Think of every band that you can think of, plus Big Country.
Bretwalda of the Angli. Generous host of the Mead Hall Lord of Wülferhampton. Please use your Gods responsibly. Hinc videre possum domum tuam.
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Think of every band that you can think of, plus Big Country.
How many legs does a bird have? I'll give you a clue. IT'S. NOT. FUCKING. SIX!
Tonight on the Mead Hall menu (top table only) ham wrapped, cheese stuffed chicken, and asparagus * Lower tables. Spam wrapped spam with spam Vegetarian/vegan option. Sanctimony Scraps and scrapings by the leper gate as ever * Because piss my piss is meant to smell like that?
Is he dead yet?
Why would I plunder a priest?
A new thread. Band t shirts that no longer fit. Episode one.
Only a fool fails to study his enemies.
@benaaronovitch.bsky.social take note.
Your Bretwalda reviews. Murderbot. The books. Loved em. £5.99 for a novella though? Fuck that.
Apparently it's #GingerCatAppreciationDay, so appreciate this bastard.
Dictionary? Is this like some gay porn jackanory?
Used sock puppets to attack accounts that called out his bullshit, liked to target women I seem to recall. Proper twat.
Fair?
Statement from the Office of the Bretwalda. Wülferhampton has no duty executioner. Why would such a benign and enlightened realm need one? Besides. When it comes to dispensing justice, your beloved Bretwalda believes in the personal touch. That is all.
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If you strike me down, thousands shall rise in my place, they said. Possibly, but you'll still be dead, I said.
The returning officer is alive and well and can be found, as ever, in the oubliette, behind the dragon.
Pass me the extra long nails and the medium weight mallet, please.
We did. I voted.
Actually. Yes.
YOU. DON. GET. TO. VOTE!
Dear deluded folk of Wülferhampton. Just so we're clear. You don't get to vote. Ever. #Election25
This is wrong.
FFS!
Never.
It's regime can't exist unless it wins an election It's not invited to. Which it isn't. You gotta love democracy.
Does it?
youtu.be/TnzFRV1LwIo?...
It's what Darwin would have wanted.
Why yes. Yes it is.
Did I miss this bit in Bible studies?
I got bored writing your name.
No fetured presentation tonight, subject as ever to approval by @colken.bsky.social, as I'm three quarters cut. So I'm planning to fall asleep through The best Exotic Marigold Hotel.
I. HAVEN'T!
DON'T. TALK. TO. ME. OF. BADGES!
Read the heavily armed room Rach.
No.
Congratulations. You have been added to the list of the almost dead.
Ears? Eyelids?
I fully expect to vote for myself, which will give me 100%+ of the available votes. So. No. Unless something happens to Teddy.
What duck?
Heavy is the head, etc, etc....
I refer the right honourable and scabious gentlerat to clause 207.432 of the constitution of Wülferhampton* which clearly states that 'no fucking tree rat shall be allowed never the leavers of governance' *totally didn't just make that up.
Yes. I have prominent and incredibly powerful mandibles. Your point?
Early days, but some changes to the Wülferhampton electoral role are being suggested. 1. Only avowed citizens of Wülferhampton may apply to register to vote. 2. Being an avowed citizen of Wülferhampton automatically disbarrs you from voting. For more info, visit gofuckoffanddie@wūlferhamton.gov
Not until November. When it will.
Driving through Droitwich today, I saw some lads erectile* flag raising. You shouldn't mock the afflicted, but it's totally cool to mock the gormless and the gumless who don't understand how ladders work, nor the symbolism of raising every single flag at half staff. *not a typo.
This.
A new poster for your Bretwalda's reelection campaign just dropped.
Curaçao.
BBQ Beef flavoured hoola hoops?
Happy Mondayeve to all you non retired folk out there.
Rubbish. I wouldn't be seen dead in that shirt.
#ShitBirdPhotos
Tonight on the Mead Hall menu (top table only) fat pork chops with roast tatties, sage n onion stuffing, seasonal veg, Yorkist pudds, and a gravy thick enough to slice. Lower tables. Spam chopped. Vegetarian/Vegan option. Fresh(ish) nowt. Scraps and scrapings by the leper gate as ever.
[prints off @themeadhallbard.bsky.social's avi]
I tried this, and now I'm banned from the allotments.
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Sunnandæg.
That Soviet era joke about obituaries.
My Samurai death poem. Death? Fuck that. Something about Feathers. Fuck off. Pricks.
Pervert. [saves pictures to private browser]
Sit down? Like a woman? Or a monk? Would that work?
On behalf of all men everywhere. I'd like to apologise. We don't mean to piss on the mat, but sometimes we do. It's not deliberate. It's hydrolics. If you doubt me, try watering a garden with a variable flow hose. Yes. I pissed on mat. Again.
I haven't burnt you yet. I'm not saying it's not an option I'm considering. I'm just saying I haven't done it. Yet.
So Maria, my suicidal dog groomer, just texted me that she has an opening tomorrow, rather than the two weeks, hence, as previously agreed. The Attack Womble of Death remains ignorant of his fate. For now.
I like Ian. He does eggs and yoghurts too.
I don't think they were from Peckham Rachel.
Who is that? Is that Ian? He delivers our milk. Is that Ian?
Tonight's future presentation, subject as ever to approval by @colken.bsky.social, stars my left foot, my haircut from the eighties, Wes Studi burying an axe, Fenton but with a long rifle, lacrosse, a scene ripped right outta Jeremiah Johnson and the stars being milk from from someone's tits.
Ixnay on the duckway.
Mr Pip dines at the top table.
Don't mention the duck. I did, but I think I got away with it.
I, too, enjoy Chinese foods.
Tonight on the Mead Hall menu (top table only) THE CHINESE FOODS! Lower tables. Spam chow mein. Vegetarian/vegan option. Duck spring rolls* Scraps and scrapings by the leper gate as ever. *may contain ducks.
And now for the classified kickball results Massey Fergusons 2 - Foulham 0 Manchurian candidates 3 - We didn't burn him 2 Scumderland 2 - Brentford Nylons 1 Harry Hotspur 0 - Jason Bourne 1 Wülferhampton Wanderers 2 - Dame Edna Everidge 3
These ageing apps are pretty good tbh.
#ShitBirdPhotos
I thought Watership Down was the saddest and most depressing thing I'd ever seen. And then someone sent me this.
If Trump is really ill, I sincerely hope he's being looked after by a witch doctor and a homeopath.
If it turns out to be true, I have an alibi.
An anthem updated.
Look at that. Qualified folk fighting over some bullshit I posted.
Current beard status. A slightly grumpier Ulysses S. Grant.
Do Chaffinches bounce?
One Soph? Just one?
Avon Caulin 
