Wednesday, 10 October 2012

COOKING UP A CAR BOOT








You can strike it rich sometimes and fuck off round the world or you can duck and dive with the rest of us trying to make a few quid. That said we decided to have a an impromptu car boot on the farm last Sunday and to be fair I had quite a lot of junk that I wanted to shift.

So me an Ermantrude clubbed together and pitched in as the farm opened up a field to bargain hunters, collectors and people with too much stuff in their lives.

It was an interesting occasion and most of the farm staff had a stall. I intend to share with you some of the highlights of the day….

Frank The Peacock had somehow got hold of a batch of 1920’s dresses. He plucked some feathers from his own bad ass to attach to them for a ‘unique selling point’. He got good money for them but wouldn’t stop complaining the whole time about how sore his ass was after he’d mutilated his identity for a quick buck. A peacock without peacock feathers is simply a cock to me. And…That’s the last time I’m lending him my fucking Sodocrem! I gave it to him before I knew he’d be rubbing it all over his ass. It’s just fucking wrong.

The reverend B.S Jenson-Clarke Had a stall of cacti. I think he was doing this just to prove a point as he got word that I exposed his bum feltching ways last week. He must of spent loads on the stock. Mind you they shifted well. Although the fucking gimp had to prove a point by strategically laying two rocks either side of each cactus. Damn right awful behaviour for a man of the cloth. Speaking of cloth though, I doubt he has capacity to ever touch it, reckon he must have an ass looser than an Eatonian!

TopGunKes had a stall too. You would think she would be selling air craft components – the sort of memorabilia real enthusiasts go for, judging by her military connexions… but oh no, she’d clubbed in with fucking Handsome James and got hold of a load of knock off Yankee Candles. Fuck knows where they got of them, but Handsome James tried to convince me that the new ‘Tiger Balm’ variant was authentic and not a load of that weird shit that you get from India stuffed into a used Yankee Candle jar. Honestly, I dread to think what goes on in that guys mind.

Dave The Piercer was selling a load of bric-a-brac. Well someone had to step up to the car boot stereotype of selling complete shite. He had adorned a cream jacket and pale trilby too, and was selling his wears out the back of a 1980’s Peugeot estate. This guy had done his research! Nice one Dave you fucking bender, good work. His commitment paid off when he managed to convince a little Chinese boy that a Kinder Egg Tiny Terrapin from 1993 was in fact made by that famous Soviet jeweller Karl Faberge. Conned the poor little twat out of five hundred grand! Didn’t last long though, soon gave it back when he found out the kids dad was in the tri ads. Or was it the free ads – maybe that was his mum? Fuck knows. But after that he still managed to clear his pitch fee.

Matt the farmer was selling toy tractors > Standard.

The busiest stall was by far Camille Black’s. She’s riding a wave at the moment after winning my beef jerky competition. She’s a bichcunt but you got to give her some respect as some of the stuff she had managed to source was incredible…. Proper quirky curios and such. It pains me to say it but good work Camille.

Pickles The Pigeon was selling a load of home made stuff. Fucking Jesus it stank and the samples tasted like death itself. Turns out he’s been suffering from acute madness! Reckons he keeps hearing voices in his head muttering the number 31…. Weird. On closer inspection he had actually cooked up a load crystal meth. God knows where he had learned to become a chemist, I tried to tell him that this shit will do him no good, but he went to say that crystal meth is the only thing that cancels out the voices. I feel for you man! Fight those demons…and let me know when you do your next meth cook.

And finally we have Cut ‘n’ Paste Wayne’s effort. Where do I start?!

Cut ‘n’ Paste decided to live up to his nick name and do a comic stall. He was looking to cash in on the resurgence of this popular story telling medium. The only problem was instead of actually getting rare or vintage comics to sell, he had put a load of his old colouring in books together and was trying to pass them off as rare pilot first editions. He said they were from his childhood and tipped me a wink. Buuuuuullshiiiiiiiit > like they had Ben Ten when we were young you fool!


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