Clean-Up-Luxor-Campaign

Pink Piggy Update

We apologise to all our Pink Piggy Fans for the delay in uplodaing the next episode of their adventures.  This will be recitified in the next few days.

We shall of course keep them informed of all Dial-a-Psychic type sites run by Luxor's dubious ex-pats.  It might not be against civil law in Egypt but it is against the laws of Islam.

Beware of Forum Fanatics

It has been brought to our attention that yet again a normally responsible and informative Egypt-related forum has let one of its contributors out of her cage and given her a platform where she can spew baseless vitriolic abuse about a named individual and give support to yet another alter-ego of Andrew Phoenix (an alias).

This is not the first time this sad bitter woman has been allowed to attack people on that forum.  This particular outburst must be her effort for April.  Her target for March was a ‘friend’ who she wished to publicly humiliate (sorry ‘advise') over her relationships in Luxor.  Watch your back and take care that you do not become her target for May.

Pink Piggy Tales

Episode 17 –  Sex Gods

By Christopher Wisherwood  

Our Pink Piggies were a cheerful bunch right up until they reached the doors of the Police Station.  Then their courage wavered.    Their mission was to lie about Honey Grimsdale wanting sex with them so that they could get her deported and could take over her flat and her businesses. Now that they were outside the Police Station they were having second thoughts over whether actually entering a police station was really a good idea when their lifestyle was abhorrent to everyone in Egypt. 

Leafy had trodden on two cracks in the pavement and had missed tapping three lampposts on the way to the Police station so he had a bad feeling about the whole escapade.  Everyone knew that treading on pavement cracks was doom.  He crossed his legs as worry got the better of him again and a thin line of urine began to trickle down his leg.  "Do you fink Ive catched willy worms Sandy?  You know about these fings.  Is that why I keep piddling mi pants?"

"You keep piddling yourself because you're an idiot not because you have willy worms" replied Sandy with a viciously enhanced sneer.

Du’Stan was having none of it.  He was too close to Rimbads coffee shop to resist temptation and felt the need for a Stella and another rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” overwhelming him.  He tiptoed away and left the other three contemplating their next move and was never seen by them again. 

“We can swear that she demanded sex from us.  It’s easy” muttered Sandy trying to sound convincing.  “All we have to do is open the door, enter and complain to them that there is a sixty-year old sex maniac on the loose.  They will arrest her and put her on the next plane home.”

“They’ll believe me” said Leafy removing his baseball cap to scratch his bald patch and then his rearranging his cod piece to scratch his crotch.   “cos Im young, ‘andsome and gay”.

“That’s the problem” muttered Sandy “We are all gay and over the hill so will we sound convincing?”  Noddy pirouetted again and wore a hole in the tip of his plastic crocodile-skin shoes.  Leafy scratched again.

“I fink I might av nits” he said and hauled a white egg from his thinning hair.  He squashed it between nails.  “and I mite av crabs too.  Some of them boys is not very clean”.  Sandy looked at him in disgust and wondered if Leafy had touched his towel earlier in the day.  Noddy span a bit more it was his way of forgetting things. 

Sandy put on a brave face and pushed open the police office door.  All three trooped in and stood before the Police Captain.  He stared at them in amazement.  One was huge and dressed all in black, one was wearing a baseball cap on backwards and was sporting a damp sequined cod piece and the third was spinning wildly.   

“What’s the problem” asked the captain politely trying to regain his composure.

“There’s a woman wot wants sex from me” shouted Leafy getting over-excited and jumping up and down.  “She said she wood give me presents and stuff and she didn’t do it”

“And she wants sex from me” added Sandy

“And from me” added Noddy who had stopped spinning and was rearranging his carrier bag which was now beginning to sag a bit.  The police captain stared in silence for several seconds while the gravity of the accusation sank in.

“She wanted sex with all of you and offered to pay you for it? asked the policeman slowly, seeking confirmation of their complaint.

“That’s rite” said leafy thrusting his damp cod piece towards the police captain.  “She cant resist me.  I want her thrown out of Luxor.  Thers no place ere for womin like er.  Im a sex god better than any of them giglios”.

“Are all three of you complaining that someone wanted sex from you and offered to pay you for it?” asked the police captain again.

“Yes” they replied in unison.  Sandy sat down on the floor as his knees were beginning to buckle under his weight.  “We’ve got six men to swear that she did”.

“So she made advances to all of you in public in front of all these men”

“Yes.  That’s what she did.  She came into the coffee shop and demanded that she be bent over a table.  Throw ‘er out.  She is not spectable like me” giggled Leafy imagining himself as a Brad Pitt look alike. 

The police captain called his aides into the room and let them read his notes on the complaint form.  The aides stared at the form and then again at the captain.  They repeated the process and turned to the three visions of loveliness standing in front of them before falling to the floor convulsed with laughter. 

“wacher laffing at” asked Leafy feeling less confident.  “Are you going to chuck er out?  Ive got papers I stoled from er what says she was married to an Hegytiam.  Im not married to an Hegyptian.  Im married to a man”.

“Clap them in irons” shouted the captain to his aides.  “They are trying to make fools of us.  He says he is married to a man and they are complaining about a woman wanting sex with them.  It’s crazy and it is not April 1^st any more”.

 “Are you going to put me in jail with a load of men” asked Leafy hopefully.  “Can they be boys that you arrested on the Corniche?  That would be lovely.  Please, pretty please.  You can have a lick of my lolly”.

Sandy kicked Leafy hard on the shins and grabbed Noddy before he could start spinning again.  The policemen grabbed all of them.

“Ooooooooooooo” yelped Leafy as pain shot up his leg.  Handcuffs were quickly snapped on his wrists.  “These are not as nice as furry ones.  Pink furry ones tickle” 

Sandy kicked him again and then farted in fright which blew the Police Office door off it hinges.  The Police Captain and his Aides took cover under a large desk and tried unsuccessfully to grab gas masks before they passed out.  Sandy made a waddle for it and was legging it down the road making his escape as fast as he could go.  Noddy was close behind but Leafy was still handcuffed inside the office. 

What will Leafy’s fate be?  Will his dreams come true over being shut away with the boys or will he go to a real prison where a fate worse than death might await him.  What will the next plot to dispose of Honey Grimsdale be?  Tune in again soon to find out. 

(Our Pink Piggy Tales are all fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental).   

Yet another clone Site

Luxor's webmasters are not very imaginative when it comes to website names and have a habit of copying those that are already successful and in use.  Sometimes this can be useful as it gives double coverage to a problem.

Already there is a clone site of Luxor Eye but this time we are really pleased as it serves the same purpose as Clean Up luxor Campaign and our own Luxor Eye (but as usual has no humour).  Below is an extract from the site which calls for naming and shaming.  This goes a step beyond this blog and Luxor Eye as we do not name anyone anywhere.  Perhaps this clone site is braver than we are?  However, we have continually asked that all our readers report all crimes to the police.  Sometimes threats make this hard to do but have courage you will get a lot of support. 

Although one of the links uses our domain name we can assure you that we have nothing to do with the clone site and should it be sued for misrepresenting people (as it aims to name and shame) then we wish to make clear that we cannot be held responsible in any way.

Egypt is a wonderful place to live and we should respect the laws and keep it the place that it deserves to be.

Extract:

Welcome to www.LuxorEyes.com

Luxor in Egypt is a haven for many illegal con-artists and fraudulent businesses and charities. The British ex-pats are by far the worst culprits. LuxorEyes keep a very close eye on their activities and reports all offences to the Police and appropriate authorities in Egypt and Britain.

Name ‘em and Shame ‘em!

http://www.LuxorEyes.com/

http://www.LuxorEye.LuxorEyes.com/

http://www.Blogigo.com/LuxorEyes

http://www.Blogigo.com/KeithHartleyConfessions

Unfortunately, this clone site (LuxorEyes) gives a link to another clone site which for six months has conducted an almost daily campaign of lies, threats and extreme abuse of  named individuals, their friends, members of their families and charities.  All claims on this particular clone site have been studied by the police in Luxor and in the UK and by the Charity Commission.  It was dismissed as the ravings of a deranged individual.    

This site (www.Little-Stars-Luxor.org) was published by Andrew Phoenix (itself an alias) who has posted the same lies, and abuse under other names on various forums following his dismissal as an employee of the charity.   After being found guilty of attempted extortion he brought down the site which he had been paid to construct.  If anyone can be bothered to read through the hundreds of pages of abuse and lies on this site they can make their own judgement of Andrew Phoenix and will no doubt come to the same conclusion as the authorities did.   

LuxorEyes also gives a link to CleanUpLuxor which is the blog site of one of Andrew’s friends who is yet another deranged individual. This is very disappointing and undermines what could have been a good site.  

The originals of all these sites are still the best.

Raising the Pink Piggy Tone

Sonnet 150

dedicated to Leafy, Noddy, Sandy and Du'Stan

William Shakespeare

O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantize of skill
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.

Leafy Wannabees

We are famous and are being flooded again with posts from 'Leafy' wannabees.

The Leafy wannabees, who are desperate for their five minutes of fame, are threatening to sue us for slander again today. Our characters (as we repeatedly state) are fictional and anybody wanting to relate to them is delusional or guilty. Libel cases are for the rich only as costs run into hundreds of thousands of pounds and damages have to be proven. If anyone really is a 'Leafy' or 'Sandy' type character then no damage could possibly occur to their 'good' name because they do not have one.

What we fail to understand is why any 'Leafy' wannabee would want to spend 15 hours a day flooding this site with rubbish instead of living a life.  It proves our point and what a good job we are doing.  Why are so many trying to cover their backs and their crimes?  There is only one fictional 'Leafy' but there are many claiming to be him.

Secret Diary of Ebay Leafy  

Wednesday

Dear Diry,

Bin a bit pissed off lately.  Only bitta fun I ‘ad was slaggin off sum old lady, the one wot I stoled money and privat papers from and shoutin at anover OAP. 

Gotta mind not getting caut by Secrit Polis tho has they will put me in a cage wiv a big blak monkee, I fink it is a grilla, wot will do fings to me.  Oh ...............................  ‘ang on a minute.

Thursday

Dear Diry,

I new it.  Ive found the evidens.  There were biskit crums on Sandys keybord.  ‘E ‘as bin eatin mi biskits after all.  I were upset and ‘ad anover accident.  Noddy laffed at me.  Everyone laffs at me now. Still it is better to the laffed at than ignored.  I am goin to try ignoring that fat Sandy then he mite leave my biskits alone.  I fink that Dustan bloke is after me fags.

Friday 

Secret Diary of Sandy Firenicks

Wednesday

Dear Diary,

Sharing a flat with Leafy, Noddy and Du’Stan is making my head spin.  Noddy has drilled a hole in the floor with all that pirouetting and the flat smells like a urinal with leafy wetting the bed every night.  What a tiresome creature that Leafy is.   He even moaned about me eating his biscuits.  What else I am supposed to eat while I sit at my computer doing the devil’s work.  I have to ingratiate myself with the Master somehow.  Where else is there to go if you get rejected by both above and below.

Thursday

Dear Diary

I think I shall take up contemplating my navel and philosophising on the creation of mankind. I could sit there for hours eating biscuits if I did that.  If I stretch a bit my arms can almost go round my tummy and reach my navel.  I have to be careful not to squeeze myself because that forces out the gas and I cannot afford to replace the glass in the windows yet again.  I am sure that I heard Leafy trump yesterday.  I could blame him.  His rear end is saggy enough to be the culprit.

(Pink Piggy characters are entirely fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coinicdental).

Questionable Behaviour

One questionable Guestbook entry has not been deleted and has been left as an example of another sort of danger to which Luxor residents may be exposed.  It is perpetrated by sociopaths who can appear charming and plausible but if any criticism is made of their lifestyle they respond in any way they can.  Their favourite method being to flood with internet with the names of those against whom they have a vendetta but also by not being averse to threats of violence.

This site has never named individuals or associations, unlike its clone sites.  As mentioned earlier by some contributors to the Guestbook anyone identifying themselves with fictional characters must be very sensitive regarding their actions (or very proud of them). 

The cloning of this website closely imitates the cloning of a charity site through which the charity and its Trustees have been subjected to a seven month campaign designed to destroy the charity and the reputation of its Trustees.  Fortunately all authorities including the Luxor and British Police and the Charity Commission have dismissed all accusations as the ravings of unbalanced bitter individuals.

The purpose of our Guestbook is not to provide a platform for any individual to initiate a slanging match.  It is to enable comments to be made regarding the scams or the stories told, which are there to highlight problems and entertain our readers. 

For this reason, any entries naming real individuals will be deleted.  If any real names appear in the future it will mean that our vetting procedure has been bypassed by one of the hackers and computer scammers that we have warned you against.

All established Luxor residents will be aware of this but anyone new to Luxor should beware of webmasters, hackers, and computer scammers who if crossed may set out to destroy you.

Pink Piggy Writers’ Profiles

Wennessee Tilliams

Pink Piggy Extras - Ruby Remembers

By Ruby Rasta  

I wanna ya all know dat Ruby is a tinkin of ya  in dat Luxor, an a promise a doant forget ya.  Affa one week when a bin a restin a go an see maa shrink to set maa head straight affa maa brain bin done stretched like nebber afore. 

Affa him done roll dem bones and stir dem ashes, maa belly shakin cos him alers hits dat spot.  Him black like midnight an come from  dat Haiti where dem dig up dem dead for drink afernoon tea. When him turn white a knows a is in deep shit. He doant ask where a bin, him know.  ‘Ruby’ him say, ‘Ya as bin mixin wi dem white trash like afore, an a warn ya bout dat. Specially when dem is fat, stinkin and em dem is dat way.’ A preten a doant know what im mean when im say dat way.  Ya know what a means him bawl, ‘dem feelins is in dem back door, doant tell me affa all dem years ya paradin up dat Lexington ya doant meet dem’. I tells him “a knows that dem all have dat smell dat doant come from lavender”.  As my ol Pal Joey say “thems try to get sweet water from dat foul well and dem little chickens is cold without dem feathers’. 

A feelin better now him done him diagnosis.  Him put mi on grits and molasses for dis week and him tell Ebenezer him must massage maa ego when a gets a hot flush. A done have more hot flushes dan ya aall have good dinners. Well, a gotta follow dem instructions! 

Phoebe done send me email.  She fixin to sell up an buy flat in dat West Bank.  Lawd, a done  shiver maa timbers. A done tell her stay clear a dat femail gangagrab near dat St. George hotel.  Beware of dem dragons.  Dem is kin to da devil an dat gang is a growin.  A warn her, check all dem website an doant give ya business to dem handbag swishers.  Dem mouth make crocodile ya best friend. She done tell me she make friend wi Noddy she meet in dat hotel Isis, I tell her she better make friend wi dat Lockness monster a done read about. At least she see him cumin.  A tink she must a bin listening to dat Egypt lawyer man who sing dem song on amateur night. Well, ya gotta make a buck when ya scrattin.  

Afore a forgets, a done buck up with dat Bimboli when she come cleaning ma room at dat Winter Palace. I doant  say she is on her uppers, more like she on her downers. She done finish eatin dem scraps from maa breakfast fasser than dat Leafy bend over every night except February 29^th.  Dat Sandy him cant bend over cos him too fat to bend anywhere.  Dems not like dat scum dat float dems like dem dregs dat sink like shit in dat pisspot. 

A pass by dat Simbad gardens an ya doant believe it, dat Du’Stan him still singin ‘Somewhere Over dat Rainbow’.  Him gotta long time waitin cos it doant offen rain in dat place and rainbows is as scarce as honesty is to dat Leafy.  Leafy an truth dem is strangers.  I hear dem is goin dig up dat garden soon, Du’Stan better shift him arse or him goin soon join dat Tutankhamun a done read about. 

A doan know why a bin tinkin about ma dear old pappa cos he a long gone dude.  A can hear him now a sayin ‘Ruby, dat fanny a yourn gonna get ya in big trouble one day, an fa shure it gonna get ya arrested for provocation.’ Well, all a can say it shure got me a nice pad in dis ere Harlem. 

A gotta go now, a feel one a maa hot flushes comin on and dat Ebeneezer soon be a knockin at maa door.

Pink Piggy Extras

Ruby is back and her latest piece will be uploaded  today.   

Pop in again later to read it.

Hackers

Wow, we have had our busiest day ever today.  Unfortunately we also have a hacker.  Luxor has more than its fair share of computer creeps as outlined in one of our scam reports.  This one, keeps flooding our Guestbook with insulting rubbish about Luxor residents and is posting under the name of CleanUpLuxor (very original). 

We are not like our copycat clone sites who name names to 'out' people and all insulting material will be deleted as soon as it is spotted.  Normally it would not even be uploaded onto the site, but the hacker is bypassing the system and his posts are going directly onto the Guestbook and there is nothing that we can do about it.  We cannot be held responsible for these postings.

New Website  -  Luxor Eye

 www.LuxorEye.com

We have been talking about our new website for a long time and you probably thought that it would never arrive.  That makes us doubly delighted to tell you we have uploaded it today. 

It is still not finished and many sections are under construction but you can now read the Pink Piggy Tales and all our other entries in sequence rather than having to flick through various blog pages.

We hope that the entire site will be finished in the next few weeks as contributors submit their text and photos.  Its mission is simply to entertain and amuse and to inform residents and visitors about what is happening in Luxor.

Luxor is a wonderful place to visit and live and it is getting better every day.

Pop in and see us.

If you have any contributions send them to 

Editor@LuxorEye.com

We will publish all interesting articles that are relevant to Luxor ancient and modern and will give full credit to the authors so get writing.

Pink Piggy Extra 

Phoebe Visits Luxor

by Phoebe Windsor

Just returned from my brief stay at the Winter Palace and as requested I was met by Hamid, a driver to die for, and the answer is no, I didn’t.  I had a wonderful time and hope to return very soon.

Well, it all started off on the wrong foot, Clarissa would take umbrage (dictionary please) because I refused to stay at her villa on the West Bank. However, I did cross the river to have lunch with her but the whole place was covered in dust, and I soon discovered that the adjoining villa had been the victim of an attack by a rampant bulldozer whose driver apparently had a personal vendetta against Noddy. 

In fact, I arrived just in time to see our ersatz (French dictionary) ‘heroine’ performing, as I thought, a rendering of his version of the dying swan in Swan Lake.  However he was still in the pirouetting stage of attempting a solo pas de deux on his pointed plastic shoes, and screaming in a falsetto (dictionary) voice, Sandy! Sandy! Leafy! Leafy!  Pleezy! Pleezy! Helpy!  Noddy!  At the same time he was beating the driver with his ubiquitous (dictionary) new carrier bag.  All very Monty Python, I haven’t been so amused in years.  In fact, I noticed one lady with long hair to her waist screaming with glee.  I did think that rather cruel but the heart has its reasons.  I’ve forgotten who said that but I must believe it was justified in this case.

Naturally, I met with most of the other writers, Christopher, Ruby and several who remain anonymous.  Ruby is so very, very common but such a doll.  Mother always told me not to speak with the tradesmen, something to do with catching things but she never explained what. I did ask Ruby and she said in that southern twang, ‘Well honey iffa ya doan know now is better a doant tell ya. Iffa dem nebba bitten ya fanny ya shure is lucky. Me, a bin bitten more time dan Sandy done fart and dats a lotta times a done tells ya.’ 

Clarissa introduced me to her houseboy and I felt a faint flutter around my left one, the place where I pin mother’s sapphire and diamond fob watch, incidentally given to her the night she lost it.  Again, she never told me what she lost.  Sometimes I feel I have missed out on a lot by restricting my reading to Anita Brookner and Jane Austin and would have been better with Jackie Collins, strictly forbidden by you know who.  Incidentally, Clarissa’s houseboy Omar one of our informers, who works part time for our intrepid Interpol investigator commonly known as Roving Reporter, claims that Noddy is a fully paid up member of the violet brigade and  has always been.as free as a fairy. I am sure Sandy has advised him that he is walking on thin ice. 

Naturally, I bumped into the girls, those darling devotees of the violet shadows, Sandy, Leafy, Noddy and Du’nstan, all decked out for their midnight cavorting at those ‘very, very special gatherings’ on the West Bank. Clarissa gets to know about all this from Omar who previously was an assistant to our misfits when they briefly had the strip joint behind the railway station. Needless to say he is in their confidence, the suckers! To move on our heroes/heroines have gone down since then and, to put it politely, they are now on their uppers.   

Apparently, they all had such wild ambitions when they arrived in Luxor and before they continued on the slippery road to nowhere.  Their plans to take over businesses started by the entrepreneurial foreigners, plagiarizing ideas, absconding with money, forgery, blasphemy and most of the seven deadly sins, (gluttony in Sandy’s case) denigrating all and sundry, are victims to their brains being located where most of us sit on. Or, as Ruby so succinctly (dictionary) said, ‘Dem is up to dem neck in s**t and dem doant know dem arse from dem head.’ She has such a concise and direct way of saying things that is almost poetical, but I don’t think she and mummy would have seen eye to eye.  

Anyhow, to leave the gutter behind us, I must say I had a frightfully happy time and most of the foreigners there get on with their lives and leave the sleaze to these deadbeats. 

I must get on.  Clarence and Mark have booked to come down for a short break.  Clarence you know works on the ladies underwear counter in Harvey Nichols and Mark his flatmate gave me that darling Fragonard. That picture still keeps me awake and Clarissa has ordered three of them for her bedroom. Why she bothers when she has that darling houseboy I will never know, but she was always a snob. 

I had an appointment to see some Liverpudlian nobody about buying a property but Ruby in no uncertain terms and again in her succinct vocabulary, advised me ‘dat woman she done have mout like crocodile so ya betta go mix wi da devil instead.’   I think it is that wannabee Gangagrab Ruby bumped into.  I believe she specialises in property that is up for the jump, or should I say the dump. 

Ruby just done tell me dem facts of life! 

WaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaOooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

p.s.  I must watch myself as the vicar is due to call for tea, he might just get something else besides dem piss poor Marie biscuits. 

Pps. The words in parenthesis (dictionary) are for Sandy’s benefit whose vocabulary I am told is repetitive (dictionary) to say the least.  I am also informed it can go on and on for hundreds of pages and those strings behind the loo doors are dragging them off their effing hinges.

(All Pink Piggy Tales are fictional and any similarity between persons living or dead is purely co-incidental).

Guestbook Apologies.

We apologise for the 'gaps' in our Guestbook.  We are being bombarded with entries from Leafy and Sandy wanabees who want to sue us for libel and who insist that they know who this site belongs to.

This site, as its name denotes, belongs to Pink Piggy Tales and was registered to their email address.  Posters who say they have evidence contrary to this are simply lying.  Little Liars, Big Liars or Obscenely Huge Liars, it makes no difference.  They still make idiots of themselves.

Unfortunately, the site is being hacked and postings relating to individuals are being uploaded onto the site without the approval of the owners.  All we can do is delete them when we see them.  We apologise to anyone who is insulted by these posts but confirm that we are not responsible for unapproved Guestbook entries.

Raising the Pink Piggy Tone

An Ode for Fat Sandy.

Sonnet 146

William Shakespeare

Pink Piggy Tales

Episode 16 – Graduation Day 

by Christopher Wisherwood

Sandy sat and looked at the Certificates on the table in front of him.  He had issued them to himself, Leafy and Noddy as graduates of his course in being Obscenely Huge Liars.  Du’Stan looked on in disappointment as his Certificate said that he was still only a Bigger Liar.  The new Certificates allowed the letters PIG to be added to their names.  (Promoter of Infantile Gobbledegook)  Sandy clapped his podgy hands and slapped Leafy on the back causing him to drop his fag and spurt his breakfast cup of tea all over his clean T shirt and sparkly cod piece.

“It’s wonderful” sniggered Sandy. “With these certificates we can prove that we are big enough liars to become Lawyers”.

“Ive always wanted to be a lawyer.  They ‘av big briefcases and I ‘av always wanted a big un” shouted Leafy jumping up and down with glee.  It was the first Certificate he had ever received and he was going to frame it and send a copy to his Mum and Dad; if he ever found out where they were hiding.  Leafy was not lucky with Mums they kept leaving him under bushes.  He knew that lawyers earned lots of money whether they won or lost the case so his future was now secure.  “Is there a graduation ceremony?” he asked hopefully.  He knew that graduates wore caps and gowns and he had his new baseball cap ready and the frock that Bimboli had sewn for him when he was a bridesmaid at Noddy’s recent second wedding.

He wanted to rush to the shop in town that had a new bright red moped in the window.  It had black flashes on it and had a big enough seat to fit a boy at the front and one at the back, what ecstasy.  There was even room to write “Mafia” on the petrol tank.  His pulling power would be doubled.  Excitement got the better of him and he rushed to the bathroom to relieve the pressure on his damp tea stained cod piece.  Du’Stan stole his packet of fags as soon as he was out of sight.

Sandy waited for Leafy to re-emerge and then, chewing his fingernails, mused for a while.  “I have a more cunning plan.  Perhaps we are now big enough liars to be Estate Agents.  People might trust us and we can cheat them out of thousands.  Just think of all the Government land or properties that are due for demolition that we can sell everyone”.

Noddy had just woken up on a pile of old clothes in the corner of the room.  He had been sent back to Luxor from darkest Africa when the Mandingos got tired of his constant whining.  No amount of ransom money was worth that.   The pygmies had considered eating him but were afraid of food poisoning so they wrapped him in brown paper, stuck a stamp on him and sent him to the Post Office in Mahata Street.  The staff there, on opening the package for custom’s inspection, quickly threw him into the street and then washed their hands a dozen times to cleanse themselves of his touch.

Noddy yawned then leapt up and clutched the Certificate with glee. Like Leafy, it was the first qualification he had ever had.  He had once taken an NVQ is washing up while working at a hotel but had failed miserably when he could not get dried egg off the plates.  Sandy had lots of qualifications.  He just printed them off whenever he felt like it.  He could boast that nobody in Luxor had as many PhD certificates from bogus Universities as he did.  Du’Stan vowed to steal one of them and change the name on it so that he could be an Estate Agent too.  A small tear of disappointment crept into the corner of his eye and he stifled a belch and scratched his arse.

Noddy pirouetted on the pointy shoes he loved so much that he wore them in his makeshift bed.  Leafy, overcome with excitement at the thought of buying an even bigger moped wet himself.  Sandy heaved his weight about and groaned while he raised his right buttock ready to let off one of his seismic farts.  Noddy and Leafy blanched and took cover behind the settee.  Du’Stan hid in the wardrobe.  Sandy’s stomach rumbled and gurgled but then settled leaving our hapless trio safe for the time being.

“Premises.  We need premises.  If we are to be Estate Agents then we need a shop.  Where will we find a shop?" queried Sandy.

“In an Estate Agents” offered Leafy timidly already seeing where the conversation would take him.

“But we are Estate Agents now” laughed Noddy.  “How can one Estate Agent go to another Estate Agent to find somewhere to set up shop”?

“Easy” said Du’Stan having one of his cleverer moments.  “We pretend to be lawyers”.  Sandy slapped him on the back causing the stolen packet of fags to fall to the floor.

“Thems my fags”  whined Leafy, desperately wanting to snatch up the packet but being afraid because Du’Stan was bigger than him.  “Thems my fags.  I sold myself five times at 50 piastas a go to buy them”.  His bottom lip trembled and a lump came to his throat at the thought of it but he quickly recovered when he thought of the pleasure he got in that alley behind the Sheradon.  One of the boat boys had even promised to come again if the price was right.  "Do Estate Agents 'av big briefcases too?" he asked forlornly.

“That bitch Honey Grimsdale might have a shop we can steal.  We can set her up and try and get her deported.  I am sure I saw her buying groceries in Somar’s Market last week.  That must be a criminal offence.  If not we can say that she demanded sex from all of us and that we have six men to swear that she did.  That should do the trick”.

“How will that work” asked Noddy. “We are gay and like boys.  Who would believe us?”

“You daft buggers.  This is Luxor” interjected Du’Stan.  “She would have to be ninety-five years old, have leprosy and have been dead for a week before anyone would refuse to have sex with her and even then there would be at least one volunteer”.

“We know that but people outside of Luxor don’t,” reasoned Sandy.  “I just have to flood the Internet with the lies.  Hopefully that will depress her and drive her out of Luxor and then we can take over her flat and her business.  Just think of all the money we can make”.

Leafy got excited again over the thought of having enough money to buy an imported Harley.  He grabbed up the fallen packet of fags and lit three all at the same time. Stuffing two in his mouth and one up his left nostril.  He coughed violently and wet himself again.  He stepped out of the puddle and shook the yellow liquid from his furry slippers then vowed to buy some Pampas or some Tena Lady pads next time he was in a pharmacy.

Sandy, forgetting his physical inadequacies, tried to look sexy enough for a woman to demand sex from him.  Noddy preened himself and pirouetted again. “Easy” he said copying Du’Stan.  “Nobody could resist me”   He wiggled his hips and tried out his most husky voice while searching in his new carrier-bag for a glossy lipstick.   (Devoted readers you may weep here because Noddy almost went into terminal decline when the Pygmy kept his crocodile handbag and he could not afford a new one).  He glossed his lips, fluffed up his hair and pouted.  The flies on the wall were sick.

Leafy sat and cried at the thought of having sex with a woman of any age let alone a fat old woman like Honey Grimsdale. He did not even like grown up men.  “Be brave lads” chivvied Sandy.  “Off we go to the Police Station. Think of Queens and country.  Be a mincing man not a mincing mouse.  All we need to do is lie enough to get the old bat thrown own of Egypt then we’ll be rich.”

“Let’s open a bottle of Stella to celebrate” squeaked Du’Stan still eying Leafy’s packet of fags and staring lingeringly at Noddy’s lipstick.

And so the PIGgies went out into the sun to start their dastardly, devious, dodgy and deliciously depraved deals.  Sandy farted which closed the front door automatically behind them and dried out Leafy’s wet clothes but unfortunately withered the surrounding trees that had only recently been planted.  Leafy skipped along beside him making sure that he did not stand on the cracks in the pavement and Du'Stan tried to look as though he was not with him.  Noddy carefully arranged his new carrier-bag over his arm and bent to tie the laces of his pointy shoes causing Leafy to have another accident.  Just another day in paradise.

Sandy had not felt so happy since he robbed an Oxfam box in Paddington Night Shelter.  If this failed he was sure he could find a charity box or a collection plate to rob somewhere.  He knew from experience that they were seldom closely watched. Charity workers were trusting souls just ripe for him to pick.   

Pink Piggy Tales are entirely fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

PROPERTY SCAM

A new property scam has been brought to our attention.  It is operating at present in the Ramla area of the West Bank but could be in operation in other areas of Luxor too.

It works like this: 

Recently real Government inspectors have been looking at illegal building on the Ramla and at buldings there and elsewhere that might have to be demolished due to the renovation plans.  Crooks are pretending that they have Government documents that need signing for  proof of ownership and have approached flat owners with bogus papers.  These are not Government documents and when translated state that ownership of the property has been transferred making the crook the new owner of the property. 

One such document is about to be presented to the court in Luxor in a property dispute.  The crook is swearing that the property was given to him freely when the actual owner knew nothing about it.  This is dreadful and demonstrates how low some people will stoop to get money.

  The moral of this is     

DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING

 THAT YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND

 NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TRUST THE PERSON ASKING YOU TO DO SO.

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