I Am Not Called Iain
The streets of Bangor are ominously quiet this evening. The stench of public humiliation mixes with the sweet fragrance of female hormones gone awry. In many a home tonight, the ladies of the town lament my non-appearance at the Green Dragon Tavern. I sit here, waiting for the phone to ring. I’m sure there are powerful forces watching me work.
It would appear that the Chipster may have offended his famous namesake, Mr. Iain Dale (no relation). Now the world of Welsh exotic dancing is in turmoil and Gabby is crying in the corner of the room. She thinks this will have a bearing on her application to stay in the country. I just fear that I'll have to flog my collection of valuable thongs on eBay to fight a court case. What am I to do? Are the any lawyers out there who could tell me if I have a leg to stand on? And no, madam, *that* is not a leg. I am only a man in a thong. A big loveable man in a thong who never meant to hurt anybody.
Gabby, bless her little East European heart, says she’ll help smuggle me into Romania next time she goes there on tour with his sister, but I don’t know if I want to leave my wonderful Wales. Have you seen the quality of Romanian thongs? I’d rather rot in an English prison.
Looking at the design of my blog and that of Mr. Dale’s famous site, I was shocked to see some similarities. Coincidence follows me around so much. First there was this bloody facial resemblance I have to He Who Must Not Be Named, and now this! I’ve spoken to the cheap little bastard who built my webpage and he now admits that he was inspired by Britain’s top blogger. Knowing that I’m the country’s top Lib Dem stripper, he thought it a good idea to pay homage to a Tory blogger. What did he call it? Cross pollination? I could smell whisky on his breath. And he calls himself a Welshman!
I’ll have to sleep on this tonight. In the words of Julie Andrews: tomorrow’s just a thong away. Thanks for the support from those that emailed me. I’d just like to assure everybody that I’m no Iain Dale. Nor am I a sock puppet. And I am most certainly not somebody called Glyn Davies.
You can guess as long as you like but I am the real Crispen ‘Chip’ Dale. I just don't know for how much longer...
Thong on!
9 comments:
It's a bloody outrage that that tory y-front wearer has ripped off your blog (and in record time too), I think you SHOULD sue.
Oh, please Lobster! The Chipster wants to spread a message of peace and mutual understanding among all bloggers, great and small. If somebody wants to use my site as a model for their own, I don’t mind. The last thing I’d want to do is start another blog war.
The world is a sadder place with this ongoing feud between Bloggerheads and Guido. And I think we all know the cause… Too much tight underwear.
Thong on...
Hey Chipster, thanks to your kind words of peace I can now see it from another point of view.
It's a bloody outrage that that tory blogger has ripped off your y-fronts...
Only kidding, I'd never believe you could commit such an undergarment outrage.
after going thru the legal wrnagle with disney over the Chip n Dale characters, and the furniture house, this one will be like removing a double gussetted, sequinned thong to do a filthy ramirez. ie. easy
stay thong, brother
Chippy I was saddened to read that young Mr Dale was considering employing the'clunking fist' of the law against you. Set up a Goldenballs Fighting Fund to which many of your growing band of admirers will contribute. I don't have any spare thongs but would send all my old Y fronts.
Mr. Lobster: as a man used to thrusting his hips in some very unpleasant places, I've found it's always good to look at things from a fresh pineapple-scented perspective.
Ray: Disney have not right to my name. Delighted you're picking up the lingo. You too must stay thong and thong on...
Crackers: The threat of litigation has now disappeared but feel free to donate. Gabby is delighted that we might soon be getting some mail. She loves opening parcels and screaming in that high pitching banshee wail of hers. Y fronts would be acceptable. We always need extra dish clothes.
Now look here Chippy, I know nothing of this. I am an innocent who hasn't worn Y-fronts for nigh on 40 years. I am the real Glyn Davies, a Tory man of peace and goodwill. Someone may be mixing me up with Chris Bryant, MP for the Rhondda.
My dear Sir, I can only apologise for this terrible slur. People seem to think that I don’t exist, despite my every attempts to suggest otherwise, or they believe am I your good self.
Alas, I fear that your presence here will only add to the confusion and the conspiracy theories. I must also warn you that as much as I’ve been deluged with questions relating to the Welsh Assembly, you might find yourself having to deal with issues of significance only to the Chipster. May I offer you my best wishes and advise you to accept any request that only a high trained thongaleer is qualified to undertake.
PS.
I've just had the most terrible thought. I might actually be Chris Bryant.
Post a Comment