Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
I love how he was in an 'inner-city coffee shop' to justify the presence of black people in a coffee shop.

I wonder if he initially typed 'ghetto coffee shop' and stared at it for a full minute before changing it.

coffeeshoplols.jpg
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
Stink hits darts grand slam as match features flatulent end - https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2...ts-grand-slam-as-match-features-flatulent-end

The world of professional darts has been rocked by two players accusing each other of repeatedly breaking wind during a match. Gary Anderson of Scotland and the Dutchman Wesley Harms blamed each other for “rotten” farts during their clash in the Gland Slam of Darts.

Anderson, who has twice been the world champion, won the match 10-2 to earn a place in the quarter-finals of the competition. But in a post-match interview Harms said his poor form was due to Anderson breaking wind on stage and leaving a “fragrant smell”. He went further while speaking to Dutch TV station RTL7L: “It’ll take me two nights to lose this smell from my nose.”

When Anderson in turn laid the blame at Harms’s door, the Dutchman responded: “If the boy [Anderson] thinks I’ve farted he’s 1010% wrong. I swear on my children’s lives that it was not my fault. I had a bad stomach once on stage before and admitted it. So I’m not going to lie about farting on stage.”


Anderson, the world No 4, hit back with extraordinary detail about the smell he blamed on Harms. “It definitely came from table-side and it was eggs, rotten eggs, but not from me,” Anderson said. Every time I walked past there was a waft of rotten eggs so that’s why I was thinking it was him. It definitely wasn’t me.

“It was bad. It was a stink, then he started to play better and I thought he must have needed to get some wind out. If somebody has done that they need to see a doctor. Seemingly he says it was me but I would admit it.”

Anderson has admitted to farting on stage in the past, though was clear that has “never used it as an advantage”.
 

Corpsey

call me big papa
From my first diary (age: 17), without apparent irony: "I can't write good punk songs. It does my head in, but I'm sure I'll get my head around it. Anyway, I just remembered to find my Zero 7 CD."
 

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
Steak for dinner last night. As I'm bringing the plates through, Mrs. Tea says "Can you bring the mustard?"

So, inevitably:

IF YA WANT BEEF THEN BRING THE MUSTARD,
WU-TANG CLAN AINT NUTTIN TA FUCK WID!


which actually rhymes better than the original lyric.
 
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