At Home With Lady Furnish & Sir £lton of John – Part I

24 May

DISCLAIMER – I am over 18 and all that.

7.am alarm……

Morning £lton…

 

Don’t fucking ‘morning’ me you gangly, big nosed wap.  I can see it’s the fucking ‘morning’ …….. cunt….

 

Oh, who’s a grumbly wumbly £lton today?  Shall I get you a cup of tea?….

 

Tea, fucking tea!  Fucking tea me.  Do you know who I am?  I’m Sir  £lton fucking John, that’s who.  And who the fuck are you anyway….. twat…..  If it wasn’t for me you’d have nothing you fucking money grabbing cunt….. Fucking tea….. Of fucking course I want fucking tea……. Cock…..

£lton rolled unceremoniously out of bed like an oversize potato, slipped his veiny feet into his morning slippers and waddled over to the dressing table to put his hair back on the right way round……

Well, who’s fucking arse have I got to grovel up to promote the “£lton loves love songs more than he loves himself” fucking album….. twat…..

 

Now, what have I told £lton not to do?  Yes, that’s right.  Don’t get so stressed out or you might have a cardiac arrest and die and then I’ll have to spend all of that fortune you’ve amassed with your cheesy songs.

 

Fucking fortune, cunt, I’d rather leave it to my fucking poodle than you, you lanky, money grabbing twat……. Vile pig……

 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door?…….

Tune in to find out what happens next at the pink fluffy palace……

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