=#0080BFRead a few lines from’ It ain’t happening’: The 5th Big Nige’ Cock up...
Published by Uttercrap.UK
ISBN 07102014-2021
©SteelCityBull

It must have been all those extra double helpings of [iChicken Madras[/i thought Nige as he glanced at the alarm clock. Good, I’ve still got another hour before I need to get up. He smirked to himself as he recalled the additional clause he’d included in OK’s agreement when purchasing [iBradford Bulls[/i that gave him and Solly free meals for life in that little eatery he owned – It was a master stroke and he was determined to take full advantage of it.

It was going to be a testing day and not a particularly enjoyable one, he mused. At 10 o’clock he had an appointment with [iRobbie Paul[/i or whatever he called himself these days at [iOdsal Stadium[/i. They needn’t think that they were going to get it back anytime soon; he’d make sure of that, at least until they had the funds to create a transformation of that bloody tip, he thought!

His mind wandered back to the lurid dream that had left him drenched and spent. It seemed so real at the time – god, he wished it had have been. He’d been unable to get [iCheryl Fernandez –Versini[/i out of his head since he’d had the idea to hire her to be the ‘turn’ at Old Trafford at the weekend. Of course it was his idea, his [iexistentialism[/i was akin to Marcel or Sartre but that’s where any examples of great thinking ended. In fact, it was also his idea to ask Cheryl’s agent if that money included a night of passion with said lady and he’d decided to break the bank when he was informed it did - due entirely to the fact that Cheryl had harboured a major crush on ‘big Nige’ for a long time now.

It had all started at a ‘fundraiser’ in Halifax a few years ago when Cheryl was ‘caught short’ on her way to a gig up north. She passed though the function room just as the M.C was auctioning off a pair of [iNigel Wood’s underpants[/i – his most favoured pair, with the picture of a [iNarwhal[/i on the front – oh! how he loved to make that tusk come to life when he went for a wee! She just couldn’t resist them and eventually won the prize with an offer of 5 quid and two [iHB Pencils[/i that she’d liberated from her hotel room in Stoke. She wanted Nige to sign the garment, who knows she thought, it may be a sound investment for the future.

Now, aware the of the alarm chirping in the background he hung on to the dream – Cheryl had agreed to accompany him to the Owlerton Greyhound Stadium in Sheffield – Nige loved [idogging[/i even more than Greggs Pasties and with Cheryl on his arm, well, could it get any better – maybe dogging amongst [ithe figtrees in the Alameda gardens[/i would run a close second......


Due out Jan 2015 ‘Pass the tissue’s please’ The 6th Big Nige Cock up...

I am of course reading them, and it's fair to say that rarely has my flabber been so gasted, but the judging itself will be done by the Man Booker International jury as a warm up for their lesser event.

This author is beyond psychiatric help. Do Not Publish!

At my school any lad soft enough to write stories, poems or essays was rightly given a kicking. As I am indelibly scarred by that experience I need someone with an arty BGS background to do some ghost writing for me. Do you know anyone?

Meh. How many excuses is that now? You're just a lazy bone idle count. Your captain should have words.

If you had one of course ...

I presume Debaser would have told us by now if he can't do prose on an Ipad?

Oh, he's working on a much more ingenious excuse than that. I'm thinking of making Excuses Why I Can't Do That a separate comedy category next year.

You can't rush genius.

No point in having a deadline and then getting it done early.

I have composed a poem.
It is entitled:

[uThe figtrees in the Alameda gardens[/u


Bradford Bulls, stampeding onwards
Towering Odsal Stadium, their home, as wide as
Nigel Wood's underpants yet beautiful like
Cheryl Fernandez-Versini, whoever she may be.


at once fragile, like a paper aeroplane,
dogging, swooping and soaring skywards,
they undertake a transformation, by an invisible hand,
as two doors open, one more closes
once a temple to chicken madras,
now led by the king, Robbie Paul,
no room for satanic rites, or ventriloquism,
just the periodic table of emotion and existentialism
like a Narwhal resting


on HB pencils.


I thank you.

Goodnight.

f*** me what have i been missing as I've slaved away on the 2015 squad stats...

The unbearable lightness of bulling.

several likes all around.

That just has to go down as one of the all-time similes. You could only get this on RAB

Something I knocked together at morning prayers.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with Cheryl Fernandez-Versini, and the Word was dogging. He was in the beginning with Cheryl. All things were made through her, and without her was not anything made that was a transformation. In her was a Narwhal and HB pencils. The light shines in the Nigel Wood's underpants , and the chicken madras has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from Cheryl, whose name was Robbie Paul. He came as a witness in a paper aeroplane, to bear witness about the satanic rites at Odsal Stadium, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.

The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world through two doors. He was in the figtrees in the Alameda gardens, and the world was made through an invisible hand, yet the world did not know him. He came to Bradford Bulls, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become a ventriloquist, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of the periodic table,

And the Word became existentialism.

The End.

This is emotional.

I know. It's my poem. I'm not surprised it makes you cry.

This thread could be RAB's finest hour

Even if bullseye simply copies the set of keywords ebola will have all submitted something.

speaking of that I saw on twitter yesterday that the footballer Adebola genuinely was so inundated with wags asking if he "ad ebola" that he tweeted he was fine but thanker everyones for their concern.

=#FF0000[size=150RAB FACTOR 2 - THE RESULTS[/size

So the RAB Factor is over for another year, but what a sensational last round.
The Jury has returend the following scores:

=#0000BFPumpetypump ... 12
debaser ... 11
Steel City Bull ... 10
tigertot ... 9
thepimp007 ... 8

So first of all, the individual awards -

=#FF4040[size=1501st Pumpetypump ... 31.2[/size
2nd debaser ... 24.6
3rd Steel City Bull ... 22.7

But, it is a Team Competition and so I am pleased to announce that the final standings in RAB Factor II are :-









[size=1501st Team EBOLA ... 44.2

2nd Team SJS ... 33.775

3rd Team MOLC ... 31[/size

... and I hereby declare the winners of RAB FACTOR 2 are ... [size=200=#FF0000TEAM EBOLA ![/size




Thanks to all for taking part.

I am humbled by my monumental success. Not only as individual supreme overlord but as captain of my wonderful team ebola. Well done team and well done fa for giving us the opportunity.

*bursts into tears*

Well done captain. I knew you had it in you.
And what a sensational last round for the Ebola, we came from nowhere to take over the world....

Bsatards.

You've proven that even people with a disability (iPad) can make something of themselves. Well done little buddy.

Well done team.


No thanks to me!

It's alright, we understand you were too busy begging on the streets so you could afford your RAB sponsorship.

Refresh your memories of what a jolly jape we had..

Individual RAB Factor I Champion went to Lucky Luke
The Final Individual contestant standings were:

Lucky Luke 69
bullinenemyland 59
Terrace singer 42.1
broadybull87 18
thepimp007 16
tigertot 15
mystic eddie 11
debaser 10.4
Pumpetypump 10
bobsmyuncle 2
Blotto 0.1
dddooommm 0


Probably the only thing I have achieved in my life. Never got a prize...