The "General Games Chat" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
I Watched a docu on C4 last night featuring the aforementioned and although I was lashed the following highlights can be presented for your delectation:
One ugly, gawky looking gangrel of a man was recruiting Mud Wrestlers to demean and humiliate themselves in pubs. About eight of society’s outcasts turned up and proceeded to roll around in a paddling pool filled with mud. Most wore simple thongs. Most were hideous creations spawned in slurry pit somewhere where the gene pool had been mutated by toxic chemicals.
Mr Ug and stupid bint then get the gig and wrestle each other in a pub full of p*ssed up beermonsters. They are professional enough to have a “stop word” should anything go wrong which is “carrot”. Hilariously stupid bint suggests that “celery” would also be a good word. Stick to the mud larking miss.
Mr Ug then introduces us to his bird, who would have to be regarded as very ugly, even people from Latvia would call her “Ugger”. She thinks that it is normal for him to have a hobby and points out that many blokes play football and so on.
Mr Ug then goes to a complete stranger’s place to wrestle him in a small ditch in a field at the back of his house. The ditch is covered in tarpaulin and both combatants cover themselves with baby oil, which duly seeps into their g-strings. The stranger, whom is gay, seems to revel in the physical contact and Mr Ug does too. Later when he is talking to his bird about his wrestling he claims that the bloke kept touching him up.
Finally the denouement is upon us. Mr Ug and Mrs Ug are buying some custard to fill a paddling pool with. They buy 10 packets worth and one can full. Mr Ug is set to wrestle stupid bint again but this time in his own back garden, for fun. As Ms Ug is making the custard she makes a comment that many girls may find the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard, a trifle odd. He overhears this and starts telling her that his love for her is everything and that the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard is “nuffink compared to what we got”.
Stupid bint arrives and lo and behold the Ugs have only got enough custard to fill two saucepans, but not a paddling pool. Also Mr Ug had promised Stupid Bint that they were going to wrestle in jelly but he couldn’t get it up, to the required amount so they reverted to custard.
She stormed off, her mum who had come to watch her daughter wrestle someone in a paddling pool filled with custard in front of his girlfriend, in front of TV cameras, said that she hated custard.
In the end they wrestled.
Humanity had failed me again and I cried myself to sleep.
One ugly, gawky looking gangrel of a man was recruiting Mud Wrestlers to demean and humiliate themselves in pubs. About eight of society’s outcasts turned up and proceeded to roll around in a paddling pool filled with mud. Most wore simple thongs. Most were hideous creations spawned in slurry pit somewhere where the gene pool had been mutated by toxic chemicals.
Mr Ug and stupid bint then get the gig and wrestle each other in a pub full of p*ssed up beermonsters. They are professional enough to have a “stop word” should anything go wrong which is “carrot”. Hilariously stupid bint suggests that “celery” would also be a good word. Stick to the mud larking miss.
Mr Ug then introduces us to his bird, who would have to be regarded as very ugly, even people from Latvia would call her “Ugger”. She thinks that it is normal for him to have a hobby and points out that many blokes play football and so on.
Mr Ug then goes to a complete stranger’s place to wrestle him in a small ditch in a field at the back of his house. The ditch is covered in tarpaulin and both combatants cover themselves with baby oil, which duly seeps into their g-strings. The stranger, whom is gay, seems to revel in the physical contact and Mr Ug does too. Later when he is talking to his bird about his wrestling he claims that the bloke kept touching him up.
Finally the denouement is upon us. Mr Ug and Mrs Ug are buying some custard to fill a paddling pool with. They buy 10 packets worth and one can full. Mr Ug is set to wrestle stupid bint again but this time in his own back garden, for fun. As Ms Ug is making the custard she makes a comment that many girls may find the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard, a trifle odd. He overhears this and starts telling her that his love for her is everything and that the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard is “nuffink compared to what we got”.
Stupid bint arrives and lo and behold the Ugs have only got enough custard to fill two saucepans, but not a paddling pool. Also Mr Ug had promised Stupid Bint that they were going to wrestle in jelly but he couldn’t get it up, to the required amount so they reverted to custard.
She stormed off, her mum who had come to watch her daughter wrestle someone in a paddling pool filled with custard in front of his girlfriend, in front of TV cameras, said that she hated custard.
In the end they wrestled.
Humanity had failed me again and I cried myself to sleep.
Dad always said he'd make it on TV
That is some weird people...
Rather intersting. Im glad they do it though. It makes me feel superior.
Rather intersting. Im glad they do it though. It makes me feel superior.
They live in Romford too.
I feel sorry for CJG or whoever it is who lives in Romford.
I gladly have nothing to do with Romford anymore.
I feel sorry for CJG or whoever it is who lives in Romford.
I gladly have nothing to do with Romford anymore.
Hahahaha.
Can you find where I cocked up a copy and paste?
I Watched a docu on C4 last night featuring the aforementioned and although I was lashed the following highlights can be presented for your delectation:
One ugly, gawky looking gangrel of a man was recruiting Mud Wrestlers to demean and humiliate themselves in pubs. About eight of society’s outcasts turned up and proceeded to roll around in a paddling pool filled with mud. Most wore simple thongs. Most were hideous creations spawned in slurry pit somewhere where the gene pool had been mutated by toxic chemicals.
Mr Ug and stupid bint then get the gig and wrestle each other in a pub full of p*ssed up beermonsters. They are professional enough to have a “stop word” should anything go wrong which is “carrot”. Hilariously stupid bint suggests that “celery” would also be a good word. Stick to the mud larking miss.
Mr Ug then introduces us to his bird, who would have to be regarded as very ugly, even people from Latvia would call her “Ugger”. She thinks that it is normal for him to have a hobby and points out that many blokes play football and so on.
Mr Ug then goes to a complete stranger’s place to wrestle him in a small ditch in a field at the back of his house. The ditch is covered in tarpaulin and both combatants cover themselves with baby oil, which duly seeps into their g-strings. The stranger, whom is gay, seems to revel in the physical contact and Mr Ug does too. Later when he is talking to his bird about his wrestling he claims that the bloke kept touching him up.
Finally the denouement is upon us. Mr Ug and Mrs Ug are buying some custard to fill a paddling pool with. They buy 10 packets worth and one can full. Mr Ug is set to wrestle stupid bint again but this time in his own back garden, for fun. As Ms Ug is making the custard she makes a comment that many girls may find the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard, a trifle odd. He overhears this and starts telling her that his love for her is everything and that the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard is “nuffink compared to what we got”.
Stupid bint arrives and lo and behold the Ugs have only got enough custard to fill two saucepans, but not a paddling pool. Also Mr Ug had promised Stupid Bint that they were going to wrestle in jelly but he couldn’t get it up, to the required amount so they reverted to custard.
She stormed off, her mum who had come to watch her daughter wrestle someone in a paddling pool filled with custard in front of his girlfriend, in front of TV cameras, said that she hated custard.
In the end they wrestled.
Humanity had failed me again and I cried myself to sleep.
One ugly, gawky looking gangrel of a man was recruiting Mud Wrestlers to demean and humiliate themselves in pubs. About eight of society’s outcasts turned up and proceeded to roll around in a paddling pool filled with mud. Most wore simple thongs. Most were hideous creations spawned in slurry pit somewhere where the gene pool had been mutated by toxic chemicals.
Mr Ug and stupid bint then get the gig and wrestle each other in a pub full of p*ssed up beermonsters. They are professional enough to have a “stop word” should anything go wrong which is “carrot”. Hilariously stupid bint suggests that “celery” would also be a good word. Stick to the mud larking miss.
Mr Ug then introduces us to his bird, who would have to be regarded as very ugly, even people from Latvia would call her “Ugger”. She thinks that it is normal for him to have a hobby and points out that many blokes play football and so on.
Mr Ug then goes to a complete stranger’s place to wrestle him in a small ditch in a field at the back of his house. The ditch is covered in tarpaulin and both combatants cover themselves with baby oil, which duly seeps into their g-strings. The stranger, whom is gay, seems to revel in the physical contact and Mr Ug does too. Later when he is talking to his bird about his wrestling he claims that the bloke kept touching him up.
Finally the denouement is upon us. Mr Ug and Mrs Ug are buying some custard to fill a paddling pool with. They buy 10 packets worth and one can full. Mr Ug is set to wrestle stupid bint again but this time in his own back garden, for fun. As Ms Ug is making the custard she makes a comment that many girls may find the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard, a trifle odd. He overhears this and starts telling her that his love for her is everything and that the prospect of their blokes wrestling another woman in a paddling pool filled with custard is “nuffink compared to what we got”.
Stupid bint arrives and lo and behold the Ugs have only got enough custard to fill two saucepans, but not a paddling pool. Also Mr Ug had promised Stupid Bint that they were going to wrestle in jelly but he couldn’t get it up, to the required amount so they reverted to custard.
She stormed off, her mum who had come to watch her daughter wrestle someone in a paddling pool filled with custard in front of his girlfriend, in front of TV cameras, said that she hated custard.
In the end they wrestled.
Humanity had failed me again and I cried myself to sleep.