Clean-Up-Luxor-Campaign

Scams – ‘Clairvoyant’ Con Men  

People have a tendency to turn to a clairvoyant in times of extreme distress through the loss of a loved one or because of uncertainty in their future.  Whatever the reason they are vulnerable and in need of help.  Victorians were extremely adept at getting grieving widows or parents to part with huge sums of money by faking contact with the spirit of a lost love.  Similar scam artists are still operating and one of them is in Luxor.

We are not casting doubt on clairvoyancy per se as there are those who genuinely appear to be adept at predicting future events.  However those people are few and far between and to them it is a gift and not a business opportunity.  Because of its mystic past, Luxor is the ideal place to practise a scam which plays on people’s hopes and fears and unfortunately, one is being operated there by an ex-pat Englishman.

This particular con-artist boasts that his talents have never been rivalled and that he was lecturing to packed conference halls from the age of sixteen.  However, Google searches on his real name and his assumed name give negative results except for his Dial-a-Psychic sites and advertisements, many of which are parasitically attached to genuine sites so that they get more coverage.  A true psychic would not stoop to such low tricks.  This one is as psychic as a brick.

Despite that, he will offer contact with the departed on your mobile phone at premium rates and will pass on messages which mean nothing to anyone including you.  He will even offer tarot readings over the phone.  Anyone who has ever had experience of tarot reading knows that the cards should be cut by the person having the reading so it is a long stretch of the imagination that this could be done via a mobile phone or via the Internet.  However, con-artists are arch-persuaders and can convince vulnerable people that they are so gifted that they do not need actual contact.  Fear is a lucrative trade. 

Apart from his consultations costing you a vast amount of money they are likely to lead to blackmail and extortion.  Distressed people only need a small trigger before they start relating what their problems are.  This makes his later attempts to blackmail you easier.  If you cross him or refuse his demands, everything you told him will be splashed over the Internet for everyone to read. Of course, this will stop if you pay him even more money.  If you do not then he will ruin your life. 

In Islam only Allah knows your future and attempting to communicate with the dead is completely forbidden.  Running such a business from Luxor is disgraceful and shows complete contempt for Egyptian culture.  Ancient Egyptians may have believed in necromancy but Islam does not.  Scammers care only about their bank balances not about ethics. 

If you need help after the loss of a loved one then ask help from a minister of whatever religion you happen to belong to or go to a friend who you think might offer the comfort you seek.  If you need business advice then go an expert.  If you want advice over your love life or over what decisions you should make about other things then ask a trusted friend.  Do not go to a complete stranger who is after your  money and to whom confidentiality is merely a word with which to scam vulnerable people.  

He has his own agenda at heart not yours

 He uses a false name

He is not clairvoyant

He is not telepathic

He is not empathetic

He is a con man

He is extremely dangerous.

He will destroy you. 

He is a liar

He is a thief

He is a blackmailer

He is evil 

He is out of control and a morbidly obese compulsive eater

He is trying to blackmail Luxor charities and taking food from children's mouths 

He is being investigated by the police in two countries

   You have been warned

Stay away from this man  

EX-PAT SCAMMERS

Look out for more details of how ex-pats scam their colleagues.  We have already written about counterfeit money, land scams and computer scams soon we will tell you all about fake psychics and charlatans who have no gift other than deception. 

Much is written about Egyptians ripping off Europeans but the worst scams are perpetrated by ex-pats on other ex-pats and their dishonesty is made easy because people have a tendency to trust their own people.  Both men and women are involved in these scams so it is hard to know who to trust.

Pink Piggy Writer Profiles

 –

OUR HARLEM BASED WRITER  

Ise live up in Harlem honey, Ruby Appleton is de name, well! I guess dat was di name of dat white man who bought maa great grandad all dem years ago. Ise a cum from Alabama wi maa mama in 1925 and wi done settle in Harlem and work Lexington Avenue from 42^nd up to 75^th.  South o dat dem done want freebies and north a 75^th dat sho too near home.

Well, I gotta say, I sho all dat time a love writin an a spellin, an a sho split maa knickers when dat nice old Egyptian man ask mi to do it for dem dollars. He sho believe a could add some spice.  Mind ya honey, from what he done tell bout dem goins on in Luxor I sho get horny. Ise gotta say tho, in maa time we done got paid for it, not pay dem man rascals. An in maa time we sure lynched dem queenies in Alabama.

Affa a finish wi dem wankers dem is goin wish dem outa site. Am gonna tell all ya hear. Specially dat fat Sandy wi his Scarlat o’Hara pretentions an dat Lady Clairol black dye job.  Dat false pigtail, dat dun look like chinaman, but dem doan make fat chinaman. Ya all knows wadda mean honey, ya does find em on all da street corners here in Harlem, stoned, randy, pissed and penniless, or should a done say not a pot to piss in.  As maa old mama said, dem sho is white trash honey.

An as for dat Leafy standin in broad daylite honey, wi dat erection left to wilt, wi his receeding hairline an  potbelly, how many moo he fink he get o dem nasties at his age.  A sho doan like dat fairy no way. An as for dat Noddy wi dem pointed shoe like him wanna tinkle on dem when he go toilet, dat sho is one o dem afreets (devils) we done get in dat Africa. 

Am retired now an livin wi ma son, he police detective an he sho flip if he knew maa story, but a keep quite and sing da gospels an hope to cross dat ole river Jordan somehow. Hallelujah!

Pink Piggy Tales

Episode 12 – Sandy is not a happy man

By Christopher Wisherwood et al

Sandy was not a happy man.  Leafy was back in town and, being homeless had spent the night snoring on his floor but that was not the reason that Sandy was unhappy.  Sandy was unhappy because Honey Grimsdale was not suffering enough and he needed to punish her more but he would punish Leafy too.

Part of Leafy’s duties was to scrape and bow to him but this morning Leafy had been guilty of dereliction of duty.    Sandy had scoffed the last of the ice cream, pizzas and crisps before Leafy woke up and so Leafy could not have his usual breakfast of three cups of tea, four bags of crisps and a packet of fags.  He had gone out in a huff clutching his broken dentures and his torn codpiece and had forgotten to lick Sandy’s boots before leaving.  Leafy was preoccupied and had to pay the price.  His red tap shoes had escaped damage except for an encrustation of goat dung but his tutu was ruined.  He could leave the codpiece for repair at the local sewing shop in Medina Street and there was a dentist in Cleopatra Street that might mend the dentures.  If he sashayed suggestively and wiggled his bum then the dentist might not charge him.  Otherwise he would have to spend a few hours mopping up teeth and blood to pay his bill. 

Immediately Leafy had slammed the door behind him, Sandy rummaged in his rolls of fat and retrieved two of the dolls that he concealed there.    They looked similar to each other as both were feminine with breasts and long hair but the one representing Leafy was wearing a baseball cap.  The one of Honey Grimsdale was ragged and old and usually kept in his groin so that he could fart at it at will.   Sandy grabbed Leafy’s effigy and stuck two pins into its chest and then one into its left buttock.   Leafy was sitting in an arabia (mini-bus) at the time on his way to the dentist and he screamed so loudly that the driver thought he had been stabbed.  He stamped on the brakes causing all the passengers to shoot forward and fall into a heap on the front seat.  Leafy screamed again as someone trod on his head in their panic to get out.  He was distraught as the loose teeth from his dentures had fallen out of his pocket and his silver cod piece now had two cigarette burns in it.  Sandy smiled as he visualised the effects of his actions.  Sandy visualised everything.

He turned the second doll over and over in his hands and then, dragging his stomach across the floor, headed for the kitchen where he got a long skewer, a bread knife and a cup of water.   He was so exhausted by having to drag his stomach back again that he had to rest for a while before he could summon up his demons.  He needed powerful allies for this one. 

He had spotted Honey Grimsdale a few days earlier when she was having lunch with friends in the Sindbad Café.  How could she do that when he had told everyone that she was in prison awaiting deportation for smashing up her own office?  Had he not written to his MP, his MEP, the International Press, the Security Services, the Prison Services, his lawyer, her lawyer, their lawyer, the Lord Chief Justice, the Pope, the Queen, the entire Saudi Royal Family, the United Nations, the Red Cross, the Charity Commission, the Trading Standards Authority, Tony Blair, George Bush, George Brown, David Cameron, Malcolm Campbell, Winston Churchill, Peter Sutcliffe, Dr. Crippen, Bluebeard, Ian Brady, Denis Neilson, Jack Sparrow, Tom Sawyer, Count Dracula, David Copperfield, Uncle Tom Cobbly and the entire populations of Trumpton, Emmerdale, Salem and Camberwick Green?

Had he not sent out dozens of letters, hundreds of Faxes, thousand of emails to everyone he could think of and then started millions of rumours, all of which had been ignored? Had he not started websites and blogs all over the place to relate every lie that he could think of?  Even a hermit on the slopes of Mount Everest who had logged into the Internet while trying to contact his masters on Mars knew that Honey Grimsdale was a tart.  Fifteen peasants in Outer Mongolia had also seen the site and knew that she was making porn films.  They thought that was rather a grand accomplishment for an old age pensioner and wanted to meet her.  Sandy spat in the doll’s face but Honey was in the shower at the time and failed to notice the extra moisture.

He screwed up his eyes and imagined her torture.  The old biddy should have been hanged from a yard arm, drowned in a ducking stool, beheaded at the block, given a thousand lashes and had cabbages and rotten tomatoes thrown at her for all she had done to annoy him.  She had the temerity (cheek for Leafy’s sake) to call him a thief and liar.  It was true, but she no more right to say it than she had to tell his mother about how he had killed all those cats.  (See episode 6 )  That reminded him; he had three more cat corpses to dispose of before his next door neighbours noticed that the smell was not coming from Leafy.  He had killed off his mother by pushing her down the stars but he was not having the same easy success over Honey Grimsdale’s demise.

Regaining his strength, Sandy headed for the cupboard where he kept his spell book.  Nothing seemed to be working so he had to call in the big guns.  He drew out his black candles and his upside cross and rummaged around in the dust and cobwebs until he found what he was looking for.  He smiled broadly when he found the “The Ladybird Book of Wizardry” and he opened it at page 3 and the chapter on. “How to get your own back first”.

He slowly read down the page until he got to the bottom, but it was useless.  He had already tried everything that it suggested.  Honey Grimsdale had even fallen under a calleche but it had not killed her off.  He had gone to the police and accused her of bigamy, theft, fraud, deception, pornography production and brothel keeping but that did not worked either.  He had written to the Washington Post, the New York Herald, the Daily Mirror, the News of the World, the Sunday Times, Hello, Chat and Woman's Own but none of them were interested in an over the hill old age pensioner.  They only wanted to know what Kate Moss and that Docherty chap were up to.    Even Max Clifford and the Accrington Mercury had not returned his call.    He would get them all to acknowledge him eventually even if it took nine years.  He tore up the book in disgust.

Sandy carefully inspected the doll again and poured the water over its head visualising Honey drowning.  But she was still in the shower and again failed to notice the extra water.  He then stuck the skewer into the doll’s head and visualised her pain but it only went into a part of Honey’s brain that had already ceased to function and she did not even feel it.  Next came the bread knife.  He slashed at the doll’s legs and visualised Honey bleeding to death in the road.  But by now Honey was in the kitchen cutting some bread for toast.  The knife slipped and cut straight through the butter.  Honey chastised herself for her clumsiness and munched the toast contentedly.   

Consumed with hate and frustration, Sandy stuck another pin in Leafy’s effigy; this time in his crotch.  Leafy yelled and clutched himself but the gesture was misinterpreted as an offer of “bananas” and a passer-by dragged him into an alley, molested him and then demanded money.  Leafy wet himself yet again in fright and fled to a dark corner where he sat and cried.  Nothing was going right for him.  He was cold, wet, toothless, homeless and without a moped.  Life was hardly worth living.  Even his wife Dee had fled back to Burnley.

Sandy felt himself slipping into the Slough of Despond where even Pilgrim was ignoring him.  Progress was bad.  (Apologies to John Bunyan).  Sandy fumbled for his matches and lit the black candles, he kissed his upside down cross, shifted his stomach out of the way and then got down on his knees.  “Satan please help me rid myself of this batty old biddy.” he prayed out loud. “She is immune to my spells and oblivious of my insults. What Can I do?” Satan sighed in frustration, still worried that if Sandy came down to Hell then he would have to evict many perfectly functioning demons to make room for him.  Recruiting Sandy had been a big mistake and he wished that he had left him hanging about in the purgatory of soliciting in Leicester Square but it was not too late .

Sandy’s spirits and dead realtives had deserted him and now Satan was about to take flight too but at the last minute Satan took pity on him and rewarded him for lighting the candle and getting down on his knees.  Satan gritted his teeth and gave him the best advice that he could before slamming the door to hell.

“GET OVER IT, GO ON A DIET AND GET A LIFE”

Sandy felt the negative vibes and apart from another five gallons of ice cream there was only one thing that would cheer him up.  He, Leafy, Noddy and Du’Stan would go on the safari they had been promising themselves.  Noddy and Du'stan Big-Ears could act as porters and they would get the money somehow.

Tune in next week to read about their adventures on Safari and find out who wins the wind emissions competition held on the top of Mount Kilimanjaro.

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

Free copies of Pink Piggy Tales

Be sure to look out for your free copy of episodes 6 - 10 of Pink Piggy Tales which is circulating Luxor now.  It is easily recognisable through its cover picture of "Sandy - Dandy of the Grotesque".  (Episodes 1 - 5 are still in circulation).

Devoted readers we know you are shivering with anticipation and will not be disappointed with the next  episode which will be uploaded later today.

***** Pink Piggy Productions Present *****

For one night Only at the Queen'sTheatre, Mahata Street, Luxor

DOGS UNDER A HOT TIN ROOF

a play in one act

by Wennessee Tilliams 

Characters

Sandy                           A Farting Fantasist

Leafy                           A Grunting Groper

Noddy Hasbeen          A Sneaking Snatcher

Bimboli                        A Sexless Snitcher

Du’stan                       A Mealy Mouthed Muppet

Scene:                    

Cell in the local Nick where Sandy is hanging upside down for farting in the face of the chief detective.  Leafy is signing his name on a anomonous letter to one of his victims. Noddy as usual is gesticulating with his cigarette, while polishing his handbag, and Bimboli is sat next to the guillotine in the corner, (like Madame Defarge), busy knitting a codpiece in buttercup yellow to keep Sandy’s little smarties warm. 

Du’stan is asleep in another corner snoring loudly and clutching a bottle of Stella.  He had been brought in pissed as usual after letting off  two and a half seismic belches in the Old Winter Palace and then launching into a drunken diatribe about the "old bitch".  Apparently, the old bitch has them all running around the mulberry bush in circles, achieving nothing but disappearing up you know where. Incidentally, Du'stan is just like Sandy and copies his rantings onto emails then sends them out willy nilly.  The recipients tear them in half and hang them on a nail.

The Curtain Rises - Dialogue

Leafy:  Pointing at Sandy’s nether regions (arse).   “It’ all your folt writin all the crap on yer website to them deduns in coffins.  You know that owd witch alers cums awt on top.  Wiv all’ er money and ‘er connections, ow dost yer expect a load of dropawts like us to win.”  Leafy carries on writing another letter impersonating a woman from Siberia. 

Sandy:  Picking nits out of Bimboli’s hair.   “Wot yer taking abaawt.  Dint I sofan the owd bitch up wiv mi fibs ont website.  Tha don’t know wot thes rattlin on abawt”.

Noddy Hasbeen:  Polishing a genuine crocodile handbag, specially purchased for hitting old aged pensioners. He is feeling particularly sad as his flat has just been involved in an accident with a bulldozer.  “Mi tin a polish is running owt” (whined in a snitched cockney accent).  “and I wont be able ta clean mi pointed shoes” 

Bimboli:  “Sh*t, ave dropt a cuppla stitches in’t crotch.  Aar Sandy's goin’t feel a chill in his smarties”.

Guard:   “If you lot of lowlifes don’t wrap up it’s bread and water for the next two weeks.  None of your ice-cream fatso.  I’m sick of your whining.  You got what you asked for”.

Du’stan    Rolling over and belching again.    “Twen’t me occifer.  Aam innocent.  T’were them wot dun it.  Aam a true queen and queens dont fart".    

Leafy:  Whispering.   “wen I gerowt of ‘ere we’ll cut ‘is telephone wires and block up ‘is locks that’ll show ‘im.

Sandy:  “I’ll commincate wi mu dead connections on mi laptop.  One of um worked fer’t mafia and al get sum advice for ‘im.  A ‘ad lots of experience wi that owd biddy.  And a aint finished wi ‘er yet.  Nofink is over ‘till the fat bird sings.  Aam gud at telling lies.  Aave ad lots of experience wen a woked as a tax dodger in’t UK before I ‘ad to do a runner when it looked like t'other owd git might win his court case agin me. Nine years I plagued 'im and e still wouldnt die"

Noddy Hasbeen   “A want to get married but a don’t ave any money now that the owd bats threw mi owt of mi’ office.  A loved sitting at the big desk all day doin nuffink.  It were a grand life a can tell ya.  A wish a knew who was drivin that bulldozer.  Am sure it looked like that old bag.”

Bimboli    “Does anybody want a piece of old Baked well tart.  I only licked it a bit. Mi mowfs clean has I 'avnt sucked a tonka for a whole week. 'onest”

Guard:  “That’s it you bastards.  Lights out.  Any anymore farts from you and it’s the guillotine." 

 END 

Curtain down.   Rapturous Applause 

6 BAFTA Award Nominations.  

Note from a committe member

We considered naming the computer scammer described in our last posting but decided against it as we do not wallow in the gutter along with some other 'bloggers'.  However, naming him was not necessary.  He has named himself.  His reponse to our posting was as immediate as it was untruthful and vitriolic.

That the scammer recognised himself so quickly and posted elsewhere "In his Defence" shows that we were telling the truth of the matter.  If you read somewhere that a nameless person is a criminal you would not associate it with yourself.  Only the guilty do that.

The scammer identified himself as the culprit immediately.  

Stay away from him.

Computer Scams and Internet Stalking

There is an Englishman in Luxor operating a computer scam that appears to start innocently and then leads to blackmail, extortion and acts of intimidation carried out by his henchmen. 

It works like this.  First he plays the part of your friend and will send you endless emails professing to be delighted to be working with you (up to 23 in one day) and offers to complete a wonderful website for you in record time at a large discount.  Remember the old saying, “if it seems too good to be true then it is too good to be true”.  It is easy to fall for such tricks.  We can assure you that you will live to regret it.

The scam is to get the new website to host a parasitic one that advertises services that would be frowned upon by the authorities and which would ruin the genuine site if it was known.  If the site is discovered his screams  of innocence will be heard all the way to Rome and land at the feet of the Pope where he will prostrate himself and deny all wrong-doing.  This will continue even if you have hard copy of the crime.  Scammers are little bothered by truth even when they are caught with their ‘fingers in the till’.

Next is a demand for more money, coupled with threats to destroy the site.  He will already have boasted to you that he is a hacker who can bring a site down so that it can never be restored.  Should you pay up?  You have two choices.  Pay and expect to keep paying forever or refuse to pay and see the sites destroyed and all your hard work along with it.  Plus, of course, the scammer is hardly likely to give you a refund of what you have paid him.  It is a difficult choice. 

Without extra payment, the site is not only taken down but the scammer and his cohorts will do everything he can to ruin you and your business.  If you complain rather than accepting the destruction of your business, he will set up another site with an almost identical name and will write hundreds of pages of personal abuse about you and your friends; all fictitious of course but truth matters little to the scammer.   Is that the end of it?  No it is just the beginning. 

Next, e-mails are sent under a variety of false names to all your business contacts saying that your business is illegal and that you are a criminal with disgusting habits.  Fortunately your friends and business associates know you and will wonder why a stranger is so interested in your personal life, as will the authorities. 

It is endless.  Next is intimidation.  You could become afraid of passing dark alleys so what do you do?  You go to the police.  First you remember that all you wanted was a website and that it is not your fault if the webmaster is an insane stalker who was out to make money at any cost and at your expense.  Then you tell everyone concerned.  If you do not tell them then they will not know. 

Internet Stalking is as much a crime as any other.  If you find yourself hounded and stalked the best way is to let it be like water off a duck’s back.   It is not going to go away but you can refuse to let it bother you.  Why should anything screamed by a lunatic stranger affect you?  Why should something muttered by a maniac for whom you have no respect, affect you?  When the village whore calls you a slut or a pervert are you upset?  When the village idiot calls you daft would it crush you?  So stand back and let the authorities deal with it.  They will listen.

This scam will happen time and time again unless you are vigilant.  This is a computer age and identity theft and domain theft is rife.  Do you really want obscene e-mails sent in your name because your e-mail has been hacked or have key-loggers appear on your PC to steal your identity and possible raid your bank account.

At present this man is working his way through charities.   He is advertising that he will complete websites for charities without payment.  Do not fall for it.  Do not let it be your charity or your business.  Through his lies and threats, he has deliberately and shamelessly caused problems for all of Luxor’s legitimate charities.  He has no soul only a dark pit of bile and obsessive vengeance.  Unfortunately he does not work alone but has henchmen who do the same thing. 

If you want a website go to someone you have known for a long while and trust completely or go to someone whose business is registered, not to someone who is working without a license and is  conning the Egyptian government out of its taxes.  If he is conning them, then he will con you.  If you have had a site completed by these con artists then get it checked out to make sure that nothing is attached to it and that you are not the unwilling host of a porn site or a pseudo psychic site that could ruin your business.

He is a proven liar, a known thief and a fraud who uses a false name. 

He is totally obsessive and a dangerous psychopath

  Warning - Stay away from him at all costs.    

This is not a fictitious Pink Piggy Tale, it is a genuine warning.

                News Extra - Pink Piggy Profiles

At a recent meeting of our writers it was unanimously agreed to create another member to join our happy band of fictional misfits.  This one is a dandy by any terms and you are going to split your sides with mirth.  Make sure your insurance is up to scratch.

Guess what, he’s another farter, but a verbal one.  Out they belch punctuated by so many slurps of the old Stella that sales have rocketed and the factory has gone on double shifts and, on occasion, the employees have gone on strike due to exhaustion.

I know you are dying to know his name, well its dear Dunstan, another fictional Mancunian we have decided to import.  Manchester is where most of England’s comedians originate from and this one is a prototype.  Visible from afar due to his girth competing with that of dear Sandy, he has perfected the art of putting listeners to sleep in less than 2 minutes. He would make a first class hypnotist even though he would never look you in the eyes in case you saw what was hidden behind his.

Do we ever exaggerate, certainly not.  Since Dunstan’s arrival the local newspapers have also gone on strike as this know-it-all spreads his gossip and slander left, right and centre field. Long before the newspapers roll of the press his diatribes pour out like the waters of Niagara. On one occasion he was known to mesmerise a rampant buffalo in 5 minutes and its milk has been sour ever since.  An approaching Dunstan can cause a stampede for the exit that rivals what happened when the iceberg hit the Titanic. Unfortunately, Dunstan doesn’t go down with the ship he hangs around with his camera to take shots of others drowning.  His original nickname was Satellite because he went round and round the world beaming out gossip and lies at a greater speed than any news station.

Do increase your insurance on your family jewels. Dunstan has a penchant for attempting to enter your private property by the back entrance.  Keep this door firmly shut and a neon flashing ‘keep out’ sign has been known to discourage him.  Insist he enters by the front door in the normal manner, after ringing the door bell and requesting permission to enter.

Dear readers, our editor has asked each one of us in turn to give you a small bio of our everyday lives. I am delighted to do so. I shall soon celebrate my 85th God willing and friends call me Phoebe and my best friend is Clarissa.

We met long ago when we were students at Cheltenham Ladies College.  She had a career in government but mummy insisted I stayed at home and help her control the servants, you know what they’re like if not supervised.  It was a full time occupation in our town house in Upper Belgravia, not to mention our country residence outside Bath. Daddy was often away, especially at night running his photography business in some place called Soho.  Of course, it was mainly a hobby as our family’s investments in sugar in the West Indies have always been enough to keep us above the poverty belt.

Nowadays, I spend most of my days painting darling little watercolours and crocheting little mats to put under my treasures.  Of course, writing those titbits about the denizens of Luxor takes up a large portion of my time. My favourite character is darling Noddy. Incidentally, Clarissa has a flat in Luxor and visits it every winter and a young man does all her housework and caters to all her needs.  I believe he can’t do enough.

I live in a small flat in Chelsea and have two delightful young men living in the next flat to mine.  So helpful they are, Clarence is a window dresser at Harvey Nichols and his friend Mark specialises in l8th century watercolours at Christies.  They have two delightful Fragonards on their wall, he of course was French (1732-1806) and specialised in painting aristocratic ladies in flamboyant gowns cavorting on swings, and young athletic men dressed in silk tights with the most BULGING crotches you have ever seen.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWW.

 p.s. Is that Cooks travel agency, yes, well book me a one-way ticket to Luxor for next Wednesday. Yes, the Old Winter Palace will do quite well, and have a limo meet me at the airport with a sexy driver.  Yes! That’s what I said, are you F.....G deaf!

All potential buyers of property in Luxor should be very careful at the moment and should thoroughly check not only the true ownership of the land they are interested in but all the town plans which show the properties that are scheduled for demolition.

There are a lot of properties on the West Bank which were illegally built on Government land especially in Qwabawy and on the Ramla near Gezira.   In some cases potential buyers are being advised by the owners of the buildings and some unscrupulous Estate Agents that the land and buildings are “safe”.  This is not the case and some owners are desperate to sell before their properties are demolished as scheduled.  The same is occurring near Karnak where there has been land clearance near Karnak Temple.

All buyers should be very vigilant.  If the land is legally owned then compensation from the Government is comparable to the property value but if the building was erected illegally on Government land then compensation is small compared with the sums of money that change hands in the deal.  It is not just Egyptians that are involved in these scams, Europeans are also trying to cash in to rid themselves of properties that they bought at rock bottom prices in illegal deals and they care nothing for those that they cheat.

Love Luxor   Love  Egypt

By Christopher Wisherwood et al   

With Leafy’s absence in Hurghada  and Sandy’s incarceration in hospital their safari trip had to be postponed.  Leafy could not get a visa ‘cos’ nobody believed their photos.  Sandy was too huge and Leafy was too grey and this would cause confusion and panic in the elephants.  The Serengeti lions were very disappointed at seeing a year’s worth of food being lost and a fortune is being lost in tourist revenue as most of the animals have gone into hiding.. 

Feeling gloomy after the cancellation of the safari and of the wedding through the escape of the imprisoned ‘groom’ Sandy thought that he had no option but to try and ingratiate himself with similar lowlifes in the ‘hood.  His latest cunning plan was to go into a trance and let out Mandy Peanuts so that he could develop a website that would offer expert tuition in lying.  This new site would provide an internet platform where the most prolific liars could practise and publish their efforts anonymously.  As Aunty Bimboli was likely to be the only contributor they would stress that there was no need to pay attention to spelling or grammar. 

The only thing that they could not agree upon on was the name.   Should it be "Fat-Falsifiers.com" or "Portly-Prevaricators.com".  Mandy wanted to call it “Farting-Fiddlers.com”  or “Ponces-in-Posing-Pouches.com” but there was an objection from Aunty Bimboli  who was feeling left out especially as her suggestion of calling the new site “Brilliant-Bimbos.com” was rejected without discussion.  The idea that she had the brain to be brilliant was too big a lie for anyone to swallow. 

Against all odds, the new site immediately attracted another member to the gay mafia called Noddy Hasbeen.  Noddy had just come out of the closet and chosen Leafy and Sandy as his new best friends.  Noddy was already an excellent liar and had excelled himself in bringing shame on his British Passport but thought that he needed more tuition and so he readily paid the 25 le fee which Sandy demanded.  (A sum of money dear readers which is sufficient to get Leafy back to Luxor if Sandy buys him a bus ticket.)

Rumour had it that the British Passport was acquired from an Irish Navvy after a steamy session behind the Place de le Concorde in Paris.  Recent investigations suggest that Nobby was conceived on the dirt floor of a small village north of Kathmandu where he learned to scrape in the filth surrounding him.  Unfortunately there is nothing that sticks like sh*t and despite spending two years in elementary school under Jesuit tuition, the smell still lingers.  Actually we believe that is just another rumour and that he is really another Burnley fugitive but of course we cannot prove it.

Noddy’s first lesson led to a performance that would have done justice to Bette Davis in her heyday with cigarette poised at the ready and pointed shoes a twinkling, except for the bunion that was giving him and everyone else a pain in the a*se.  Unfortunately he got carried away with the performance and he hit a visitor with his handbag after being told that he did not like bananas.  Only the benevolence of his accuser saved him from 6 months in a chain gang.  Actually Noddy was looking forward to a sojourn (a new word for Sandy with his repetitive vocabulary) in the local clink as he had heard of the lurid activities that sometimes went on there from our miscreants after their brief incarceration (another word for Sandy, what a doll!!) for posing as the Dolly Sisters in see-through plastic knickers.  Sandy was actually (repeating the word actually to keep Sandy happy)  rightly indignant at being accused of indecent exposure as he had little or nothing to show.

After his little tussle, Noddy was released on bail (35 pence) and quickly ran back to Sandy’s comforting arms for a little suckle at his ample breast.  Dear Sandy was ready and waiting with arms akimbo (hands on hips – and what hips at 102 inches and still spreading).  In his usual charitable style he went into another trance so that E J Eyesore could poison-finger all his news on her ancient laptop.  It was to be the first episode in their “Tell-A-Tall-Tale.com” website. 

Sandy’s doctor has advised him to get off his ar*e, get some exercise and get a life.  What a hope.  That would be like telling Count Dracula to become a vegetarian.  Malaish.

Will Leafy get back from Hurghada or will Sandy spend the 25 le on chocolate?  Will their new disciple learn to be as good a liar as Sandy is?  Tune in the same time next week to find out.  Look our also for the Secret Diaries.  We now think that we are prime contenders for the Pulitzer Prize in fiction and have started on our acceptance speech.

Both our fictional miscreants are sad men.  They do not have one happy day in their miserable lives but then neither do the boys that they prey on or the people that they threaten and steal from, so there is some justice in this world.  

If there is a real life Sandy or Leafy in Luxor then they should spend their lives on their knees asking forgiveness for the way they have ruined lives but of course they never will.  How many abusers ever admit to their crimes?