How it came to be that my big little brother became the famous super hero "Captain Kellog" (Also known as the self ceaning bottom method)

when my bro was 17-18 he and his drinking buddies would congregate at someones house when parents were away. On this occasion he stopped over at the guy with small ringpiece problem. I think i called him Keith.


Anyway, all lashed up everone crashes i keiths room. He had a double bed and there were three or four blokes in their.


In the morning there is a dreadful farty smell and everyone gets up. At somepoint my bro starts to piece things together and just as he is wondering how his midnight trip to the lavatory turned out he reaches down his pants to scratch his arse. It is at this point that he discovers that between his underpants and his bottom are a large selection of corflakes that have smeared all over the place during the night and then baked off to become quite firm.


Needless to say, he made sure he was the last person to get up.


And that dear reader is how my big bro became captain kellogg.

The Horrible story.

It goes like this.......


Many years ago, back in Sheffield, my big little brother was a chippie. He worked for the council and he had a work mate went by the name of Dave. Dave was a lovely lad. He had the cheekiest smile of anyone ever and a sense of humour to match it. He eventually got the boot cos him and my brother were ridning round sheffield and david was riding shotgun. Well not really shotgun, more like peashooter to be honest. Someone who was the victim of his reckless peashooetering got the van number plate and complained to the council resulting in his dismissal. I am amazed they didn't get it in the neck sooner actually. I was doing my A-levels at the time and i would be ina nd out of the hose splitting my time between the butchers where i worked and at college. My big little brother and Dave would often be at my mam and dads during worktime The works van would be parked outside and they would be inside doing a bit of "urban reconoissance", which usually involved having a nice cup of tea and a biscuit and watching videos.


Anyway. Dave told me this story.

Once upon a time, David went to school with a lad who was not too popular. It was his birthday and this lad and his "mates" got horribly lashed in town and eneded up walking home up the East Bank Road, which, if you are from sheffield, you may have fond memories of.

This lad is in a right old state and tries to go for a pee. He gets in a bit of a tangle and his trousers fall down, which was the curse of the button fly. So the poor lad starts running to catch his mates up but his trollies fall round his ankles and he takes a bit of a tumble. The poor lad is left grovelling on the floor with his arse stuck up.


From the injuries he had sustained the hospital were able to piece together the following:

(1) At somepoint, someone was nice enough to use the poor lads ring piece to put his cigarette out.

(2) At another point followinfg the cigarette injury an empty vodka and been inserted eck first up the poor chaps rectum.

(3) Presumably because the bottle would not stay in place, someone had been kind enough to give it a jolly good kick.




Ooooof! thats not the sort of thing you shrug off is it?


Anyway. The next day the wee feller wakes up in hospital in agony and having undergone anal surgery. "WHERE THE FUCKIN ELL AM AH?!!" he screams. Fortunately, his mum and dad were sat next to the bed and were able to provide him with the information.



horrible.