Custard Sheep Dip

Custard sheep dip
Makes my wooly jumpers
Plumper like no other
Treacle goat nip
Gathers fluff for farmers
Under the drippy lip
Of Old MacDonald's mother

Down on the farm
We keep the blancmange
Soft and wobbly
Inside the charm bracelet
Not the knobbly
Tree stump where the jelly
Is hidden under felt
Wanting a new job
Like harvesting wellies

The Other Side

Do you remember the blackout- the smell of trench foot - the pulsating rhythyms of Gerlado and His Orchestra? Those were the days when comics were full of free gifts and only cost a penny. The Squirting Face Flannel- The Sticky Pink Biscuit - The Joke Ironing Board etc. Oh the hilarity. The playground was awash with tears of joy every Wednesday when the Beano and Dandy appeared ( or was it a Friday?). Anyway, awash it was. Jokes to fill a boys busby and giggles galore- enough for a bulging pocket of conkers or a bag of sherbet mice. Yes, the playground fun- the games! Hide The Leg- Dodge That Spit - Cough Up A Gobstopper.
Cigarette cards were my favourite. We used them as legal tender. Played "flickies" and swapped them for the sets we wanted. I was keen on Cricketers of Colonies and anything with drooling monsters like Wireless Stars of Yesteryear- Wilfred Pickles, Doris Chutney and Betty Piccalilly.

Tickling The Ivories

They laughed when I sat down at the piano but when I stated to play - they still laughed. But, after several hundred lessons with Prof. Stanislav Von Gerbilov I could tickle the ivories with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. I was invited to play at the most prestigious concert halls in the world and appeared on prime time television to the astonishment of all who knew me before I had my lessons.
The secret is in the ancient Gypsy art of crystal hedgenology, where by my fingers were pinned to the keyboard by clothes pegs dipped in a mysterious Gypsy ointment and the spirits of Liberace and Toscanini were called upon by the Head Fiddler.

Dilly

My old man said follow the van.

Hanks

Mongolese Lifters

Deep in the Mongolian rain forests the locals are busy lifting the woven totem poles for the yearly Festival of Tum. The poles weigh about half a ton each and the outcome is severely stretched limbs as seen in this authentic photo realisation. Using mohogony poles and steel weavings has taken it's toll over the years and now plans are afoot to make the poles from lighter material. Customs and superstition are hard to overcome though and the elders are reluctant to give the new proposals their blessing for fear of angering the Totem Pole spirits.

The Mail Art That Wouldn't Die

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Meanwhile , down at the inconvenience store Mrs. Trubpole was stacking her Spam tins in the window in a kind of lop-sided ziggerat to attract more customers, or so she thought. He left eye twitched spasmodically in time with the ticking cuckoo clock on the wall behind her. The last tin was placed on the pinnacle of Spamness. An audible gasp issued from her wrinkly mauve lips. She stood back to admire her handiwork and a fly buzzed past he left ear and settled in the tippy-top of the topmost can- it wobbled, and before she could bat a green eyelid the whole thing came crashing down around her ankles.

Later she was seen stickig up long curling twirls of sticky fly paper to get her revenge. She stood on tip toe on the top rung of the rickety step ladder and pushed in the last thumb tack which held the fly paper. The steps wobbled, a fly buzzed past her left ear and settled on the end of her purple nose. She attempted to brush it away with the box of thumb tacks she held in her left hand , forgetting the ladder was only balanced on one leg. The whole thing came crashing down and Mrs. Trubpole landing on the box of tacks and the steps landed on top of her. A mighty scream rent the air and all the sticky fly papers got twizzled in the gust of air and came spiralling down onto her big red angry face.

Horror Songs

Stilton Dreams

The sandwiches with the slurry squirt
Massed pots and puddings scrubbing with potatoes,
This shocking apparatus like a harpoon
Unnatural synthetic food whizz bobbin.
The camel became inflated "cow trees".
A finger nails silvered sausage and mash
A tapioca flings it's slotters to entomb
The doldrum light the sun's pale tooth pastes.
Raindrops made of compressed worms
Became warty, and contains nasty tanks.
Suddenly through the bristle and curious tongue
Appears, a spongonable bathing beach.
Before the collapse of vegetable debris..
A symbol of deliverence on the bottom.

Bob Wolf

And thus it was
Bob found a friend
Someone to talk to as they strode
For such a journey can be lonely
And as they walked they talked of black snow
They spoke of the cheap hotel room
And the tin trumpet used as a po

The moon was high
The stars were out
A shadow fell across the sky
Bob woke and felt a shiny tin thing
Poking in his thigh

The wind it whistled through the gaps
It whistled through the eaves
It whistled through the windows
And through the leafless trees
It whistled far and wide
It whistled more and more
But most of all it whistled
I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles
Through the keyhole in the door

Wasp Terror!

Giant killer wasps are the new scourge of the gardener. They come from the continent where they broke free from an experimental research facilty run by some mad Swiss scientists trying to cross hornets with scorpions. They are very much attracted to skimpy bathing costumes so gardeners are advised with wear shapeless cardigans and reinforced trousers tucked into diving boots.

Spaghetti Strings

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The spaghetti harvest is late this year due to the swarms of pasta fly that have been devastating the crops. Macaroni has suffered a similar fate. Thankfully the trees bearing the ravioli are higher up the mountain and the flies dont like heights.

Trapped!

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Can you help her escape?
Similar to that old urban myth of someone biting into a sausage and finding a tiny rolled up bit of paper and unrolling it discovering a hastily scrawled message which reads " Help - I'm a prisoner in a sausage factory and......" and the rest trails off into a spidery smudge.
Being a prisoner in a collage would be a bit like that only more so.

The Curse of Banana Bonce

I think Gerry the white alsation knew what was going on before anybody else - even his snail friend Nigel knew but Daphne was oblivious to the changes that were creeping over Derek that windy winter's night.

Unusual Holidays

Belgium

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Too much strong coffee can do this to you.
Ah, yes, Belgium - gem of the Northern Sea. I remember well my trip to a quaint fishing village near Antwerp and the giant squid that got caught in some net curtains in the window of a certain M. Masher Niblick. We chased it for several dasy in some steam driven wheelbarrows but it managed to escape into the folds of a huge pair of Flemish trousers worn my Arch Duke Nerdyfan III. Later it was seen travelling in the smoking compartment of an express train to Boulengerie.

Drama Murals

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Blakey Fiends

Il mouse dice che "i blakeys" hanno proprietà magiche e possono inserire nei vasi dell'inceppamento più meglio dei bolli. Il gatto sembra molto scettico dell'idea intera.

Let Your Widgets Do the Walking

A Merry Jingle!

Slotmeters!

A popular game from South London during the war years when infated bladders of pigs were hard to come by as they were called in for vital war work making barrage balloons and bouncy castles.
The "slotmeister" has seven seconds to pinion the slot by means of a "frummage iron" which they weald by means of a "flange grip". The "slotweiners" then have to dislodge the "glippy tile" from the apponents "vetch shaft" and score a "glipper" in the "fondue glupe". Its all but died out now, sadly, and can only be seen on certain "Slotty Days" near St. Mongers Eve, when the moon wanes and waxes at the same time. In it's dim light the players sometimes hang fluerescent flummox beans around their waists so they can be seen.

Also for sale this Christmas - the Jones Pudding Pulveriser, the Jones Chicken Stuffer and combined Mince Pie Rammer and the Jones Festive Yule Log Roller.

Privy Council

We are all gathered here today
To play some musical notes
On the big smiling instrument
Made from old ships buoys
Hand crafted in the sheds
Of old fisherfolk from driftwood
Casks and barrels
Bits of flotsam and jetsam
With the buzzing of insects
The chirping of birds
And the flush of the cistern

One Turn Of Crank Turns Every Tank

Squid and Pygmies

Decorated Tea Tray

Mail Art Machine!

A Leg End In His Own Lifetime

Ali Basham's Eyeball

Xavier Brick worked mainly in folded coils of cheap grime and occasionally a long felt want. His unique art comes from a morbid fear of egg cups and unearthly weng. When a child he was frightened by a portrait of Sybil Thorndyke which hung in his father's wardrobe. Since this time he has made over 23,000 drawings and 18,000 etchings of the wardrobe and other mysterious cupboards and bedroom furniture. He has recently begun a series of still lives featuring luggage and oscillating bulbs in silk and parchment on vellum. His work sells for ridiculous ammounts of money to rich people of taste all round the world.

Il mattone di Xavier ha funzionato pricipalmente in bobine piegate di grime poco costoso e un feltro lungo desidera occasionalmente. La sua arte unica viene da un timore morboso dei portauova ed unearthly del weng. Quando un bambino lui frightened da un ritratto di Sybil Thorndyke che ha appeso nel wardrobe del suo padre. Poiché questo volta ha fatto oltre 23.000 illustrazioni e 18.000 acquaforte del wardrobe e degli altri armadietti e mobilia mysterious della camera da letto. Recentemente ha cominciato una serie di vite tranquille che caratterizzano il bagaglio e le lampadine oscillanti in seta e pergamena su velina. Il suo lavoro vende per i ammounts ridiculous di soldi alla gente ricca di gusto interamente intorno al mondo.

British Fashion Week

George Pilchradlington- Smytghe is wearing a daring off the shoulder number underneath that delightful sleeveless jumper knitted by Trappist monks in Cleethorpes. The jaunty but practical all weather hat is made from recycled fishermen's sou'westers. George took up modelling after many fruitless years as a barrowboy down the Old Kent Road.

This should be a lovely shade of blue

Curios Thing Compendium

Buy a limited edition copy this Saturday at the 2nd Manchester Artists Book Fair at the Holden Gallery MMU.


Libro Sabato Giusto 29 Settembre 2007 10.30am - 6pm Il Secondo Dell'Artista De Manchester Sir Kenneth Green Library e galleria di Holden, tutti i san città universitaria, università metropolitana de Manchester, strada de Oxford, Manchester Altoparlante Maria Fusco, 10.30am dell'ospite nel sir Kenneth Green Library La fiera apre 11.30am nella galleria di Holden, edificio di Grosvenor Officina pop-up, prestazioni, bookstallation, 45 basamenti e l'accumulazione speciale di MMU dei libri degli artisti AMMISSIONE LIBERA

Junk

A Perfect Vippy

Tongs For Every Porpoise

Today's tongs are used in a miriad of ways throughout the natural world. The interchangeable tongs of the elk are useful when finding those leaves high up in the currant bunt tree or for lifting electric wires from entangled moose. The elongated tongs of the pigmy varmint are essential for all those household chores he has to undergo. The smoothly massaging scalp tongs of the gibbon help him with that awkward quiff. How would the anteater cope without the gentle probing tongs that he uses for adjusting the straps round his luggage?

Assembly Guide

Bronx Cheer

Ofcourse the early "Whoopee Cushion" was discovered in a Neolithic cave along with the bone implements and stone pots of the prehistoric man ( and woman ). First specimens seems to be made of the bladders of the wooly mammoth. In time the inventiveness of the sub-humans new no bounds as they exeprimented with ox bladders, sheeps bladders and brown paper bags. In 1645 the first real factory produced Bronx Cheer was in fact made in Walsall in what was a black pudding workshop - the "cushions" were cleverly constructed from the left over pudding skins and sold in Birmingham at the famous Grub Market in Rissole Street.

Birds of feather- flap together.

Baby Centre

Isn't science wonderful? Here we have the latest in making babies the easy way from Babymat Co. Just drop a coin right into the slot and turn dial to select DNA, genes, hair colour, temperament, abilities, brain power, etc. and wait 9 months and a brand new baby pops down the chute at the back into the waiting buggy! Wow!

Mind The Gap

Down in the engine room something stirs
With a choo choo chewable puff
From his old briar pipe
The train waiting on platform nine
Is the greatfully recieved chuffer from Planet Kripe

A Poem Off The Top Of My Head

Off the top of my head
A poem sprang like a pilchard
Wrapped in a disgruntled doily
It's time weary face
Etched with brine and balsamic vinegar

I weaved a second verse
From an old badger's batik vest
A mildewed resting place
For gannets and elongated ducks
Tired of trifle

Plunged into a third
Vat of words dipped in effluent
I saw an elephant laughing
Skipping like a pneumatic truncheon
Over a puddle of plasticine

Goon With The Wind

Curios Snail

Dream Catcher

The ancient indian art of dream catching has long been practised in the back of beyond - behind the teepees and cacti - wobbling merrily along with all the tumble weeds. But now you too can have a dream catcher of your very own- the new modern up-to-date version made from a secret ingrediant - only known to Chief Little Big Clanger of the Tooforwun tribe. Part crystal set and part animated doily - it has the power to stretch naps and shrink snoring. No batteries are needed as it runs on natural yawn strops.

Ghostly Gold Tops

There I was waiting for Fritzi Carbolic in the foyer of the Restaurante Espectaculo when a shadow of a shallow grating seemed to pass over me - like someone had just walked over my patch of petunias in size eleven Doc Martens. A cold shiver ran down my spine , down my leg and popped out the bottoms of my serge training trousers. I hurriedly flicked it under a nearby tallboy. I continued reading the back of the matchbook I had found outside in a puddle of Bisto. I had scraped most of it off and could plainly read the address - Final Autoplath. Ctra. Santanyi. There was a phone number too- 20 27 3745. I made a note of it in biro on the back of my left leg. I turend the matchbook over and was horrified to see the face of the beautiful blonde that was there a minute ago had CHANGED! Now she had her eyes closed, as if in some deep trance-like state and her face was covered in what looked like boils and evil fissures. Some foul deed had been done for sure. In the middle of her chest wasa huge staple that had rustedand given the whole thing an air of macabre morthology. I flung the matchbook away in disgust and went outside to gather my thoughts - what little I had left in that raddled ursuline brain of mine.

The Mother Of Invention

Sporting the latest gadget laden titfer she looks into the future and sees - the electric lobe scrubber, the gas powered flea harness, the micro-botic cornice flange, the steam elevated truncheon, the plastobic filing system, the crown flappit crinkler, the bowler lentil polisher and all things bright and suitable.

Every morning she pulls on her asbestos cardigan over her big hat of gadgetry and sits down to scribble something enigmatic into her enigmatic scribbling diary. Todays entry reads thusly - "Sparking fly traps concealed in HP Sauce bottle caps - must devote time to cork flavoured whistle and the bottled wiffle pins."

Curios Thing No. 1

The Little Men Inside Your Noggin

Hoping to get a compedium fitted at Lulu if we can figure out the projectories. I hard copy would make a lovely door stop or useful to stand on at Slack gatherings to see over all the big irons.

Is This A Piece Of Your Brain?

Yoga Lesson - Pt. 1

YOga Lesson- Relaxation.

1. Lie on the bed in a darkened room

2. Legs slightly akimbo- toes pointing outwards - arms by your sides.

3. Breath in slowly but noisily through your nose.
The air going in seems cold. Count how many cubic centimetres.

4. Breath out slowly but quietly through your nose.
The air going out seems warm. Count the cracks on the ceiling.

5. Imagine your big toe.

6. Imagine a tiny ant on a bicycle riding up and down your left leg and up to your waist and armpit and up to your head and across the back of your neck.

7. Imagine the tiny ant on a bicycle going back down the other side to the big toe on your right foot. imagine the wheels on your toes.

8. Imagine a very peaceful relaxing place where you once spent a lovely holiday.

9. Drift off into the arms of oblivion.

10. Melt into the bed like a pool of cool syrup.

11. Fall asleep.

The Curse of Skeliedna

The Disgusting Sight

Do-It-Yourself Cartoon Kit - Bob Godfrey 1961

Korn Kobblers

Headless Donkey

Ah, the tale of the headless donkey
The one with the big green eye
It was washed up at the seaside
When I was only five.

The horrible ghostly "Hee-haw!"
The smackering of it's lips
Made me choke on my bottle of coke
And spill my packet of chips

Halloween Story

'Tis was the night of the Olde Crab Dangling and the mad scientist Von SHlap crept dwon to his dark dank and dunk laborotory to have fifteen minutes to himself. He read the Ghoulish Times and smoked a herring. A candle blew out and bat flew up the chimney. An owl hooted in the spikey trees outside and the big door creaked as Igor came in with one of his terrible headaches. OoooooH mashter! he cried and wobbled horribly over to the biscuit tin for a maccaroon. Green stuff slid down the walls and plopped into the puddles of ooze beneath. Some bubbled nearby in the retort. Some retorted and dripped in a bubbling way. Some bubbled and dripped and retorted. It was so noisy!
Anyway, the upshot of it was the scientist had given the wrong headache tablets to Igor and his head swelled up to enormous proportions - twice as big as any big headed thing in the laborotory. So he was sent out round the village to collect sweets and if the villagers refused he banged his big head on the doors of their hovels until they fell down. The villagers soon got sick of this and formed themselves into an Action Committee and went up to the castle with torches and pitchforks etc. with a petition to hand into the Head Head Enlarger. Soon after it got very quiet and then.......

The Curse Of The Evil Pixie

Since finding the Evil Pixie we have been alarmed by how many things have gone wrong around here. Firstly the electric toaster decided to be very erratic and burn every other slice of toast. Turning the dial down a notch made it even more cranky and the toast came out striped and with odd plaid patterns all over it - one time the word "bilge" was burnt into one side. Secondly the video stopped working and chewed up some favourite tapes - Ken Dodd's Diddymen On Ice and Home Is Where The Kelp Is.
Yesterday I found a spider in my muesli.
Today I have a bad back from stooping too much. I feel like a geriatric. I have a hot poultice strapped to my back with an old garden hose attachment incase I topple over and need to be pulled up.
I think I will get rid of it tomorrow. It keeps looking at me.

Ducky Comes A Cropper

Il suo piccolo webbed i piedi è stato portato ad un frazzle ch'hanno filato in tondo come i whelks nell'acquerugiola tutto l'improvviso le rotelle hanno cominciato a ronzare il suo senso dell'orientamento erano unbecoming sopra la scogliera la portata del ciclo dell'anatra e che hanno atterrato tutti mangled in un mucchio di vecchie latte.

Winston's Pet Chicken

Woodchuck Song

Ah, the plaintive cries of the corncrake and the spoonbill come wafting over the reedy Alphafa beds of Wyoming and we hear the woodchuck singing his mating song. No wonder there are so few of them about - especially the ones that look like this!

A day in the life of a Fluxus artist

A typical day for me is when I wake up and fling open the widows of my thirteenth floor apratment block in Bergen and breathe deeply the wonderful Norwegian mountain air. I say a few mantras to the spirit of Fluxus and fill my Fluxus pipe with some Thrimpton's Olde Percilier Ready Rub that I get sent over from England. I believe Kurt Schwitters used to use the same when he lived there. (Ofcourse he never smoked but used the packets for his collages.)
Then its breakfast of prunes and sennapods and a quick sprint to my ablutions. I fling open the windows again ( who shut them?) and breathe deeply the marvellous nose tingling mounain air and puff happily on my trusty Fluxus pipe glowing in the morning sunrise. I bound three stairs at a time down to the ground floor and peddle my Fluxus bike to my studio. I fling open the windows and breathe yet more gorgeous Norwegian mountain air which assaults my nostrils as we are not far from the fish canning factory. I quickly close the windows and begin to compost my daily doings. I fill my pipe once again with Thrimpton's Olde Perculier and contemplate the small stain on my studio wall and wonder what it can be. I have been meaning to incorporate it into an artwork for many months now and the tricklings of an idea are beginning the circumvent my imaginations. Ahay! I will use this stain for the new elevated prose poem in the lift later. My good Fluxus friend Thoebold Trump Von will accompany me on the electric tuba.
After lunch of dried quails we meet other Fluxus artists in the town square to fill our pipes with Thrimptons Olde perculier for a performance peice dedicated to Roadrunner and Coyote. We blow smoke rings that link up and resemble the Olympic symbols of unity and peace. We break some bollards with dry bread I had been saving for such a purpose and race down to the docks to dive naked into the wonderful frozen waters of the North Sea.
In hospital that evening I reflect on another successful Fluxus day and puff contendly on my trusty Fluxus pipe and fall, into a deep untroubled sleep save only for the smell of burning bed linen.

SCRAPITERIA: Space Junk

Fluxlist: Deep Fat Fryer Attacking South Sea Islanders

How Animal Painters Do Their Work

Here we see a typical animal painter at work, getting deep within his sub conscious and exploring themes of elephantine proportions. His lyrical waxing and waning technique is uttermost and the spiral dimentions and paramount in all aspects of his pre-medical efforts on transposing his subject in a context that plays havoc with the notions of transmogrification and elementary subtefuge. The artist holds up a red card and dismisses the idea of natural portions to the players on the artistic pitch of confusion. I can see the art critic tangled in the undergrowth of his own verbal incongruities. The jumboness is almost contorted with feelings of moist flannelations.

Aliens Found In Antartica

Some chinese fishermen were astounded when their boat crashed into an iceberg in Antartica and three deep frozen aliens slid onto the deck from a crack in the iceberg's side! They were kept in the hold with 20 tons of halibut until they landed three weeks later in Hi Pong. Scientists believe they may have been explorers from another planet who came here millions of years ago and somehow got frozen into the ice. No sign of any space ship was found but teams of boy scouts have gone back to the Antarctic to look for signs and to fill matchboxes with a hundred different things.
The aliens have shown no signs of life but are in a remarkable state of preservation. They are being kept under close scrutiny at the Institute for Otherworlds in Fung Tang. A spokesperson said " We have been studying the facial protusions and made a trifle".

Feline Groovy

Ah, the greatest thrill is crawling about on all fours and making a noise like THIS whilst balancing a canoe on one's chin. How we laughed as Algenon scurried about the patio at Peggy Guggenhiem's biting Max Ernst and Yves Tanguey on the ankle and chuckling loudly whilst twleve drunken gondoliers dressed in nothing but barrels rolled into the Grande Canal. All the guests would applaud and then the fried baby bibs would be served with a purple sauce.

Steffani & His Silver Songsters

A strange novelty act from the 30's when in the depression they went in for money making stunts like "Pole Squatting" and "Dance marathons" to earn a little extra cash. Steffani had this great idea to glue several small boys onto a grand piano and travel round America, going from town to town, singing and collecting money for the Silver Songsters charity he had set up to provide singing lessons for incontinent children.

Un atto sconosciuto della novità dai 30's in cui nella depressione sono andato dentro per soldi che fanno le prodezze come "le maratone accovacciare" e "di ballo" del Palo per guadagnare i pochi contanti supplementari. Steffani ha avuto questa idea grande incollare parecchi piccoli ragazzi su un grande piano e viaggiare intorno all'America, andando dalla città alla città, cantando e raccogliendo i soldi per la carità che d'argento di Songsters aveva installato per fornire le lezioni di canto per i bambini incontinent.

My Grandfather

Il mio nonno ha usato a recite questa rima di scuola materna mentre li ha oscillati sul suo ginocchio: "Hie al jenny del termitary- viene slop- ha rovesciato tutto il suo testoterone ogni goccia - ogni sloppy - ed ogni suit-case - il jenny è venuto a casa con una faccia vuota"

Woodchuck Song

The Swedish Mail Boys

Ya! Here in the frozen north of Sweden the Mail Boys assemble for the final costume change ceremony. Knitted trousers of elk hair and swedish badger mitts are combined with this years look of the village simpleton. The letters and postcards are kept in a pigs trough overnight and lighted candles ( made from earwig wax) are snuffed out and a song of rejoicing echos around the frozen lakes and mountains. They all troupe off around the villages to knock on the windows with their mail sticks and shout " Verily 'tis the mailstrom- get out of bed and flap your mail", whereapon the villlages don their bright orange skullcaps and dance out into the quaint cobbled streets and and festoon the mail boys with fish bones and potato peelings.

Ya! Qui nel nord frozen della Svezia i ragazzi della posta montano per la cerimonia finale del cambiamento del costume. I pantaloni lavorati a maglia dei capelli degli alci e dei mitts svedesi del tasso sono uniti con questo sguardo di anni del simpleton del villaggio. Le lettere e le cartoline sono mantenute in una depressione dei maiali di notte e le candele illuminate (fatte dalla cera del earwig) sono fiutate fuori e una canzone dei echos rejoicing intorno ai laghi ed alle montagne frozen. tutto il troupe fuori intorno ai villaggi da battere sulle finestre con i loro bastoni della posta e grido "Verily 'tis che il mailstrom- esce della base e che si agita la vostra posta", il whereapon i villlages indossa i loro skullcaps e ballo arancioni luminosi fuori nelle vie cobbled quaint ed e festoon i ragazzi della posta con le ossa dei pesci e le sbucciature della patata.

Ride A White Worm

Guess the pun?
Originally uploaded by wastedpapiers.

Not only a famous big hit for those Bopping Elves but a new magazine hot off the press and into your freindly neighbourhood news vendor. The thrill of riding your own white worm is a new sensation that is sure to grow. Clubs and associations of white worm riders and stables have grown rapidly over the last few months and the trend looks to be growing all the time! Famous celebrities already riding white worms include Malcolm Clupmeister, Dorian Hankopadder and Doris Oggle.

Non soltanto un colpo grande famoso per quei elves di Bopping ma un nuovo scomparto caldo fuori della pressa e nel vostro freindly fornitore di notizie della vicinanza. L'emozione di guida della vostra propria vite senza fine bianca è una nuova sensazione che è sicura svilupparsi. I randelli e le associazioni dei riders e delle scuderie bianchi della vite senza fine si sono sviluppati velocemente sopra gli ultimi mesi e la tendenza osserva sviluppare tutto il tempo! I celebrities famosi già che guidano le viti senza fine bianche includono Malcolm Clupmeister, Hankopadder dorian e Doris Oggle