Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Friday, 15 August 2008
Nude Headlice #387.6
Flesh Eating Bug was really 'very sneaky cannibal'
An unnamed man from Nuneaton was speaking about the shock discovery that he was very slowly being eaten by his next door neighbour, Georgia Romero, a hospital anaesthetist, part-time wine-maker and head of the local Chianti society.
The revelations came to light after 6 months, when constant bits and pieces missing from his body, including an earlobe, 3 toes, 2 semi-important fingers and even some excess foreskin, all of which were attributed to necrotising fasciitis by baffled, overworked NHS GPs, were in fact discovered to be the cannibalistic work of crazed, (yet admittedly helpful with shopping, minor repairs etc) Ms Romero.
"Yesterday, I woke up feeling really groggy, as I have done sporadically over the last few months, strangely after my neighbour insisted on giving me a diabetes aversion injection. I felt something nibbling at my left eyelid, thought it was a butterfly or moth, but as I regained full conscious clarity, I realised the neighbour was gently feeding on my face. I suppose my suspicions should have been aroused when she started asking me to bathe in Kraft light French dressing, claiming it was a perfect remedy for tough skin".
Ms Romero was taken into psychiatric care for evaluation, but experts revealed that she is very probably off her fucking nut.
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
Dating: Stand Up Excuse
"I was making you a matchstick model of the Taj Mahal as an introdctory showing off gift, when I inadvertently superglued my face to the ceiling. My faithful dog, Osama, noticed my plight, and attempted to dial your number then put the phone into speakerphone mode. Sadly he transposed the last 2 digits and I ended up calling a Double Glazing call centre. For 7 hours, I pleaded for them to call emergency services, but they had me agree to buy full triple glazing for all the street. Osama didnt bloody transpose my credit card number did he? I was getting quite worried now, so I pushed my shoe loose and kicked it out of the front window, hoping to alert a helpful stranger. Unfortunately it nobbled Scabarms McScumbag, the local drug addict who proceeded to climb in through the broken pane, glued me to the ceiling completely like a human spider, injected me with his used syringe, cut my clothes from me, sexually abused me with the help of a pile of furniture in the middle of the room, then ransacked my house of all valuables, only stopping on his way out to set fire to the chair mountain beneath me. Luckily, to a degree, the house is fitted with a very sensitive fire alarm and sprinkler system, unluckily, the builders were more akin to laying uneven tarmac than the intricacies of internal systems, and had wired the sprinkler to the gas pipe. Once activated, this caused a huge explosion which propelled my ceiling, with me attached, up through the roof and into the street, landing on the poor McScumbag chap, killing my rapist instantly but sadly lacerating my scalded buttocks on my 52" widescreen Toshiba HDTV which he was carrying away at the time. Thankfully, by this time a few neighbours had reported the noises to the relevant authorities. Apart from the tactical aid unit riddling me with rubber bullet ammo due to the impression I was part of a terrorist pact, then the fireman almost choking me to death with damping foam as he thought I was a charcoal efigy of modern art, I ended up in hospital in time to see my tale being guffawed over by Lorraine Kelly & co on This Morning. But I could make tomorrow at 7 if your still interested
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Is there a metaphor or image for your life right now?
Posted: 7/8/2008 5:14:04 PM
A Bumble bee, stuck inside Jose Felicianos guitar, rapidly going deaf while smiling through the pain at the delicious irony as Jose breaks into a rapid version of "Flight of The Bumble Bee" and thinking back to the days when I used to be a W.A.S.P. that people despised, swatted and were prejudiced against for its uselessness in the great scheme of things on Gods experiment planet 20674b(9j).
I am fully expecting the blind guitar virtuosos' guide dog 'Django' to detect that all is not well with his masters version of the tune (although the dog incorrectly interprets the name as Blight of the Fumble Bee), and his cultured bark will alert the Guitarrista to my plight and I shall be left free, with my ears still buzzing, a bit like most of the rest of me.
This relates to how I feel when I've ran out of milk at 1.15am and could murder a nice cup of Yorkshire tea.
A Bumble bee, stuck inside Jose Felicianos guitar, rapidly going deaf while smiling through the pain at the delicious irony as Jose breaks into a rapid version of "Flight of The Bumble Bee" and thinking back to the days when I used to be a W.A.S.P. that people despised, swatted and were prejudiced against for its uselessness in the great scheme of things on Gods experiment planet 20674b(9j).
I am fully expecting the blind guitar virtuosos' guide dog 'Django' to detect that all is not well with his masters version of the tune (although the dog incorrectly interprets the name as Blight of the Fumble Bee), and his cultured bark will alert the Guitarrista to my plight and I shall be left free, with my ears still buzzing, a bit like most of the rest of me.
This relates to how I feel when I've ran out of milk at 1.15am and could murder a nice cup of Yorkshire tea.
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
Friday, 4 April 2008
Sories they may have missed
Police hunt warm-blooded killer
Police in North Yorkshire are appealing for information regarding the death of a 73 year old woman. She was found at her home in Tadcaster on Tuesday, the victim of what officers described as "a sustained pampering, of obscene ferocity". The alarm was raised when neighbours became concerned that the woman, a devout churchgoer and do-gooder hadn't been seen for a few days. Police have a prime suspect, as her son Timothy also hasn't been contactable since the incident. "We believe he has crucial information regarding the death of his overbearing mother, and normally would warn the public not to approach him, but in this case, he's a really charming boy and we would urge people to invite him in for tea and scones".
Hairdresser opens 'quiet holiday resorts' website
Bob Braids, a Barnet hairstylist, was today celebrating the success of his new Quiet Breaks website. "Well for years, we've been asking people about their upcoming holidays. Most thought it was merely small-talk, but in reality I was taking down all the dates, locations, and durations then correlating the infomation and analysing which resorts were going to be less busy each season." He is also believed to be working on a new site informing customers about a myriad of things they could get up to for the coming weekend.
'King is permissable terror target' says govt.
Twisted mouth paedophile Johnathan King, famed for inflicting banal attempts at 'music' upon the public, and then boasting about his child-buggering antics on national television has gone too far. His release of the Harold Shipman sonnet on Youpube has not only angered families of Doctor Deaths victims, but has also made Salman Rushdie breath a little easier as he is no longer the most death-threatened UK resident. In reaction to Kings bizarre diatribe, Gordon Brown has openly invited all terrorist organisations to 'take him out, please' with no repercussions, for this once in a lifetime chance to eradicate a really deserving target. William Hill said early favourites at (4/1) were the I.R.A. who may be tempted to come out of retirement for old times sake. Gerry Adams wasnt available for comment, as he was recovering from an undisclosed but amusing moustache-based incident.
Cold caller dies of hypothermia
Door to door double glazing salesman Hugh Peeveesea was found dead in a Swansea street this morning, apparently from acute hypothermia. A shocked neighbour commented, "He had been hounding me for about 20 minutes about how much I could save on heating costs with their new windows, now this. Its ironic isnt it?" Attempts to interview other inhabitants of the street were met with a frosty reception.
Carbon Dating' - New singles club for OAPs opens
Join today
and reap some of our benefits included;
free candlelit puree'd meal
alzheimers sufferers welcome
nude bingo every thursday
50 brands of gin available at bar
weak tea and boring biscuits also served
alzheimers sufferers welcome
bring-a-waterbottle nights
colostomy friendly
alzheimers sufferers welcome
huge Louis L'amour & Danielle Steel reading room
rocking chairs
knitting circle (no sharing needles!)
rude care-workers welcome
Stamp Collector finally realises 'Philately Gets You Nowhere'
Popeye Dolls to sue Simon Cowell for name theft
Turkish Earthquake produces 'Perfect Milkshake'
Pop Stars bad lyrics lead to Poetic Licence being Revoked
Girl Guide & Boy Scout Leaders tie the knot
Mini Pringles to replace communion wafer
Silent Bob in Lip Sync Shocker!
Exorcising Demons makes them fitter – report
Housewarming Party to stand in next general election
TV presenters alcohol shame - Jamie Theakstons bitter.
Birds Eye wins Nobel Peas Prize
George Burns - firefighters on standby
Bernard Matthews arrested in Serial Culler probe
Mmmmmmore later..
Mystery Laundry Masturbator Comes Clean
Depp arrested in DVD Piracy scandal.
Johnny 'Le Crepe' Depp, Hollywood heart-throb and pancake tossing champion has been arrested amid sensational scenes at Buccaneer Studios, Cleethorpes. It appeared on the surface that Depp was doing beneficial work for charity, apparently handing out 'How to be a winning tosser' DVDs to the poor people of Eastern England, when in fact on closer inspection it was apparent that Depp and his entourage of bohemian hangers-on had doctored the packaging and wereselling copies as "Pirates of The Carribean 4 - The Unmade Quadrilogy". As word spread, thousands of damp gusseted and wet brained fans flocked to Depps caravan-cum-sales outlet at an un-named motorway services on the M28, eager to hand over 30 quid for a signed copy of the 'new movie'. Local Police constable Ivor Bigtruncheon commented, "I couldnt give a shit to be honest, I aways preferred Nicholas Cage meself". Depp was unavailable for comment, but will be in pantomime at Lincoln Prison from November onwards. (Discounts available for inmates' ofspring)
Lego to put cornflake in promotional toy packs
After years of Kellogs attempting to choke children with small plastic gifts in cereal boxes, alien plastic brick company Lego, based in Europe, are exacting revenge by inserting a random cereal piece in each of their new Coloured Brick Bags Collection. "It may be a cornflake, a rice crispie, even a golden graham, but one things for sure, it wont be a weetabix!" said a bloke stood outside the Lego factory
.
Shock Report; Mobile phones cause verbal diarrhoea
Since the popularity of phones has rocketed in the last 5 years, so has the amount of banal shit being bandied around the globe. "Giving illiterate clowns a phone, when they can barely string a sentence together, (far less text legibly) is akin to giving a small child a mini motorcycle. Annoying, perverse, and quite frankly, wrong" said spokesperson Miss Rabblecow, of Mobcom, the gov. watchdog for something or another.
Wife Beating lessons on the NHS?
Hair-trigger temper men across Britain awoke to the news that they may soon be able to hone their partner bruising skills for free, via a new Government incentive scheme. Police chiefs had recently reported the amount of officer hours wasted on domestics that were little more than 'slanging matches' was rising, keeping officers from attending real crimes like people spitting in public, or kids shouting from buses. "The NHS has recently come into possession of hundreds of empty baby units in hospitals across the country, providing a perfect training scenario for dad to give mum a good whack in the eye over the little 'uns cot. We will be concentrating on facial bruising impact maximisation, developing language skills for more colourful spouse abuse, and advising women on plausible excuses for having a face like a drop-kicked watermelon. Also, we will be selling a competitively priced 'winter sunshades' collection for perfecting that just-had-my-eye-socket-destroyed look for those mouthy missys", commented Esther Rantzen, the initiative co-ordinator.
Cocky peanut antics new no.1 cause of death
Show off binge-drinkers with garish cheap shirts have always been famous for their cheesy, unimaginative chat-up lines, inability to hold down relationships, and inability to eat kebabs without wearing most of it, but now they are leading in a much less envied category, Death!
Recent research has revealed that the old 'catch a falling peanut' trick, with the humourous 'double-act' variation (where your mate chucks it down your gullet at high speed) has rocketed to number one in the British death method charts, overtaking the ever popular 'pissing on the live rail' More later, definitely. (Maybe)
Man In The Moon to retire
After serving grandly for as long as anyone can remember, the Man In The Moon is hanging up his face and calling it a day. At an emotional press conference M.I.T.M. (real name Hoke Slunerlanding) cited the smell of green cheese, old age and new technology as the main reasons for his decision. "In the good old days I loved it, nice clear space every night, earth scientists giving my craters admirable names like Sea of Ingenuity. I was admired by everybody, every night. Nowadays though its like a traffic jam up there! Near misses with satellites, space debris, Sci-Fi film crews, its getting scary for an old 'un like myself. And with all the new fangled telescopes, no-one even bothers with me any more, too busy looking at Jupiter, Neptune, or deep space. Plus, the green cheese up there really needs changing. But overall Ive had a great career and wouldn't change it for the world . . . well, err maybe the world." Rumours that the vacant position of person-in-the-moon would be filled by Jade Goody were rife yesterday. A spokesman said, "Well, she does have a moon face, and it would keep her well out of harms way, as theres no-one to bully or racially abuse up there, but we are keeping our options open"
Racist Jo O'Meara forms new band - SS Klub Sieben
Big Brother xenophobe Jo has capitalised on her notoriety by jumping straight into the recording studio with her neo-pop combo. With Holocaust denier David Irving on the mixing decks, BNP leader Nick Griffin on drums, and Danielle 'sheep' Lloyd waggling her bits out front, it promises to be an interesting outing to say the least. The first release, an adapted cover version of a Madonna classic, aptly named 'Poppadom Preach' from 'The Final Solution' EP is available to download from smallmindedfuckwits.com, sadly Jade Goody had to be ommitted from the project, due to a miraculous development of colour blindness meaning her bigotry couldnt be objective.
'Zero Times Table Scrapped'
Never again will we hear the dulcet tones of 5 year-olds reciting 'one times zero is zero, two times zero is zero' etc. Education chiefs have erased the Zero Times Table recitation from the school curriculum, but deny its another streamlining tactic. "We just felt it was outdated, outmoded, and outlandish, but the time saved will be spent on teaching the children to be able to recite their parents current medication and narcotic intake, as there are growing numbers of cases of overdosing and accidents, when doctors require this information urgently"
Time Machine 'was really a wardrobe'
Police have arrested a man on suspicion of endangerment to life, fraud, and obtaining money by deception. It appeared that his offer of 'forward time travel' was merely a ploy to dupe ignorant people who had failed basic science and philosophy at college. One victim said "When I arrived, I paid the GBP5000 fee, and was escorted to a room where I was supplied with 8 litres of water, a bag of apples, toilet roll and an issue of 'The Sun' (the last two were interchangable). Then I was asked to step into the 'Time Machine' and told that I would be transported forward in time, but due to technical difficulties, it would only be a week into the future. Seven days later, when the wardrobe was unlocked by an activated timer, and I was released, I was greeted by a chorus of applause (taped off an episode of Trisha I believe) and a banner reading 'Welcome to The Future' there was a note on the table explaining that whilst I'd been in the wardrobe, 7 days had elapsed in the outside world, and I should go out immediately and explore the state of 'Future Earth'. After it sunk it that I had been duped, I crawled back in the wardrobe, cried, and prayed that Narnia would open and swallow me up'". The dupester was arrested when a professional lockpicker on his annual leave went on the future experience, and broke out of the wardrobe, catching the dupester laughing his tits off on the floor, covered in bank notes. Proceeding.
Police given more time to question stutterer
Perranporth Police have been given an extra 48 hours, and anti-spray masks to interview Serial Stutterer Peter Piper. He is in police custody on charges of possessing porn, perjury, puppy painting, pissing in a public place, peppercorn pilfering and punching Peter Purvis. "We think the excess 'p' related crimes have caused Peter problems" said Chief Inspector Pedro Papaya, "it took us over an hour just to get him to tell us his name"
.Australian Internet pages 'stuck upside-down'
An internet crisis looms as it has emerged that all pages originating 'down under' but viewed in the Northern Hemisphere are upside-down. Many of our readers who spend time surfing Australian pornography sites, (famed for their recent 'Abo Titmuss' expose) will already be aware of this, but too ashamed to say anything.
Oliver Twist named and shamed
Young Twist, famous for 'food, glorious food' and 'please sir can i have some more' has been named by MPs as the number one cause of Londons begging and busking problem. Spokesman Curt Minister said "If it wasnt for that musical little upstart, these drug users, beggars and bad guitarists and pan-pipers would have been dead yonks ago"
Police in North Yorkshire are appealing for information regarding the death of a 73 year old woman. She was found at her home in Tadcaster on Tuesday, the victim of what officers described as "a sustained pampering, of obscene ferocity". The alarm was raised when neighbours became concerned that the woman, a devout churchgoer and do-gooder hadn't been seen for a few days. Police have a prime suspect, as her son Timothy also hasn't been contactable since the incident. "We believe he has crucial information regarding the death of his overbearing mother, and normally would warn the public not to approach him, but in this case, he's a really charming boy and we would urge people to invite him in for tea and scones".
Hairdresser opens 'quiet holiday resorts' website
Bob Braids, a Barnet hairstylist, was today celebrating the success of his new Quiet Breaks website. "Well for years, we've been asking people about their upcoming holidays. Most thought it was merely small-talk, but in reality I was taking down all the dates, locations, and durations then correlating the infomation and analysing which resorts were going to be less busy each season." He is also believed to be working on a new site informing customers about a myriad of things they could get up to for the coming weekend.
'King is permissable terror target' says govt.
Twisted mouth paedophile Johnathan King, famed for inflicting banal attempts at 'music' upon the public, and then boasting about his child-buggering antics on national television has gone too far. His release of the Harold Shipman sonnet on Youpube has not only angered families of Doctor Deaths victims, but has also made Salman Rushdie breath a little easier as he is no longer the most death-threatened UK resident. In reaction to Kings bizarre diatribe, Gordon Brown has openly invited all terrorist organisations to 'take him out, please' with no repercussions, for this once in a lifetime chance to eradicate a really deserving target. William Hill said early favourites at (4/1) were the I.R.A. who may be tempted to come out of retirement for old times sake. Gerry Adams wasnt available for comment, as he was recovering from an undisclosed but amusing moustache-based incident.
Cold caller dies of hypothermia
Door to door double glazing salesman Hugh Peeveesea was found dead in a Swansea street this morning, apparently from acute hypothermia. A shocked neighbour commented, "He had been hounding me for about 20 minutes about how much I could save on heating costs with their new windows, now this. Its ironic isnt it?" Attempts to interview other inhabitants of the street were met with a frosty reception.
Carbon Dating' - New singles club for OAPs opens
Join today
and reap some of our benefits included;
free candlelit puree'd meal
alzheimers sufferers welcome
nude bingo every thursday
50 brands of gin available at bar
weak tea and boring biscuits also served
alzheimers sufferers welcome
bring-a-waterbottle nights
colostomy friendly
alzheimers sufferers welcome
huge Louis L'amour & Danielle Steel reading room
rocking chairs
knitting circle (no sharing needles!)
rude care-workers welcome
Stamp Collector finally realises 'Philately Gets You Nowhere'
Popeye Dolls to sue Simon Cowell for name theft
Turkish Earthquake produces 'Perfect Milkshake'
Pop Stars bad lyrics lead to Poetic Licence being Revoked
Girl Guide & Boy Scout Leaders tie the knot
Mini Pringles to replace communion wafer
Silent Bob in Lip Sync Shocker!
Exorcising Demons makes them fitter – report
Housewarming Party to stand in next general election
TV presenters alcohol shame - Jamie Theakstons bitter.
Birds Eye wins Nobel Peas Prize
George Burns - firefighters on standby
Bernard Matthews arrested in Serial Culler probe
Mmmmmmore later..
Mystery Laundry Masturbator Comes Clean
Depp arrested in DVD Piracy scandal.
Johnny 'Le Crepe' Depp, Hollywood heart-throb and pancake tossing champion has been arrested amid sensational scenes at Buccaneer Studios, Cleethorpes. It appeared on the surface that Depp was doing beneficial work for charity, apparently handing out 'How to be a winning tosser' DVDs to the poor people of Eastern England, when in fact on closer inspection it was apparent that Depp and his entourage of bohemian hangers-on had doctored the packaging and wereselling copies as "Pirates of The Carribean 4 - The Unmade Quadrilogy". As word spread, thousands of damp gusseted and wet brained fans flocked to Depps caravan-cum-sales outlet at an un-named motorway services on the M28, eager to hand over 30 quid for a signed copy of the 'new movie'. Local Police constable Ivor Bigtruncheon commented, "I couldnt give a shit to be honest, I aways preferred Nicholas Cage meself". Depp was unavailable for comment, but will be in pantomime at Lincoln Prison from November onwards. (Discounts available for inmates' ofspring)
Lego to put cornflake in promotional toy packs
After years of Kellogs attempting to choke children with small plastic gifts in cereal boxes, alien plastic brick company Lego, based in Europe, are exacting revenge by inserting a random cereal piece in each of their new Coloured Brick Bags Collection. "It may be a cornflake, a rice crispie, even a golden graham, but one things for sure, it wont be a weetabix!" said a bloke stood outside the Lego factory
.
Shock Report; Mobile phones cause verbal diarrhoea
Since the popularity of phones has rocketed in the last 5 years, so has the amount of banal shit being bandied around the globe. "Giving illiterate clowns a phone, when they can barely string a sentence together, (far less text legibly) is akin to giving a small child a mini motorcycle. Annoying, perverse, and quite frankly, wrong" said spokesperson Miss Rabblecow, of Mobcom, the gov. watchdog for something or another.
Wife Beating lessons on the NHS?
Hair-trigger temper men across Britain awoke to the news that they may soon be able to hone their partner bruising skills for free, via a new Government incentive scheme. Police chiefs had recently reported the amount of officer hours wasted on domestics that were little more than 'slanging matches' was rising, keeping officers from attending real crimes like people spitting in public, or kids shouting from buses. "The NHS has recently come into possession of hundreds of empty baby units in hospitals across the country, providing a perfect training scenario for dad to give mum a good whack in the eye over the little 'uns cot. We will be concentrating on facial bruising impact maximisation, developing language skills for more colourful spouse abuse, and advising women on plausible excuses for having a face like a drop-kicked watermelon. Also, we will be selling a competitively priced 'winter sunshades' collection for perfecting that just-had-my-eye-socket-destroyed look for those mouthy missys", commented Esther Rantzen, the initiative co-ordinator.
Cocky peanut antics new no.1 cause of death
Show off binge-drinkers with garish cheap shirts have always been famous for their cheesy, unimaginative chat-up lines, inability to hold down relationships, and inability to eat kebabs without wearing most of it, but now they are leading in a much less envied category, Death!
Recent research has revealed that the old 'catch a falling peanut' trick, with the humourous 'double-act' variation (where your mate chucks it down your gullet at high speed) has rocketed to number one in the British death method charts, overtaking the ever popular 'pissing on the live rail' More later, definitely. (Maybe)
Man In The Moon to retire
After serving grandly for as long as anyone can remember, the Man In The Moon is hanging up his face and calling it a day. At an emotional press conference M.I.T.M. (real name Hoke Slunerlanding) cited the smell of green cheese, old age and new technology as the main reasons for his decision. "In the good old days I loved it, nice clear space every night, earth scientists giving my craters admirable names like Sea of Ingenuity. I was admired by everybody, every night. Nowadays though its like a traffic jam up there! Near misses with satellites, space debris, Sci-Fi film crews, its getting scary for an old 'un like myself. And with all the new fangled telescopes, no-one even bothers with me any more, too busy looking at Jupiter, Neptune, or deep space. Plus, the green cheese up there really needs changing. But overall Ive had a great career and wouldn't change it for the world . . . well, err maybe the world." Rumours that the vacant position of person-in-the-moon would be filled by Jade Goody were rife yesterday. A spokesman said, "Well, she does have a moon face, and it would keep her well out of harms way, as theres no-one to bully or racially abuse up there, but we are keeping our options open"
Racist Jo O'Meara forms new band - SS Klub Sieben
Big Brother xenophobe Jo has capitalised on her notoriety by jumping straight into the recording studio with her neo-pop combo. With Holocaust denier David Irving on the mixing decks, BNP leader Nick Griffin on drums, and Danielle 'sheep' Lloyd waggling her bits out front, it promises to be an interesting outing to say the least. The first release, an adapted cover version of a Madonna classic, aptly named 'Poppadom Preach' from 'The Final Solution' EP is available to download from smallmindedfuckwits.com, sadly Jade Goody had to be ommitted from the project, due to a miraculous development of colour blindness meaning her bigotry couldnt be objective.
'Zero Times Table Scrapped'
Never again will we hear the dulcet tones of 5 year-olds reciting 'one times zero is zero, two times zero is zero' etc. Education chiefs have erased the Zero Times Table recitation from the school curriculum, but deny its another streamlining tactic. "We just felt it was outdated, outmoded, and outlandish, but the time saved will be spent on teaching the children to be able to recite their parents current medication and narcotic intake, as there are growing numbers of cases of overdosing and accidents, when doctors require this information urgently"
Time Machine 'was really a wardrobe'
Police have arrested a man on suspicion of endangerment to life, fraud, and obtaining money by deception. It appeared that his offer of 'forward time travel' was merely a ploy to dupe ignorant people who had failed basic science and philosophy at college. One victim said "When I arrived, I paid the GBP5000 fee, and was escorted to a room where I was supplied with 8 litres of water, a bag of apples, toilet roll and an issue of 'The Sun' (the last two were interchangable). Then I was asked to step into the 'Time Machine' and told that I would be transported forward in time, but due to technical difficulties, it would only be a week into the future. Seven days later, when the wardrobe was unlocked by an activated timer, and I was released, I was greeted by a chorus of applause (taped off an episode of Trisha I believe) and a banner reading 'Welcome to The Future' there was a note on the table explaining that whilst I'd been in the wardrobe, 7 days had elapsed in the outside world, and I should go out immediately and explore the state of 'Future Earth'. After it sunk it that I had been duped, I crawled back in the wardrobe, cried, and prayed that Narnia would open and swallow me up'". The dupester was arrested when a professional lockpicker on his annual leave went on the future experience, and broke out of the wardrobe, catching the dupester laughing his tits off on the floor, covered in bank notes. Proceeding.
Police given more time to question stutterer
Perranporth Police have been given an extra 48 hours, and anti-spray masks to interview Serial Stutterer Peter Piper. He is in police custody on charges of possessing porn, perjury, puppy painting, pissing in a public place, peppercorn pilfering and punching Peter Purvis. "We think the excess 'p' related crimes have caused Peter problems" said Chief Inspector Pedro Papaya, "it took us over an hour just to get him to tell us his name"
.Australian Internet pages 'stuck upside-down'
An internet crisis looms as it has emerged that all pages originating 'down under' but viewed in the Northern Hemisphere are upside-down. Many of our readers who spend time surfing Australian pornography sites, (famed for their recent 'Abo Titmuss' expose) will already be aware of this, but too ashamed to say anything.
Oliver Twist named and shamed
Young Twist, famous for 'food, glorious food' and 'please sir can i have some more' has been named by MPs as the number one cause of Londons begging and busking problem. Spokesman Curt Minister said "If it wasnt for that musical little upstart, these drug users, beggars and bad guitarists and pan-pipers would have been dead yonks ago"
I got Yule Babe
I Got Yule Babe
It has emerged that in the wake of Saddam Hussein’s fall from grace, (and the gallows) both warring Muslim factions in Iraq have decided to lay down there arms and pick up their microphones to record a cover version of popular 60s song 'I Got You Babe'. It will be released in time for the January sales bargain bucket in sub-standard record stores nationwide, under the eponymous title of 'Sunni & Shia'. Rumours that the 'b' side will be a cover of the original Sonny & Cher’s 'A Cowboys Work Is Never Done' as a tribute to George UU Bush are unfounded, and probably bulls*%t. Rumours that the 'c' side resort of Wolverhampton will be Saddams final resting place are also unsubstantiated. Seen as a move to bring peace to a highly volatile part of the middle east, despite the constant interfering and bullying by the enlightened westerners, most people gave a very positive response to the news. One man, who wished to remain nameless (but was christened Andrew Johnson when he was a baby) said "I think its wonderful that the Sunnites & Shiites can put their differences aside for the sake of a rollickingly good love ditty". All proceeds of the single will go towards buying extra camouflage for the already well hidden 'Iraq Lawnmower Corporation' which is dubiously believed to house many of Saddams rumoured Weapons of Grass Reduction.
It has emerged that in the wake of Saddam Hussein’s fall from grace, (and the gallows) both warring Muslim factions in Iraq have decided to lay down there arms and pick up their microphones to record a cover version of popular 60s song 'I Got You Babe'. It will be released in time for the January sales bargain bucket in sub-standard record stores nationwide, under the eponymous title of 'Sunni & Shia'. Rumours that the 'b' side will be a cover of the original Sonny & Cher’s 'A Cowboys Work Is Never Done' as a tribute to George UU Bush are unfounded, and probably bulls*%t. Rumours that the 'c' side resort of Wolverhampton will be Saddams final resting place are also unsubstantiated. Seen as a move to bring peace to a highly volatile part of the middle east, despite the constant interfering and bullying by the enlightened westerners, most people gave a very positive response to the news. One man, who wished to remain nameless (but was christened Andrew Johnson when he was a baby) said "I think its wonderful that the Sunnites & Shiites can put their differences aside for the sake of a rollickingly good love ditty". All proceeds of the single will go towards buying extra camouflage for the already well hidden 'Iraq Lawnmower Corporation' which is dubiously believed to house many of Saddams rumoured Weapons of Grass Reduction.
Letter Spray
Dear Mahavishnu Burybobz
Was JFK assassinated by the American government or was Lee Harvey Oswald guilty! Although the evidence is almost indisputable I would like to put my mind at rest once for all knowing that you have set my mind on the correct path!
Your devout follower
Dave ‘Bugzy’ Fribbins
Dearest Dave
JFK, the first American president to be named after an airport, was actually the orchestrator of one of the most complex suicides of all time.
By the brilliant ploy of using a boy named Oswald, a name people would come to use as a toilet cleaner, even though some folks still insisted on calling him Patsy, due to his startling rendition of 'Crazy' as Jack Ruby filed him full o' lead, well, Kennedy could (a) Not have to compromise his principles regarding the Vietnam War, (b) Get shut of Jackie 'Onassis' coz she wouldn’t share his surname, because Jackie Kennedy sounds like a £15-a-go brass lamp you might back-scuttle on the Liffey Bridge (c) This enabled him to spend the afterlife sucking on Marilyn 'I was here first Manson' Monroe’s ample charms for all eternity (in a share scheme he had signed with Elvis, in a ghetto)
The masterstroke was actually brainwashing hundreds of eyewitnesses whos' video cameras were confiscated and wanted to testify that they had seen shots fired from the infamous cowboy Grassy Noel, thus causing so much confusion, that in the aftermath the American CIA-run govt. immediately went to war in Vietnam (straight after they maxed out their share options in US ordnance and weapons corps) and everybody went away happy. Apart from Marlon Brando, who went mad in Cambodia, so got Charlie Sheens dad to 'do a JFK' on him.
Hope this helps.
*** WARNING *** This reply may contain traces of conspiracy nuts, so tough shit
Dear Dr BoBZ,
I am drunk, and tomorrow I'll be hung-over, do you know any miracle cures?
Yours headachingly,
Steve ‘Acer’ Woodchuck
Quite Inexpensive Steve
There are but 4 guaranteed solutions to your predicament young Liver Lasher
1) Stay Drunk - Forever
2) Get Drunker - Let the hospital detox do its magic
3) Chicken Soup with rusty nails in (digestion of nails optional) followed by Cumberland Sausage in custard
4) Drink Welsh Vagrant Urine direct from source
5) Stick to neat vodka, less additives
6) Never trust a 4 step programme
Dear Guru of all knowing, (and a good general knowledge of plumbing)
Oh great wise and wonderful one, can you please explain to me the rules between watching porn and having sex? For it is my understanding that i may have sexual intercourse with a female from the age of 16 but in order to actually watch myself having sex with this woman or anybody else have sex i must be 18?
Please oh wise one guide me as to the rules of this for I fear the younger generation are having sex with their eyes closed (and that’s not during anal either)
Yours Hamshankingly
Adam ‘Katamari’ Heaton
Dear sweet (containing a source of phenylalanine) Adamski,
Ah, Ah, achoo! young man, fine dilemma, fine dilemma!
It may seem absurd that you can actually get your grubby mitts on a real live fleshy poor girly specimen before a soon-to-be slimy grot magazine or really badly pun-laced jizz flick.(Muff-Diving Miss Daisy? Breakfast At TitFannys?, I Know Who You Did Last Summer?)
The truth is, the government gives people a full 2 years to get it on with a female desperate enough to accept their fetid panting breath within range for more than 5 minutes usually compensated by six cider n blacks or half a bottle of fake Drambuie from Aldi.
Most people who haven’t had their wicks wet with lady love liquid in 2 years are either (a) fundamentalist christians and its probably better if they don’t procreate, or (b) never will, and are destined to a life of bad skin, long dirty rainmacs, and lonely nights with a copy of Razzle and Industrial sized Swarfega jar.
In truth, the two year buffer is in reality a sociological phallacy/phallusy, as anyone who hasn’t dabbled from about 14 is either in a coma or taking their train set far too seriously.
As for the plotlines in such mucky movies, well, regardless of the amount of implants and cocaine a room full of dripping porn gimps possess, photocopiers DO develop faults, plumbers ALWAYS call at inopportune times, and the man who walks in on his wife and 5 builders who can nonchalantly nudge his way into orifice number 3 instead of going to the garage for the chainsaw surely deserves the Cuckold of the Year award!
Yours with Latex Gloves on, BuryBoBZ & the battery powered ‘Queen Bee’
Hello Oh Wise and Unshaven One
Hello wise one (again) - my question today regards my Christmas decorations. I’ve often heard it said that there is a particular number of days before and after the big event as to when to put up and take down but ive never listened......what shall I do oh wise (thrice) and mysterious one....thank you in anticipation
Dave ‘Maclad’ Shearer
Deer Stalker
Well, young stripling, we have a wonderful concept in the western world called "Let the missus do it", your wondrous combo's of black, green, orange and pink may look cool after 12 Stella and some dog worming tablets but believe you me (!) a female will tear this down in justifiable anger, and probably claw you in the face too.
Regarding dates, since Julius Caesar fiddled the calendar 1,000s of years back so he got a long weekend in a bath full of christian tiger shit, it has been a strongly argued/debated and generally ignored point of conflict between men, machines and crooked shopping trolleys. I would use the 12 days of Christmas as a guide, but you could just be another slovenly Brit who leaves his house decorated year round but turns on the lights sometime in mid-September, hope this helps.
Santabobz Claus
Dear Spiritual Stargazer
Nice letters page - how about next weeks winning lotto numbers as a starter?
Yours Pauperishly
Guy ‘Bane’ Lamb-Tikka Hughes
Dear Mr. Multiple-Barrelled name implying wealth ya greedy bastard,
I’ll try again, sorry about that you festering scumbag!
Ah, my dear Bane, every day we are striving for our big break, our chance to escape the very Geordiness, Scouseness and indeed the people from Wolverhampton-ness of our daily drudge. To believe that a sequence of numbers on a girlie pink ticket can be our escape route is naive and quite frankly, wonderful.
People have been requesting these numbers of me since the early 1600s, even Albert Einstein, (or Ally Brainfart as I fondly call him) but even old smart ballhooks himself overlooked the pseudoscientific concept of 'gypping the universe' i.e. the numbers we observe now 7,8,11,30,42,43 will be the winning numbers for the next draw, BUT, the moment we act upon this knowledge (buying a 'winning' ticket) the universe freaks out, and creates an alternate dimension for us with new lottery numbers. Ally B called it the Autobhan Chaoticum Deutsch Thingum, and I think his side project Relativity thing really suffered, and inadvertently because of its incoherency, made it an instant success with big brained boffins worldwide.
Apparently, its machine Murgatroid tonight, and set of balls Fleshpot, so we should be looking at a glut of mid 30s odd numbers.
Yours Ch-Chingingly, El Banco de BBZ
Mahavishnu! Help!
I have been noticing a lot lately that there seems to be mass hysteria from NASA'S scientists about the possibility of there being life on the planet Mars! I know the chances of anything coming from there are a million to one..........but and here is my question ....should I pop down to the local bookies and stick a pound on this happening???
Yours as always in anticipation!!! I love you BBZ!!!
‘Maclad’ Mc ‘Maclad’
Deer Hunter (and other Gladiators)
Thank you for your kind words young Mackem, although heed the words of the great soothsayer Judith Chalmers "Temperatures on Tenerife can dip quite sharply in October, so be sure to pack a suitably gaudy fleece"
Now then, regarding your dilemma, I would speculate a minimum of 10 English pounds, most likely at the establishment called 'BetFred' due to a higher dividend payout. You see, now keep this to yourself, its a guaranteed winner, (as long as you dont mind collecting your winnings in Space Dollars - Ms. Chalmers will get us a good exchange rate)
Since the discovery of water on Mars in the 1990s, it has been speculation central over whether life has existed there. {Whether intelligent life has ever occurred on Earth is a later question to deal with.}
Now, history has proven that wherever water is discovered, a bottling plant soon 'springs' up and another pollution-spewing enterprise is born, and airborne.
Water is the liquid of life, 2nd only to CocaColaZero, which, if you were unfortunate enough to view the board members of their plc you would be further convinced on life from other planets here to screw this one over.
On a semantic point (apart from the fact that our distant ancestors live inside Mars, because its nice and warm and they get great reception on T-Mobile) the moment man sets foot on Mars to investigate life on Mars, well technically, MAN will be the life on Mars, cue a trip to the bookies for a big payday!
On a lighter, fluffier, but not quite a snack you can eat between meals note, there is the dilemma of life in Mars bars. Since the craze for putting glass shards in Mars bars and baby milk of the 90s seems to have died out in favour of pipe bomb and firework attacks, Mars bar tamperology is at an all time low.
But, fear not! If you go to Alizaks bargain bucket, 10 bars for a pound, there’s every chance these chocolate delights have done more air miles than beardophile Branston, and have been through Sars/birdflu/aids/mlaria checkpoints than a Red Cross trainee! Enjoy!
Yours Protectively,
Mask-a-Vishnu BoBZ
Dearest BoBZ, I have a dilemma. I am fed up of the constraints that Windows-based PCs offer me and rather than get the rip off of Mac OSX that is Windows Vista, I thought I might just buy a Mac.
However, there is a man at work who is absolutely loathsome. I can't bring myself to even call him a colleague, so low is my contempt for him. If you imagine the most cretinous, self-indulgent, self-important individual you can, they would not hold a candle to this waste of skin.
The problem is that he, within work, extols the virtues of Macs at every turn. A friend of mine bought a Mac Book Pro last week, and this individual thought that my friend bought it to be more like him. He couldn't have been more wrong: Steve (not Acer, I hasten to add) just wanted something with a nice screen to watch a bit of bukake on.
If I buy a Mac, the last thing I want is for this idiot to think that I am trying to be anything like him. He acts as though he invented Apple and that anyone else in the entire world that dare use an Apple product is trying to be like him. He is like emo 15-year-olds who like My Chemical Romance and are outraged that somebody else might want to listen to one of their songs a year after they first heard of them. He is like Brian Hurst (who saw it first) off of the NME in the 1990s. He is a cunt.
BoBZ, you are the only one who can help with this most serious of queries. To Mac, or not to Mac? That is the question.
Yours Cursingly
Adam ‘Central’ Heaton
Dearer-than-Gas Adam,
Well, first, and most violently, Fuck emo, Fuck M.C.R. & N.M.E., Fuck 15 year olds, (in the cricket bat round the temple sense, not the Jonathan King context) and most of all, how come Mariah Carey & Whitney Houston both went radio gaga together?
Now then, that’s enough fuckery for one guru, so on to your problem work worm. Apart from being a monstrous carbuncle on the inner nostril of society, he feels that by inventing and absorbing his co-workers admiration, he is fulfilling a need in his worthless, small penile-ridden little life. Pity him, then when you've finished laughing into your coffee, apply for a sex-change online on his behalf, care of the office manager as next of kin (they will receive notification of his intentions).
Now, we all know the Mac is 1000x better in every aspect than the Pee.C, but we are all so stupid and scared of a life without Bill Gates domination, we avoid the choice of champions, how can you go wrong with a system named after something that keeps doctors away? So, we have established through scientific research, tarot cards and tea leaves that the Mac is a flasher option (pun intended, but, again, not to 15 years olds)
Now, the very crux of my post was to use the word crux, so, lets go for it! The very crux of your dilemma lies in this bottom feeder not harnessing any glory/credit or kudos from your purchase. The first thing you need is a red-hot demo for the next generation of Mac software that he wont be aware of, so that you can tell him its the very latest model you had shipped from Colorado Unified Nextgen Technologies, (and do say to him, "or C.U.N.T. to you mate") and basically urinates all over his feeble firmware restricted Mac he probably bought off the shelf, as did you but he either doesn’t know whether to believe your/my lies or he still has tears from the acronym abuse.
Alternatively, wait til he goes to the cinema, sneak in behind him, and introduce a superglue-slathered carrier bag to his moronic face.
Hope this helps!
Bury ‘Manhunt Maloney’ BoBz
Was JFK assassinated by the American government or was Lee Harvey Oswald guilty! Although the evidence is almost indisputable I would like to put my mind at rest once for all knowing that you have set my mind on the correct path!
Your devout follower
Dave ‘Bugzy’ Fribbins
Dearest Dave
JFK, the first American president to be named after an airport, was actually the orchestrator of one of the most complex suicides of all time.
By the brilliant ploy of using a boy named Oswald, a name people would come to use as a toilet cleaner, even though some folks still insisted on calling him Patsy, due to his startling rendition of 'Crazy' as Jack Ruby filed him full o' lead, well, Kennedy could (a) Not have to compromise his principles regarding the Vietnam War, (b) Get shut of Jackie 'Onassis' coz she wouldn’t share his surname, because Jackie Kennedy sounds like a £15-a-go brass lamp you might back-scuttle on the Liffey Bridge (c) This enabled him to spend the afterlife sucking on Marilyn 'I was here first Manson' Monroe’s ample charms for all eternity (in a share scheme he had signed with Elvis, in a ghetto)
The masterstroke was actually brainwashing hundreds of eyewitnesses whos' video cameras were confiscated and wanted to testify that they had seen shots fired from the infamous cowboy Grassy Noel, thus causing so much confusion, that in the aftermath the American CIA-run govt. immediately went to war in Vietnam (straight after they maxed out their share options in US ordnance and weapons corps) and everybody went away happy. Apart from Marlon Brando, who went mad in Cambodia, so got Charlie Sheens dad to 'do a JFK' on him.
Hope this helps.
*** WARNING *** This reply may contain traces of conspiracy nuts, so tough shit
Dear Dr BoBZ,
I am drunk, and tomorrow I'll be hung-over, do you know any miracle cures?
Yours headachingly,
Steve ‘Acer’ Woodchuck
Quite Inexpensive Steve
There are but 4 guaranteed solutions to your predicament young Liver Lasher
1) Stay Drunk - Forever
2) Get Drunker - Let the hospital detox do its magic
3) Chicken Soup with rusty nails in (digestion of nails optional) followed by Cumberland Sausage in custard
4) Drink Welsh Vagrant Urine direct from source
5) Stick to neat vodka, less additives
6) Never trust a 4 step programme
Dear Guru of all knowing, (and a good general knowledge of plumbing)
Oh great wise and wonderful one, can you please explain to me the rules between watching porn and having sex? For it is my understanding that i may have sexual intercourse with a female from the age of 16 but in order to actually watch myself having sex with this woman or anybody else have sex i must be 18?
Please oh wise one guide me as to the rules of this for I fear the younger generation are having sex with their eyes closed (and that’s not during anal either)
Yours Hamshankingly
Adam ‘Katamari’ Heaton
Dear sweet (containing a source of phenylalanine) Adamski,
Ah, Ah, achoo! young man, fine dilemma, fine dilemma!
It may seem absurd that you can actually get your grubby mitts on a real live fleshy poor girly specimen before a soon-to-be slimy grot magazine or really badly pun-laced jizz flick.(Muff-Diving Miss Daisy? Breakfast At TitFannys?, I Know Who You Did Last Summer?)
The truth is, the government gives people a full 2 years to get it on with a female desperate enough to accept their fetid panting breath within range for more than 5 minutes usually compensated by six cider n blacks or half a bottle of fake Drambuie from Aldi.
Most people who haven’t had their wicks wet with lady love liquid in 2 years are either (a) fundamentalist christians and its probably better if they don’t procreate, or (b) never will, and are destined to a life of bad skin, long dirty rainmacs, and lonely nights with a copy of Razzle and Industrial sized Swarfega jar.
In truth, the two year buffer is in reality a sociological phallacy/phallusy, as anyone who hasn’t dabbled from about 14 is either in a coma or taking their train set far too seriously.
As for the plotlines in such mucky movies, well, regardless of the amount of implants and cocaine a room full of dripping porn gimps possess, photocopiers DO develop faults, plumbers ALWAYS call at inopportune times, and the man who walks in on his wife and 5 builders who can nonchalantly nudge his way into orifice number 3 instead of going to the garage for the chainsaw surely deserves the Cuckold of the Year award!
Yours with Latex Gloves on, BuryBoBZ & the battery powered ‘Queen Bee’
Hello Oh Wise and Unshaven One
Hello wise one (again) - my question today regards my Christmas decorations. I’ve often heard it said that there is a particular number of days before and after the big event as to when to put up and take down but ive never listened......what shall I do oh wise (thrice) and mysterious one....thank you in anticipation
Dave ‘Maclad’ Shearer
Deer Stalker
Well, young stripling, we have a wonderful concept in the western world called "Let the missus do it", your wondrous combo's of black, green, orange and pink may look cool after 12 Stella and some dog worming tablets but believe you me (!) a female will tear this down in justifiable anger, and probably claw you in the face too.
Regarding dates, since Julius Caesar fiddled the calendar 1,000s of years back so he got a long weekend in a bath full of christian tiger shit, it has been a strongly argued/debated and generally ignored point of conflict between men, machines and crooked shopping trolleys. I would use the 12 days of Christmas as a guide, but you could just be another slovenly Brit who leaves his house decorated year round but turns on the lights sometime in mid-September, hope this helps.
Santabobz Claus
Dear Spiritual Stargazer
Nice letters page - how about next weeks winning lotto numbers as a starter?
Yours Pauperishly
Guy ‘Bane’ Lamb-Tikka Hughes
Dear Mr. Multiple-Barrelled name implying wealth ya greedy bastard,
I’ll try again, sorry about that you festering scumbag!
Ah, my dear Bane, every day we are striving for our big break, our chance to escape the very Geordiness, Scouseness and indeed the people from Wolverhampton-ness of our daily drudge. To believe that a sequence of numbers on a girlie pink ticket can be our escape route is naive and quite frankly, wonderful.
People have been requesting these numbers of me since the early 1600s, even Albert Einstein, (or Ally Brainfart as I fondly call him) but even old smart ballhooks himself overlooked the pseudoscientific concept of 'gypping the universe' i.e. the numbers we observe now 7,8,11,30,42,43 will be the winning numbers for the next draw, BUT, the moment we act upon this knowledge (buying a 'winning' ticket) the universe freaks out, and creates an alternate dimension for us with new lottery numbers. Ally B called it the Autobhan Chaoticum Deutsch Thingum, and I think his side project Relativity thing really suffered, and inadvertently because of its incoherency, made it an instant success with big brained boffins worldwide.
Apparently, its machine Murgatroid tonight, and set of balls Fleshpot, so we should be looking at a glut of mid 30s odd numbers.
Yours Ch-Chingingly, El Banco de BBZ
Mahavishnu! Help!
I have been noticing a lot lately that there seems to be mass hysteria from NASA'S scientists about the possibility of there being life on the planet Mars! I know the chances of anything coming from there are a million to one..........but and here is my question ....should I pop down to the local bookies and stick a pound on this happening???
Yours as always in anticipation!!! I love you BBZ!!!
‘Maclad’ Mc ‘Maclad’
Deer Hunter (and other Gladiators)
Thank you for your kind words young Mackem, although heed the words of the great soothsayer Judith Chalmers "Temperatures on Tenerife can dip quite sharply in October, so be sure to pack a suitably gaudy fleece"
Now then, regarding your dilemma, I would speculate a minimum of 10 English pounds, most likely at the establishment called 'BetFred' due to a higher dividend payout. You see, now keep this to yourself, its a guaranteed winner, (as long as you dont mind collecting your winnings in Space Dollars - Ms. Chalmers will get us a good exchange rate)
Since the discovery of water on Mars in the 1990s, it has been speculation central over whether life has existed there. {Whether intelligent life has ever occurred on Earth is a later question to deal with.}
Now, history has proven that wherever water is discovered, a bottling plant soon 'springs' up and another pollution-spewing enterprise is born, and airborne.
Water is the liquid of life, 2nd only to CocaColaZero, which, if you were unfortunate enough to view the board members of their plc you would be further convinced on life from other planets here to screw this one over.
On a semantic point (apart from the fact that our distant ancestors live inside Mars, because its nice and warm and they get great reception on T-Mobile) the moment man sets foot on Mars to investigate life on Mars, well technically, MAN will be the life on Mars, cue a trip to the bookies for a big payday!
On a lighter, fluffier, but not quite a snack you can eat between meals note, there is the dilemma of life in Mars bars. Since the craze for putting glass shards in Mars bars and baby milk of the 90s seems to have died out in favour of pipe bomb and firework attacks, Mars bar tamperology is at an all time low.
But, fear not! If you go to Alizaks bargain bucket, 10 bars for a pound, there’s every chance these chocolate delights have done more air miles than beardophile Branston, and have been through Sars/birdflu/aids/mlaria checkpoints than a Red Cross trainee! Enjoy!
Yours Protectively,
Mask-a-Vishnu BoBZ
Dearest BoBZ, I have a dilemma. I am fed up of the constraints that Windows-based PCs offer me and rather than get the rip off of Mac OSX that is Windows Vista, I thought I might just buy a Mac.
However, there is a man at work who is absolutely loathsome. I can't bring myself to even call him a colleague, so low is my contempt for him. If you imagine the most cretinous, self-indulgent, self-important individual you can, they would not hold a candle to this waste of skin.
The problem is that he, within work, extols the virtues of Macs at every turn. A friend of mine bought a Mac Book Pro last week, and this individual thought that my friend bought it to be more like him. He couldn't have been more wrong: Steve (not Acer, I hasten to add) just wanted something with a nice screen to watch a bit of bukake on.
If I buy a Mac, the last thing I want is for this idiot to think that I am trying to be anything like him. He acts as though he invented Apple and that anyone else in the entire world that dare use an Apple product is trying to be like him. He is like emo 15-year-olds who like My Chemical Romance and are outraged that somebody else might want to listen to one of their songs a year after they first heard of them. He is like Brian Hurst (who saw it first) off of the NME in the 1990s. He is a cunt.
BoBZ, you are the only one who can help with this most serious of queries. To Mac, or not to Mac? That is the question.
Yours Cursingly
Adam ‘Central’ Heaton
Dearer-than-Gas Adam,
Well, first, and most violently, Fuck emo, Fuck M.C.R. & N.M.E., Fuck 15 year olds, (in the cricket bat round the temple sense, not the Jonathan King context) and most of all, how come Mariah Carey & Whitney Houston both went radio gaga together?
Now then, that’s enough fuckery for one guru, so on to your problem work worm. Apart from being a monstrous carbuncle on the inner nostril of society, he feels that by inventing and absorbing his co-workers admiration, he is fulfilling a need in his worthless, small penile-ridden little life. Pity him, then when you've finished laughing into your coffee, apply for a sex-change online on his behalf, care of the office manager as next of kin (they will receive notification of his intentions).
Now, we all know the Mac is 1000x better in every aspect than the Pee.C, but we are all so stupid and scared of a life without Bill Gates domination, we avoid the choice of champions, how can you go wrong with a system named after something that keeps doctors away? So, we have established through scientific research, tarot cards and tea leaves that the Mac is a flasher option (pun intended, but, again, not to 15 years olds)
Now, the very crux of my post was to use the word crux, so, lets go for it! The very crux of your dilemma lies in this bottom feeder not harnessing any glory/credit or kudos from your purchase. The first thing you need is a red-hot demo for the next generation of Mac software that he wont be aware of, so that you can tell him its the very latest model you had shipped from Colorado Unified Nextgen Technologies, (and do say to him, "or C.U.N.T. to you mate") and basically urinates all over his feeble firmware restricted Mac he probably bought off the shelf, as did you but he either doesn’t know whether to believe your/my lies or he still has tears from the acronym abuse.
Alternatively, wait til he goes to the cinema, sneak in behind him, and introduce a superglue-slathered carrier bag to his moronic face.
Hope this helps!
Bury ‘Manhunt Maloney’ BoBz
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
3 a.m. Cookery Club
The 3 a.m. Cookery Club
OK, youve been ejected from the nightclub, been kicked out of the kebab shop for trying to pick a fight with an antique space invaders machine, the police have kerb-crawled you all the way home to keep you out of further trouble (didnt offer you a lift though, did they? the bastards!). After the 23rd attempt, you finally succeeded in getting your key into the lock, leaving numerous ugly failed attempt scars across your front door. (tomorrow you’ll notice them and be convinced someones tried to break in). Now you are inside, warm, swaying, and hungry! You usher your mate/bird into the lounge, urging them not to make too much noise so they don’t wake up your folks. Suddenly, as you enter the kitchen, an amazing transformation takes place! One minute, you are a drunk, blur-visioned, beer smelling, rubber-legged fool, then you open the fridge, spot the plethora of ingredients and Hey Bisto! you become Gordon Fuckin Ramsay! “Hey, how do you fancy a fuckin top fry up?” you whisper (albeit a 120 decibel whisper) through to your companion, which is met with a response which sounds not too unlike an ashtray being overturned, followed by an accompanying “Aww shit! Err, yeah, sounds great!”
All four oven rings are turned on to full, while you search for the biggest available receptacle, eventually plumping for a low-lipped oven tray which overlaps 2 rings at least. Next, in goes about ¾ of a pint of mums best vegetable oil, you pour a little touch of dads best barbeque fuel in as well, just to make sure it gets good and hot. Now, every ingredient within a radius of 15 feet, including but not exclusive to, sausages, egg, cat crunchies, pepper, stale biscuits, cheese (and some reluctant plastic wrapping), plus other quite unidentifiable substances left in various cups and dishes in the fridge and freezer all meet up in the pan for a tastebud destroying extravaganza. Now all you need is a liquid appetizer, in the shape of mum n dads wedding anniversary champagne, hiding behind the curtain, behind the cat, which shakes its head at you and mews it obvious disapproval. “Ah shut it ye stupid moggy. I’ll buy another bottle tomorrow, no-one’ll know” you proffer, unaware that the cats concern is actually her stolen crunchies in your concoction.
“Here, get hold of these glasses while I open this wine”, you pass the pint mug and the glass vase to your guest, and proceed to propel the pressurized cork through the window-front of your parents wooden display cabinet, with the additional bonus of chipping the nose off your mums favourite ornament, a family heirloom that’s been in the family for generations, in your dazed state, you are pretty sure that, although upset, your forgiving folks will appreciate what a good shot it was. The wine is poured, and drank, and before you can even say “Where’s the remote?” a snoring sound rises from the other chair. But you won’t sleep! No! You have important cooking to do, they look so relaxed with their eyes shut though, must go and check on the food, hang on, did they finish their drink? No! Bonus! More for you. Now, all you need is a ciggie. Hmm, where did you leave them? Really need a smoke.. You can almost taste the smoke, drifting, drifting away….. Smoke SMOKE! And a high pitched annoying siren, then the front door, being kicked open, by a guy who looks like he does a lot of posing with his hose, for the calendar of course. And the smell! If you’re not mistaken, that’s the aroma of melted kitchen! Kitchen Nightmares? too fucking right Mr. Ramsay!
OK, youve been ejected from the nightclub, been kicked out of the kebab shop for trying to pick a fight with an antique space invaders machine, the police have kerb-crawled you all the way home to keep you out of further trouble (didnt offer you a lift though, did they? the bastards!). After the 23rd attempt, you finally succeeded in getting your key into the lock, leaving numerous ugly failed attempt scars across your front door. (tomorrow you’ll notice them and be convinced someones tried to break in). Now you are inside, warm, swaying, and hungry! You usher your mate/bird into the lounge, urging them not to make too much noise so they don’t wake up your folks. Suddenly, as you enter the kitchen, an amazing transformation takes place! One minute, you are a drunk, blur-visioned, beer smelling, rubber-legged fool, then you open the fridge, spot the plethora of ingredients and Hey Bisto! you become Gordon Fuckin Ramsay! “Hey, how do you fancy a fuckin top fry up?” you whisper (albeit a 120 decibel whisper) through to your companion, which is met with a response which sounds not too unlike an ashtray being overturned, followed by an accompanying “Aww shit! Err, yeah, sounds great!”
All four oven rings are turned on to full, while you search for the biggest available receptacle, eventually plumping for a low-lipped oven tray which overlaps 2 rings at least. Next, in goes about ¾ of a pint of mums best vegetable oil, you pour a little touch of dads best barbeque fuel in as well, just to make sure it gets good and hot. Now, every ingredient within a radius of 15 feet, including but not exclusive to, sausages, egg, cat crunchies, pepper, stale biscuits, cheese (and some reluctant plastic wrapping), plus other quite unidentifiable substances left in various cups and dishes in the fridge and freezer all meet up in the pan for a tastebud destroying extravaganza. Now all you need is a liquid appetizer, in the shape of mum n dads wedding anniversary champagne, hiding behind the curtain, behind the cat, which shakes its head at you and mews it obvious disapproval. “Ah shut it ye stupid moggy. I’ll buy another bottle tomorrow, no-one’ll know” you proffer, unaware that the cats concern is actually her stolen crunchies in your concoction.
“Here, get hold of these glasses while I open this wine”, you pass the pint mug and the glass vase to your guest, and proceed to propel the pressurized cork through the window-front of your parents wooden display cabinet, with the additional bonus of chipping the nose off your mums favourite ornament, a family heirloom that’s been in the family for generations, in your dazed state, you are pretty sure that, although upset, your forgiving folks will appreciate what a good shot it was. The wine is poured, and drank, and before you can even say “Where’s the remote?” a snoring sound rises from the other chair. But you won’t sleep! No! You have important cooking to do, they look so relaxed with their eyes shut though, must go and check on the food, hang on, did they finish their drink? No! Bonus! More for you. Now, all you need is a ciggie. Hmm, where did you leave them? Really need a smoke.. You can almost taste the smoke, drifting, drifting away….. Smoke SMOKE! And a high pitched annoying siren, then the front door, being kicked open, by a guy who looks like he does a lot of posing with his hose, for the calendar of course. And the smell! If you’re not mistaken, that’s the aroma of melted kitchen! Kitchen Nightmares? too fucking right Mr. Ramsay!
Greatest games never made
The Greatest Games Never Made
METAL GEAR FLACCID (VIAGRACOM SOFTWARE)
Genre : Alcoholic Role-playing Adventure
No. of Players : 1 sad loner
Difficulty Level : Frustratingly Humiliating - hope the TVs insured
In this latest instalment of Viagracoms ever popular series, you play the role of urban warrior and perpetual bed-wetter Flaccid Snake. Armed with the usual array of weapons and power-ups, ranging from pocketfuls of loose change for close quarters kebab shop encounters, up to the devastating Wildly Swung Traffic Cone (with new improved “I’ll kill the fuckin lotta ye!” vocal boost), not forgetting the wonderful Carry-Out power-ups you encounter along the way, before 10pm. Also the new improved ‘Resisting Arrest’ move certainly gave our office team something to wrestle with over their gin & bacon bagels. The ‘Metal Gear’ (or steel plate in the skull) has been further enhanced so that Snake now believes that by lighting a fag, whistling nonchalantly and browsing a closed shops steel shuttering, he becomes invisible to the local constabulary.
In this outing, we find Snake on the hunt for a lass to help him empty his bulging ball sack, but as usual, even though he drops his standards lower than a thalidomide’s arse, he is scuppered by his over-imbibing causing little Percy Pecker to flop about like a pink slug who’s backbones on permanent vacation. Ultimately, he becomes embroiled in the devious plans of an evil mastermind and probably a secret cat-stroker on the quiet, Judge Judy Testosterone. This battle of wills and unpaid fines for public order offences is the most engrossing story yet in the series, and accompanied by your ever faithful imaginary sidekick Lambrini, the dialogue is the standard we’ve come to expect of this title, i.e. babbling crap. So once again, its hats off to those crazy Japanese and their incomprehensible storylines!
GLAND THEFT AUTOPSY (HIPPOCRATIC HYPOCRITES INC)
Genre : First-person Looter (of mortuaries)
No. of Players : Multiplayer collusion
Difficulty Level : Easy, as long as you don’t get discovered
This sure-fire blockbuster is another venture into a 3D open-world playing arena, with an NHS children’s hospital as the base for your shady shenanigans. Incorporating business management themes and also plenty of cover-ups, espionage and mysterious men with suitcases full of used notes. The game begins with you as a young ‘level 1’ medical intern, who has to rise to the ranks of chief medical officer, by any means possible. Initially you will go through the motions of surgery, childcare, pretending to be sympathetic to parents of dying kids, but very soon you realise that your income can be boosted to astronomical levels by ‘redistribution’ of dead childrens organs and body parts.
This is where the business management engine comes into its own, marvel at the realistic way your prior knowledge of medical research businesses and corporate ventures can give you the leading edge and head start in share dealing, guaranteeing you excessive wealth that only the truly greedy & unethical understand. Will you sell the organs to the highest bidders, from private clinics in the USA or Far East, or do you opt to open your own research facility and rake the money in under the guise of government funding? The development team at HH inc have come up with yet another unforgettable game, albeit in questionable taste, but when that is paired with great gameplay, tense action, and high-powered business lunches with profit obsessed vultures, its gaming heaven!
WOMB RAIDER VI - The Damp Patch Diaries (I.L.P. Studios)
Genre : Clam-Conquering Platformer
No. of Players : You are THE player
Difficulty Level : Interesting learning curve, from playground to playboy in 25 short years
Those darlings at I.L.P. Studios (Ivana Lara Pussy) have hit financial gold with its seemingly never-ending Womb Raider series. Again you are thrust into the role of Larry Croft, notorious lover, lothario, labia-licker and lisping lunatic whose sole purpose in life is to keep his manhood lubricated in the most natural - and best! - way available, by constantly marinating it in woman juice! Our protagonist from Metal Gear Flaccid could take a leaf out of Larrys book, the non-drinking, non-smoking, all smarmy, always poking anti-hero never fails to perform (except during level 3, where the Viagra is replaced by Lesley Thomas tablets, leaving our Larry with only a stiff upper-lip for once!) This game is played mostly in flashback, charting the relative rise to success as our character picks up cheesy chatup lines, cheques and tips, chubby chicks, chlamydia and a chaffed Charlie on the way to stained satin sheet stardom!
To be honest, this series had become a little tired of late, a bit like some of Larrys conquests, but apart from early teething problems, the cocksure character is definitely back on track. You spend too much time early in the game alternating between thrusting for glory then having your rhythm broken by squeals of ‘I’m too dry!’ by the underage pick-ups, meaning you have to keep leaving the house and going to the all-night garage for lube, amusing at first, but it can become repetitive. This game comes (literally) into its own in later levels though, when the enlightened Larry dons his Leisure Suit, and heads for the glorious bright lights, threesomes, foursomes and orgies of the Vegas runaways porno scene, ending in a monumental and memorable climax!
SUPER MARIO LANZA (Ann Offayacanna Refuse Entertainment )
Genre : Italian Croonathon
No. of Players : 3 plus a rhythm section
Difficulty Level : Medium, but don’t get capsized over by the High Cs!
Once in a while, a game comes along that knocks our socks off. And after 10 minutes in the delightful company of Super Mario Lanza, I looked under the table to observe that not only were my socks gone, but there was also a big burn mark where my doc martins and feet used to be. After leaving casualty, I stumped it as fast as I could back to our office to finish what this Italian Rapscallion had started! On the back of games like Guitar Heroin Addict, Stars in Their Deludeyes, All New Karaoke Screamalong-a-Piss-up, I had my doubts, but this is a game within a game within a game, all within a box made of that lovely velvet nightclub jacket material, its too perfect! Not only do you get to warble along with the hero of this title, but at suitable junctures, when you think the synch-a-song may get jaded, it switches into wonderful platform game mode! Genius!
So, you’ve belted out Arrivederci Roma, Funiculi Funicula, Danny Boy, and many more, but what’s this? You weren’t lubricating properly, and your rehearsal to play ‘The Great Caruso’ is but a day away! Never fear, your platform buddy Luigi is here! Luigi, an Italian plumber is an expert at getting dry pipes lubricated, but sometimes the dastardly doings of his nemesis Evil King Whoopacough, who has stolen all the Lockets (and Blackcurrant Soothers), make this more difficult for Luigi and Mario. Don’t worry, he may have a dry throat, but Mario has more than a few tricks and special moves up his sleeve. Blow away those crazy devious mushrooms and predictable left-right-left-right shell things by unleashing the Lanza Stanza! A vocal roar that makes King Kong’s primal scream look and sound like a mouse clearing its throat. I’ll say one more thing, Ave Mario!
METAL GEAR FLACCID (VIAGRACOM SOFTWARE)
Genre : Alcoholic Role-playing Adventure
No. of Players : 1 sad loner
Difficulty Level : Frustratingly Humiliating - hope the TVs insured
In this latest instalment of Viagracoms ever popular series, you play the role of urban warrior and perpetual bed-wetter Flaccid Snake. Armed with the usual array of weapons and power-ups, ranging from pocketfuls of loose change for close quarters kebab shop encounters, up to the devastating Wildly Swung Traffic Cone (with new improved “I’ll kill the fuckin lotta ye!” vocal boost), not forgetting the wonderful Carry-Out power-ups you encounter along the way, before 10pm. Also the new improved ‘Resisting Arrest’ move certainly gave our office team something to wrestle with over their gin & bacon bagels. The ‘Metal Gear’ (or steel plate in the skull) has been further enhanced so that Snake now believes that by lighting a fag, whistling nonchalantly and browsing a closed shops steel shuttering, he becomes invisible to the local constabulary.
In this outing, we find Snake on the hunt for a lass to help him empty his bulging ball sack, but as usual, even though he drops his standards lower than a thalidomide’s arse, he is scuppered by his over-imbibing causing little Percy Pecker to flop about like a pink slug who’s backbones on permanent vacation. Ultimately, he becomes embroiled in the devious plans of an evil mastermind and probably a secret cat-stroker on the quiet, Judge Judy Testosterone. This battle of wills and unpaid fines for public order offences is the most engrossing story yet in the series, and accompanied by your ever faithful imaginary sidekick Lambrini, the dialogue is the standard we’ve come to expect of this title, i.e. babbling crap. So once again, its hats off to those crazy Japanese and their incomprehensible storylines!
GLAND THEFT AUTOPSY (HIPPOCRATIC HYPOCRITES INC)
Genre : First-person Looter (of mortuaries)
No. of Players : Multiplayer collusion
Difficulty Level : Easy, as long as you don’t get discovered
This sure-fire blockbuster is another venture into a 3D open-world playing arena, with an NHS children’s hospital as the base for your shady shenanigans. Incorporating business management themes and also plenty of cover-ups, espionage and mysterious men with suitcases full of used notes. The game begins with you as a young ‘level 1’ medical intern, who has to rise to the ranks of chief medical officer, by any means possible. Initially you will go through the motions of surgery, childcare, pretending to be sympathetic to parents of dying kids, but very soon you realise that your income can be boosted to astronomical levels by ‘redistribution’ of dead childrens organs and body parts.
This is where the business management engine comes into its own, marvel at the realistic way your prior knowledge of medical research businesses and corporate ventures can give you the leading edge and head start in share dealing, guaranteeing you excessive wealth that only the truly greedy & unethical understand. Will you sell the organs to the highest bidders, from private clinics in the USA or Far East, or do you opt to open your own research facility and rake the money in under the guise of government funding? The development team at HH inc have come up with yet another unforgettable game, albeit in questionable taste, but when that is paired with great gameplay, tense action, and high-powered business lunches with profit obsessed vultures, its gaming heaven!
WOMB RAIDER VI - The Damp Patch Diaries (I.L.P. Studios)
Genre : Clam-Conquering Platformer
No. of Players : You are THE player
Difficulty Level : Interesting learning curve, from playground to playboy in 25 short years
Those darlings at I.L.P. Studios (Ivana Lara Pussy) have hit financial gold with its seemingly never-ending Womb Raider series. Again you are thrust into the role of Larry Croft, notorious lover, lothario, labia-licker and lisping lunatic whose sole purpose in life is to keep his manhood lubricated in the most natural - and best! - way available, by constantly marinating it in woman juice! Our protagonist from Metal Gear Flaccid could take a leaf out of Larrys book, the non-drinking, non-smoking, all smarmy, always poking anti-hero never fails to perform (except during level 3, where the Viagra is replaced by Lesley Thomas tablets, leaving our Larry with only a stiff upper-lip for once!) This game is played mostly in flashback, charting the relative rise to success as our character picks up cheesy chatup lines, cheques and tips, chubby chicks, chlamydia and a chaffed Charlie on the way to stained satin sheet stardom!
To be honest, this series had become a little tired of late, a bit like some of Larrys conquests, but apart from early teething problems, the cocksure character is definitely back on track. You spend too much time early in the game alternating between thrusting for glory then having your rhythm broken by squeals of ‘I’m too dry!’ by the underage pick-ups, meaning you have to keep leaving the house and going to the all-night garage for lube, amusing at first, but it can become repetitive. This game comes (literally) into its own in later levels though, when the enlightened Larry dons his Leisure Suit, and heads for the glorious bright lights, threesomes, foursomes and orgies of the Vegas runaways porno scene, ending in a monumental and memorable climax!
SUPER MARIO LANZA (Ann Offayacanna Refuse Entertainment )
Genre : Italian Croonathon
No. of Players : 3 plus a rhythm section
Difficulty Level : Medium, but don’t get capsized over by the High Cs!
Once in a while, a game comes along that knocks our socks off. And after 10 minutes in the delightful company of Super Mario Lanza, I looked under the table to observe that not only were my socks gone, but there was also a big burn mark where my doc martins and feet used to be. After leaving casualty, I stumped it as fast as I could back to our office to finish what this Italian Rapscallion had started! On the back of games like Guitar Heroin Addict, Stars in Their Deludeyes, All New Karaoke Screamalong-a-Piss-up, I had my doubts, but this is a game within a game within a game, all within a box made of that lovely velvet nightclub jacket material, its too perfect! Not only do you get to warble along with the hero of this title, but at suitable junctures, when you think the synch-a-song may get jaded, it switches into wonderful platform game mode! Genius!
So, you’ve belted out Arrivederci Roma, Funiculi Funicula, Danny Boy, and many more, but what’s this? You weren’t lubricating properly, and your rehearsal to play ‘The Great Caruso’ is but a day away! Never fear, your platform buddy Luigi is here! Luigi, an Italian plumber is an expert at getting dry pipes lubricated, but sometimes the dastardly doings of his nemesis Evil King Whoopacough, who has stolen all the Lockets (and Blackcurrant Soothers), make this more difficult for Luigi and Mario. Don’t worry, he may have a dry throat, but Mario has more than a few tricks and special moves up his sleeve. Blow away those crazy devious mushrooms and predictable left-right-left-right shell things by unleashing the Lanza Stanza! A vocal roar that makes King Kong’s primal scream look and sound like a mouse clearing its throat. I’ll say one more thing, Ave Mario!
snippets - mag issue 2 notes
Stories, Articles, Snippets etc
Sexy Shorts
Hear about the whore who had an appendectomy, but the surgeon sewed up the wrong hole. Now she makes money on the side...
...thats the problem with eating out a chinese girl, half an hour later you're hungry again...
...and the queer who bought salami, when the butcher asked if he wanted it sliced, he replied "What do you think my arsé is a money box?"...
...and the guy who cried when hearing you could get paid for sperm donations, because over his lifetime he'd let a fortune slip through his fingers...
New show on Bravo
The Hoover Whisperer – Shiny South American Vacuum Cleaner expert Claudius Sicily visits hapless American morons who are having problems with their electronic sucking machines, including the all too common attacks on small dogs, sneakily tripping family members up with tangly wires, devouring valuable rings and other jewellery, and the dreaded exploding dustbag of doom. Our goatee’d ninja of the carpet cleaner Claudius teaches the braindead scrotes the tricks and tips of turning your errant behemoth into a meek, manual Bissell, but usually just advises to take the fuckin thing down to the tip and get a Dyson, you tight bástards.
What’s going on?
When you’re young, you look in the cupboards at all the ‘sensible’ foods your parents buy and think, “when im growed up and live on my own, im just gonna buy Peanut Butter, Jam, Nutella, chocolate cake and pop” But before you know it, you’re there, 15 years later, in the supermarket, humming and hawing over broccoli, sprouts and cabbage. Whos really in control here?
Living with women – Life Tips #43
Always turn your mattresses in Spring. I don’t exactly know why, but I once saw someone do it in an episode of Bergerac. It was quite ironic viewing actually, as Bergerac was a detective, played by John Nettles, who was investigating a financial ‘sting’ operation
Living with women – Life Tips #76
Make it a priority that you do your homework very early in the relationship if you want to survive, by learning the correct location for EVERY SINGLE ITEM in your home, then draw yourself maps, diagrams, charts and coded messages only you understand. Believe me, the aftermath of misplacing a towel, plate or bathroom hygiene item is a terrifying prospect, and one I would advise that you learn quickly to avoid the wrath of the she-devil you share house with.
Abu al-Sabu Ding Dang Du was reported dead in Kabul tonight. One of the highest ranking operatives of Al-Qaeda was said to have ‘died as a martyr’. It later turned out we had been given misinformation, and in fact he ‘choked on a tomato’
A guide to unnerving people, mostly for fun, partly in the name of mental illness.
SO, you sidle over to the sexy, unattainable blonde perched at the bar, introduce yourself, make small-talk, then ask nonchalantly, “ But enough about me, I don’t even know your name” to which, if psychologically conditioned she will proffer her name. e.g. Christine, to which you reply “Ah, Christine… I had a blow-up doll called Christine, in fact I named her after my sister” sit back and watch her face drop off her head.
Where do wankers holiday in Florida?
Sweaty Palm Springs
Buy celebrity arse juice now! E-bay-enemas.com
Bad Luck Chuck
Im so unfortunate, a primary school child did me a crayon drawing, the VERY SAME DAY that my fridge door was stolen
The day I FINALLY gave in to my inner conflicts and allowed God into my life, the Catholic church came clean and confessed it was all a money and power racket
I became a vegetarian the day that they declared that chocolate was acceptable only as part of a carnivorous diet
I was the 10millionth person ever to take a monastic vow of silence, and was asked to give a speech about my decision on National Radio for a big fat fee
The day after I took my second vow of silence, I received a free front row season ticket to Manchester Uniteds newly opened compulsory loud swearing section
Apparently, terrorists drink so much Irish Stout that the Taliban are changing the countries name to AfGuinnesstan
Luke, I am your father.
I changed my name from Annakin to Darth, by deed poll.
And look at all the trouble it caused.
Got a free black cloak though.
It says "Property of Dr. Acula" on the label.
Goodnight.
When I steal a newborn from outside Sainsburys, I usually give her/him a temporary name associated with the pram she came free with (and other bonus goodies found in the various trays and pouches)
At present, I have;
Maxi and Cosi Beebz - my first raid, and twins! what a score!
Silver Crossienta Mahavishna - the sparkling one
Bebe BB Zee - aptly named, she hums and sleeps
Quinny - tall, irish and depressed but very generous
McClaren - smiles a lot, but full of shít
EmmalJunga KBGB - much too clever for old Fagan 'ere!
All sprats are available via eBay, (paypal only) and come with free nappies, milk (powdered marvel may be used if supplies run out), goose fat for rubbing on chubby legs, collar, harness and chokers.
All inquiries welcome, photos available once you can prove you're not on a sex offenders list.
LEGAL NOTE: Any chav believing that their child may be amongst these items, well, tough, you shouldnt be stoned scumbags bringing up little miracles should you!
Im a prop forward trapped in a supermodels body, and I cant breathe properly…
Asian snooker star Marco Fu caused inadvertent upset en route to the recent Masters Tournament. His weak grasp of English was to blame when it was discovered that on his cue case he had written, for the benefit of customs officials “For Cue”, causing much embarrassment and mirth at the check-in desk
"Where The Streets Have No Name" by U2 is based on a real housing estate in Dunmailin, Co. Wicklow. The housing estate was designed in such a manner to test the responses of postmen and see how they would react. The startling results were so scary they were hidden under a big stone for a long time. But now revealed, they state, QUOTE predictably, there were sporadic cases of postmen stealing the mail, and trying to cash giros, pocketing birthday card money meant for little Paddy etc, but 68% of our test subjects actually went insane, ending up in highpowered goverment positions, 4 postmen are still lost, believed to still trying to complete their assigned tasks.
This just proves the resilience, resourcefulness, red-facedness and roguishness of our friends across the water, but does not detract from the fact that Bono is still a Class 1 self-abuser. (real name - Wayne Kerr)
Cabbie Chat
“You’ll never guess who was in the back of my cab a few years back!, that Osama Bin Laden fella!”
“No way! Was he a good tipper?”
“He gave me a great tip. Told me to steer the fuck clear of Kings Cross Station on the 7th July” (think your edit works better mate!)
We fear change. Thats why we tell barstaff to keep it.
News: Jeremy Kyle is to stand in the next election and compete for the role as next Prime Minister. His party, the Chav United Nationalist Tramps – (or CUNT) will be campaigning for more Burberry, more XR2s and more high-school pregnancies. “With the vote of the young, disenchanted, stoned and useless behind me, I am sure I can bring this country back to where it belongs, on its arse” he shouted, condescendingly to a 19 year old scumbag.
To make tiny Tears , you need to chop really small onions
Rock Star Pads – this month ??? (plus picture of used tampon as per FdM)
Hollywoods latest fame maim game
BJBE or ‘Black Jack Blacks Eyes’ is becoming the hot game this year, due to the amount of optical damage caused by his shite movies. Stars and public alike have voiced their support for the new craze – “I cant wait to pop the little shit one on the hooter” said famous psychopath Dennis Hopper.
World Leaders Games & Pastimes
Adolf Hitler absolutely adored board games. He was an adept scrabble player, though many thought his personal favourites would have been RISK or Monopoly, or even the long-delayed board version of Genocidal Ethnic Cleansing (for advanced players). It turned out that behind Adolfs seemingly innocent love of Scrabble, there was a darker aspect to his enthusiasm, apparently he was hoping to create a game that consisted only of a cloned set of all blank super-tiles, making the game into something very messy indeed. A little known fact as footnote is that his secret favourite was the dice game Yahtzee, and in 1938 he temporarily changed the name of his political group from the Nazi Party to the Yahtzee Party, memorabilia of fluffy dice with swastika emblems are now the most highly sought after war antiques at Sothebys.
Nostrildamage – 15th century coke-addicted Prophet
When someone is into difficulties in water, its usually preferable than being the poor bugger who jumps in to save them but usually dies while the originl victim is invariably rescued.
Date rape is really great fun, but I find that the fresh produce aisle at Asda is usually too busy to get it on with exotic fruit for any length of time.
Sexy Shorts
Hear about the whore who had an appendectomy, but the surgeon sewed up the wrong hole. Now she makes money on the side...
...thats the problem with eating out a chinese girl, half an hour later you're hungry again...
...and the queer who bought salami, when the butcher asked if he wanted it sliced, he replied "What do you think my arsé is a money box?"...
...and the guy who cried when hearing you could get paid for sperm donations, because over his lifetime he'd let a fortune slip through his fingers...
New show on Bravo
The Hoover Whisperer – Shiny South American Vacuum Cleaner expert Claudius Sicily visits hapless American morons who are having problems with their electronic sucking machines, including the all too common attacks on small dogs, sneakily tripping family members up with tangly wires, devouring valuable rings and other jewellery, and the dreaded exploding dustbag of doom. Our goatee’d ninja of the carpet cleaner Claudius teaches the braindead scrotes the tricks and tips of turning your errant behemoth into a meek, manual Bissell, but usually just advises to take the fuckin thing down to the tip and get a Dyson, you tight bástards.
What’s going on?
When you’re young, you look in the cupboards at all the ‘sensible’ foods your parents buy and think, “when im growed up and live on my own, im just gonna buy Peanut Butter, Jam, Nutella, chocolate cake and pop” But before you know it, you’re there, 15 years later, in the supermarket, humming and hawing over broccoli, sprouts and cabbage. Whos really in control here?
Living with women – Life Tips #43
Always turn your mattresses in Spring. I don’t exactly know why, but I once saw someone do it in an episode of Bergerac. It was quite ironic viewing actually, as Bergerac was a detective, played by John Nettles, who was investigating a financial ‘sting’ operation
Living with women – Life Tips #76
Make it a priority that you do your homework very early in the relationship if you want to survive, by learning the correct location for EVERY SINGLE ITEM in your home, then draw yourself maps, diagrams, charts and coded messages only you understand. Believe me, the aftermath of misplacing a towel, plate or bathroom hygiene item is a terrifying prospect, and one I would advise that you learn quickly to avoid the wrath of the she-devil you share house with.
Abu al-Sabu Ding Dang Du was reported dead in Kabul tonight. One of the highest ranking operatives of Al-Qaeda was said to have ‘died as a martyr’. It later turned out we had been given misinformation, and in fact he ‘choked on a tomato’
A guide to unnerving people, mostly for fun, partly in the name of mental illness.
SO, you sidle over to the sexy, unattainable blonde perched at the bar, introduce yourself, make small-talk, then ask nonchalantly, “ But enough about me, I don’t even know your name” to which, if psychologically conditioned she will proffer her name. e.g. Christine, to which you reply “Ah, Christine… I had a blow-up doll called Christine, in fact I named her after my sister” sit back and watch her face drop off her head.
Where do wankers holiday in Florida?
Sweaty Palm Springs
Buy celebrity arse juice now! E-bay-enemas.com
Bad Luck Chuck
Im so unfortunate, a primary school child did me a crayon drawing, the VERY SAME DAY that my fridge door was stolen
The day I FINALLY gave in to my inner conflicts and allowed God into my life, the Catholic church came clean and confessed it was all a money and power racket
I became a vegetarian the day that they declared that chocolate was acceptable only as part of a carnivorous diet
I was the 10millionth person ever to take a monastic vow of silence, and was asked to give a speech about my decision on National Radio for a big fat fee
The day after I took my second vow of silence, I received a free front row season ticket to Manchester Uniteds newly opened compulsory loud swearing section
Apparently, terrorists drink so much Irish Stout that the Taliban are changing the countries name to AfGuinnesstan
Luke, I am your father.
I changed my name from Annakin to Darth, by deed poll.
And look at all the trouble it caused.
Got a free black cloak though.
It says "Property of Dr. Acula" on the label.
Goodnight.
When I steal a newborn from outside Sainsburys, I usually give her/him a temporary name associated with the pram she came free with (and other bonus goodies found in the various trays and pouches)
At present, I have;
Maxi and Cosi Beebz - my first raid, and twins! what a score!
Silver Crossienta Mahavishna - the sparkling one
Bebe BB Zee - aptly named, she hums and sleeps
Quinny - tall, irish and depressed but very generous
McClaren - smiles a lot, but full of shít
EmmalJunga KBGB - much too clever for old Fagan 'ere!
All sprats are available via eBay, (paypal only) and come with free nappies, milk (powdered marvel may be used if supplies run out), goose fat for rubbing on chubby legs, collar, harness and chokers.
All inquiries welcome, photos available once you can prove you're not on a sex offenders list.
LEGAL NOTE: Any chav believing that their child may be amongst these items, well, tough, you shouldnt be stoned scumbags bringing up little miracles should you!
Im a prop forward trapped in a supermodels body, and I cant breathe properly…
Asian snooker star Marco Fu caused inadvertent upset en route to the recent Masters Tournament. His weak grasp of English was to blame when it was discovered that on his cue case he had written, for the benefit of customs officials “For Cue”, causing much embarrassment and mirth at the check-in desk
"Where The Streets Have No Name" by U2 is based on a real housing estate in Dunmailin, Co. Wicklow. The housing estate was designed in such a manner to test the responses of postmen and see how they would react. The startling results were so scary they were hidden under a big stone for a long time. But now revealed, they state, QUOTE predictably, there were sporadic cases of postmen stealing the mail, and trying to cash giros, pocketing birthday card money meant for little Paddy etc, but 68% of our test subjects actually went insane, ending up in highpowered goverment positions, 4 postmen are still lost, believed to still trying to complete their assigned tasks.
This just proves the resilience, resourcefulness, red-facedness and roguishness of our friends across the water, but does not detract from the fact that Bono is still a Class 1 self-abuser. (real name - Wayne Kerr)
Cabbie Chat
“You’ll never guess who was in the back of my cab a few years back!, that Osama Bin Laden fella!”
“No way! Was he a good tipper?”
“He gave me a great tip. Told me to steer the fuck clear of Kings Cross Station on the 7th July” (think your edit works better mate!)
We fear change. Thats why we tell barstaff to keep it.
News: Jeremy Kyle is to stand in the next election and compete for the role as next Prime Minister. His party, the Chav United Nationalist Tramps – (or CUNT) will be campaigning for more Burberry, more XR2s and more high-school pregnancies. “With the vote of the young, disenchanted, stoned and useless behind me, I am sure I can bring this country back to where it belongs, on its arse” he shouted, condescendingly to a 19 year old scumbag.
To make tiny Tears , you need to chop really small onions
Rock Star Pads – this month ??? (plus picture of used tampon as per FdM)
Hollywoods latest fame maim game
BJBE or ‘Black Jack Blacks Eyes’ is becoming the hot game this year, due to the amount of optical damage caused by his shite movies. Stars and public alike have voiced their support for the new craze – “I cant wait to pop the little shit one on the hooter” said famous psychopath Dennis Hopper.
World Leaders Games & Pastimes
Adolf Hitler absolutely adored board games. He was an adept scrabble player, though many thought his personal favourites would have been RISK or Monopoly, or even the long-delayed board version of Genocidal Ethnic Cleansing (for advanced players). It turned out that behind Adolfs seemingly innocent love of Scrabble, there was a darker aspect to his enthusiasm, apparently he was hoping to create a game that consisted only of a cloned set of all blank super-tiles, making the game into something very messy indeed. A little known fact as footnote is that his secret favourite was the dice game Yahtzee, and in 1938 he temporarily changed the name of his political group from the Nazi Party to the Yahtzee Party, memorabilia of fluffy dice with swastika emblems are now the most highly sought after war antiques at Sothebys.
Nostrildamage – 15th century coke-addicted Prophet
When someone is into difficulties in water, its usually preferable than being the poor bugger who jumps in to save them but usually dies while the originl victim is invariably rescued.
Date rape is really great fun, but I find that the fresh produce aisle at Asda is usually too busy to get it on with exotic fruit for any length of time.
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