Parochial PlopsParochial Plops

Often, in the production of Shite, conversations need to be made by email between the Leeds and London authors. This intelligent discourse was started by Mike when we were turned down for 'cos some other fucker had beaten us to it.


An Email Conversation

Mike, Sarah - Duchess Of Yorkibar, Kate & Shim

Mike:   I'm going to form a new country called the United Parts. That way we can set up ".up" domains. Obviously we shall have www.shite.up but this also opens the opportunity for www.fuck.up, www.cock.up and www.balls.up

Do I win five pounds?

Duchess Sarah:   I would like to nominate www.shut.up, www.slap.up, www.fist.up, www.ank.up and www.fillme.up

Do I get 5p?



Kate:   How about:

Do I win a smack in the fanny?

Shim:   No. Because you'd have to start a country called "unexpected".

Don't you understand anything? Are you some kind of girl or something?

Kate:   I don't understand.

+++ time passes +++

Kate:   Well tell me then, you hook nosed twat.

Shim:   Watch it darling . . . I've been trying to get our web sites working again after everything fucked up bigtime.

means look for the file or directory "pile.up" on the server

Which means the top domain is "unexpected". Which means you'd need to be in charge of a country that called its top level domain "unexpected".

If you had left out the "//" bit, it would have been fine.

So don't try and be clever.

I've got a cold.
Well, a bit of a cold.
And I'm a bit peckish.

How are you?

Kate:   What the fuck are you on about, you poncey southern computer operating nancy?

P.S. Fine thankyou. Yourself?

Shim:   Like I said. Don't play with things you don't understand you ignorant, lard-fucking inbred shitface.

P.S. I'm very much looking forward to my cheese sandwich.

Kate:   Take your oversized Jewish fucking schnozzel and stick it up the greasy arse of an arab, you cunt-faced spam fancier.

P.S. I'm rather hungry myself, actually. Perhaps I'll have a cheese sandwich as well . . .

Shim:   I've had it up to here with you, you sloppy fannied, pissed up excuse for a whore.

P.S. I sorely miss the tuna rolls that they sell at the Union. The bread had delightful crusts with a most pleasing mayonnaise dressing on the succulent fish.

Kate:   Oh shove your pustulent 3 inch excuse for a knob up your mam's arse. If you can find it among all the hair.

P.S. I'm rather more partial to the egg and cress, but yes . . . the tuna is nice.

Shim:   I'd find it infinitely preferable than having it anywhere near your stagnant, wart infested crevice.

P.S. Are you planning anything nice for the bank holiday?

Kate:   Fuck off and die, Wank Handler.

(I know this isn't that offensive but it's my new insult and I think it's rather amusing)

I'm off now anyway, blossom. I'm starving. I want pizza. I might mail you tomorrow, but then again I might just blow it out of your arse, Arab Fancier.


P.S. Can you comprise a compendium of all those insults and forward it on to Mike? I think he'd appreciate it. You could end with this sentence. Yeah. This one, that would be weird! Hello Mike.

Parochial PlopsParochial Plops

Mike, Sarah (Duchess Of Yorkibar),
Kate & Shim - May 1999

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