The Curse of Arrse
|Gather round the fire ARRSErs great and small, for I have a tale of terror for ye...|
Yes folks, I don't want to frighten you, but amongst the many powers given to the Arrse moderators is the ability to invoke the Curse of Arrse against anyone who even mildly pisses them off.
Perhaps you die as Caubeen and LNV did, perhaps you Grand Slam in your CO's prize Bentley, perhaps you are outed as a walting mong or perhaps you end up openly mocked by the entire nation as some of the residents of Ashtead, Surrey were. The curse varies but expect irony and unpleasantness and a certain amount of humour for all true ARRSErs to be the result of a damn fine cursing.
The latest victim of the Curse of Arrse is none other than James Shortt. Not content with a having a bogus CV as long as Big John Holmes's schlong, he threatened several Arrsers with legal action when they started to take the piss out of him. Oh dear. Bad mistake. Shortt has now featured in less than complimentary articles in The Sun, Private Eye and The Phoenix, which is Ireland's entirely fabulous satirical gossip magazine, as well as being the subject of around 400 pages of invective on Arrse, and much negative commentary on security industry and martial arts websites around the world. In fact, a little bird tells me that Shortt is a subject of some disquiet amongst the senior echelons of the SAS and Parachute Regiment regimental associations. Uh oh! Jimbo, it's all going downhill from here.
In other words ... Watch it!