an arrangement with the Rent Collector, who had reasons to be alone with the outrageous Monkfish woman.
A relation of Ernestine Monkfish

After a fee paid by way of a couple of foot rubs and toe sucks, the Rent Collector had agreed to stand as a witness to the local coroners court to confirm that he had found the dead body of Nathaniel Fernkettle, and that his body was lost by being swept away in the local river.

Nathaniel had then left the village under cover of darkness and settled in Leeds after renewing his fathers trade of barrel making and inn keeping.  He never forgot the daughter he had left behind, and insisted that his new wife, who had subsequently died of typhoid, changed her name to Elizabeth Fernkettle after his beloved lost daughter.
Thus the garment now covering the emaciated shriveled body of Elizabeth Fernkettle was embroidered with her own name, and the large inn keeper standing in front of her was her father.

To be continued in due course..................................













Saturday 12 January 2013

A SHORT HISTORY OF TURDOXIANISM AND BOHEMEISM

A SHORT HISTORY OF TURDOXIANISM AND BOHEMEISM
There are many myths concerning the growth of the Turdoxian cult and the earlier origins of the Bohemian creed.

However, there is only one true story to tell, and this text contains the truthful account of the rise and fall of these once great religious bodies.

We must start amid the marshy plains and the water cress filled  river Glade at Croxley Green, sometime in the fourth century, at a time of great change throughout the Lands that have evolved to become England. 

At this time the Roman Legions were rapidly retreating from their fortified encampments throughout England, from ports such as Dover and Portsmouth. Their place was being taken by our glorious forefathers, the Saxons, Angles and Jutes from the Northern European regions of Jutland, Friesure and Saxony. 



One of the Barbarian invaders was known by the name “ Ooncolas Boheimannicus “ who has been known to many over the years by his anglicised name of “UNCLE BOHEIM” .

Uncle Boheim was a great leader and his band of heathen followers were known as “ Turdoxianticattisites “ due to the fresh turds that were worn round their necks as they went in to Battle . This name has also evolved and is now “TURDOXIAN”.

We must now jump forward until 1975 when the Reverent J R Gates and Lord S J Hookens began to spread the word that Uncle Boheim was indeed still with us, and that we must fight the evil that had infected the Turdoxian creed.

It became a daily occurrence to be asked "are you Turdoxian or Bohemian ?" as you passed through the North Wembley or Sudbury streets.

Reverent Gates was a failed recidivist and known junky with delusions of grandeur, believing that he was David Bowie’s clone, with a haircut that attempted to put the "Greenie" in The Gene Genie. 

He had hooked up with S J Hookens whilst allegedly looking for drugs at Alperton School in 1970 and together they represented the hardcore of Bohemianism.


Their zeal to recruit was assisted by The Honorable D Buckland , a spider web elbowed Greaser who continued to wear the evangelical robes of Boheim until a moves to Peterborough and Kent dented his enthusiasm. 

Future converts include the Pauliticus Slippery Baxtorian the elder, an acorn headed Saxon with  tourets syndrome.
To be continued in due course. 
 
 

Wednesday 9 January 2013

MIND MANAGEMENT AND THE ARCHIPELAGO OF HOPE

 MIND MANAGEMENT AND THE ARCHIPELAGO OF HOPE 

"Ray the Dust" and "Driver Chard" have outraged the membership of the "Duck Flat Cap Society" by announcing that they propose to denounce former military hard man "Basher Hurley", as morally corrupt.

Basher Hurley has recently recovered from a quintuple heart bypass operation and the successful prosecution of an enemy agent, who after masquerading as his dusky lover, inflicted actual bodily harm to his genital area and skull. 

Ray the Dust and Driver Chard contend that the recent court proceedings have dragged the good name of the Duck Flat Cap Society through the gutter, mortally debasing the society and its members.

Ray the Dust, a morbidly overweight failed karaoke singer and former part time dust cart operative, has also enlisted the support of his diminutive medicine ball shaped colleague "Pepe Le Puke", together with that of the societies in house carpenter and ale distributor, Micky "Good Boy" Ince. 

This group of inebriate protesters have pushed the silver haired Driver Chard to the forefront in their quest to denounce Basher Hurley.  Driver Chard has risen to this clarion call with a robust speech proclaiming that the societies military wing has been weakened by the recent sexual escapades of the self proclaimed "Falklands veteran", and the subsequent court proceedings resulting from the brutal beating he received from his dusky former mistress. 

 
This speech was delivered with such vim and vigour that the older members of the society were drawn to memories of Enoch Powell and his "Rivers of Blood" speech together with furtive recollections of Her Adolf Hitler ranting about Lebensraum at Nuremberg and the Reichsparteitagsgelände.

 Indeed, Driver Chard was in need of medical treatment and manual resuscitation after his outburst and was unable to find his false teeth until "Bazzer Duck" handed them back three days later.

Driver Chard has purchased, in the name of the protesting faction of the Society, a full page advert to appear in both the Wealdstone Gleaner and the Belmont Observer. 
The advert details the charges against Basher Hurley, together with previously unseen photographs of  the former military hard man in compromising positions involving a dusky nurse in full national health regalia, flat cap, a Churchill cigar,  a high heel shoe and a bottle of champagne.  


The remainder of the  Duck Flat Cap Societies membership are split as to the authentic nature of the charges levelled at the former military hard man.

 However, his northern ally "Dave the Teach", has confirmed his allegiance to his lancastrian brother, and has agreed to act as his standard bearer whilst fighting the brazen allegations against his morality and  good standing amongst fellow flat cap wearers.

A full  meeting of the procrastination and imbibing sub committee will take place shortly and full details will be published here in due course.

R.I.P   JOHN CHARD 1933 - 2020