Astronomers on the new Herschel satellite telescope team have discovered a giant corn flake floating in space. And remarkably, the previously unspotted corn flake which is twenty million miles wide and thirty million miles long, is only about one thousand miles from Earth - making it the closest celestial object to our planet.
The amazing discovery means scientists must re-map the night sky, our solar system and the galaxy as we know it, and must even rethink the Big Bang theory itself.
"The corn flake sits between Earth and Mars, and seems to be stationary," said Dr Boffin McBoffin of the European Space Agency's Herschel team.
Asked where it had come from and why hadn't it been spotted earlier, Dr McBoffin explained, "It seems it has always been there, but because it is made from special invisible particles called Fairy Dust, which must be viewed from a particular angle, we just hadn't seen it."
"Fairy Dust is a compound of corn, silk and bullshit atoms, and can only be seen by sticking one's head in a goldfish bowl and crossing the fingers of both hands, then making a wish while saying the magic words 'hubbledy-bubbledy-beam-me-up-Scotty.' The scientific discipline has never adhered to this practice, prefering instead to follow a more conventional perspective. It is, quite simply, a case of us not looking at it in the right way. It's as simple as that."
Mr McBoffin went on to explain that if it wasn't for his colleague, Dr Alan Star, who took it upon himself to practice the age-old 'fairy dust routine' - thought to have originated with the ancient Sumerian civilisation of the area now known as modern day Iraq - as a result of a drunken argument with a female colleague about the resonance of moon farts.
"He was very drunk at the time, as we were celebrating the succesful switching-on of the Herschel satellite's CCTV monitors. He decided he'd had enough of science's "blind" blanket denial of lunar flatulence, and announced he would from now on follow the Fairy Dust Code. Little did he know he was on the verge of an amazing astronomical discovery."
The scientists stress that, despite its close proximity to Earth, the corn flake poses no threat to life as we know it.
"Due to its bullshitty composition and silky texture Fairy Dust is much too soft to cause any damage whatsoever. It is too light to have any gravity of it's own. The entire mass of this enormous corn flake put together would be no bigger than that of Kate Moss, or perhaps the two Cheeky Girls put together."
"Can you imagine Kate Moss falling towards Earth from space? She wouldn't make it into the earth's atmosphere without evaporating in a flash of light not bigger than a mosquito hitting a mosquito killing whatcha-ma-call-it thing in a Bangkok back street restaurant."
On the prospect of finding more giant corn flakes 'lying around' in space, the Doctor confirmed it was very likely there were others "out there, somewhere."
"We are now working on developing a Fairy Dust Lens that can be fitted onto telescopes. It is hoped we will then be able to look for corn flakes further afield, right on the edges of known space. The probability is that we will find more of these objects, if not here in our solar system, then certainly floating around in the Milky Way."
Wednesday 7 October 2009
Monday 5 October 2009
Lassie was KGB Agent Claims Book
A new book claims Hollywood star Lassie, the famous 'talking' Scottish Collie that solved murders and saved hapless humans from certain death, was a secret Soviet spy.The claims made by Donald McDonald in 'Ruffled: Lassie's Secret Collied War' are sure to break the hearts of millions of fans across many generations who grew up watching the loveable long haired mutt on their screens from the 1940s right up to the present day.
It is not clear excactly what secrets Lassie (pictured above on set of Lassie Come Home) passed on to the KGB but the dog's increasingly hedonistic antics and string of affairs with high profile US Senators in the 50s and 60s will surely raise concerns that she may have gained access to secrets relating to the US nuclear programme.
Shocking revelations about the constipated collie, renouned for never shitting on set, include the dog's battle with bulemia, anorexia and amphetamine addiction, and of ten day drink, drugs and sex binges littered with violent rages and scrapes with dog wardens in California and New York, leading up to her death from worms, distemper and alcohol poisoning in June, 1971.
Distraught 80 year old fan, Emma Lou Ellen, who grew up reading the books and later became hooked on the films and TV series, could barely find the words to describe her feelings. Fighting back the tears she could only muster the odd sigh. "Oh my," said her sister Marylou. "Oh my, oh my, oh my...!"
Devastated brothers John Boy and Billy Bob Williams from Indiana were a little more forthcoming. "It makes you sick don't it?" spat John Boy. "That poor dawg probably got corrupted by them queer cocksuckin commie drug snortin hippy film folk."
Barely containing his anger, his brother added, "We wus all huddled up in front of the Tee-Vee, us and our cousins, Megan, Jenny, Maggie, John JR. We loved that goddamned dawg. And all that time, the bitch was a dirty filthy traitor!"
But many fans refused to believe the claims and condemned the book as an "evil smear campaign" against Christian values and "the word of God as manifested in Lassie's goodness towards her fellow man."
"These evil lies are the words of Satan," roared Martha Clanton of the Official Lassie Fan Club. "What further proof can one need than the fact they are written in a book. A book! We know books are evil and are the vile teachings of heretics and false prophets. There is only one true book and that's the Holy Bible of our Lord, Amen. Although, it must be said that Sarah Palin's 'Cooking With Guns' is a mighty fine read by a mighty fine woman."
"But Lassie was the vessel of Christ our Lord. And she loved America. This here pack o' lies is a direct attack on Jesus and America, plain and simple. Someone's gonna swing for this here pile of shit."
Another aspect of Lassie's controversial lifestyle discussed in detail in the book - and one sure to rile those who, like Martha, are unaware of it, is the open secret among Lassie's closest circle of friends that Lassie wasn't female at all, but was a gay transvestite dog named Fido (above, without wig), who regularly cruised public parks and used rent poodles to satisfy his insatiable appetite for gay doggie sex.
Saturday 3 October 2009
Party Leaders Agree to Public Custard Wrestle
Gordon Brown has finally accepted the homoerotic and slightly creepy challenge thrown down by Eton-educated Conservative leader David Cameron, meaning the long awaited live custard wrestling contest between the two leaders will at last go ahead.
Excitement spread through Westminster as the news circulated that the participants will fight naked apart from their socks - a tradition, the Stick understands, that is rooted in the Duke of Wellington's defiant "we'll knock your bloody socks off" war-cry before the battle of Waterloo.
And in a further development, it emerged that the Lib-Dem leader, Erm Clegg, who's always hanging around trying to be one of the boys, will also join them - even though he wasn't invited - meaning that the public have a three-way slimy mangrope to look forward to (a sort of '50% extra free' deal), as opposed to standard two-way twat-making.
It is unclear as to where excactly the bout will take place, although Government sources have dismissed reports that it will be staged at Lord Mandelson's country estate as "mischevious".
But it has been confirmed that, in an attempt to further popularize the event and to give the combatants the 'common touch', the wrestle will be preceded by a live Expletive Exchange, in which the three cunts will insult each other using every day 'fucker on the street' language and terms the general public normally use when refering to them.
This exchange will be engaged while strutting their stuff on the podium before diving headlong into an inflatable paddling pool filled to the brim with 1,000 gallons of Bird's Custard. And, in a further twist, a freshly introduced rule states that at least 50% of the exchange must be performed through the medium of rapping.
Judges with stopwatches will monitor the exchange, counting swearwords and original put-downs while ensuring the minimum requirement of rap usage is observed.
The referee for the wrestling match has been named as BBC election result forecaster extraordinaire - manic graphic maverick Peter Snow - who could hardly conceal his excitement at his nomination as he threw a whole bag of Mexican mushrooms down his neck and ran out to sacrifice a chicken on his front lawn.
As news of the Prime Minister's decision broke, Mr Cameron responded by saying it was about time "that bounder and cad Brown faced up to a bloody good thrashing."
"I've waited for this moment for a very long time. I shall show him what a Conservative Party Leader can do. He may be big, but I have studied him, and he is what one calls 'all mouth'. I shall fill that mouth with a bunch of fives. A bloody good 'rogering' is well overdue."
When pressed that his inexperience in 'fuckery and cuntery' would be a handicap in the expletive round, Mr Cameron frowned. "Look, just because one is middle class, it does not mean one is incapable of having the common touch needed to communicate with rough, foul-mouthed working class types."
Adopting a strange and unconvincing Cockney accent littered with posh slips, Mr Cameron insisted he could "jolly well swear with the best of 'em, guvnor. I ain't no ponce, dear boy. That Gordon Brahn, e's fackin fackd. Cahnt."
Though he wasn't asked for it, Lib-Dem leader, Erm* Clegg, gave his reaction. But we can't really remember what it was because we didn't listen.
(*our researchers swear that's his real name, but this could not be verified)
Excitement spread through Westminster as the news circulated that the participants will fight naked apart from their socks - a tradition, the Stick understands, that is rooted in the Duke of Wellington's defiant "we'll knock your bloody socks off" war-cry before the battle of Waterloo.
And in a further development, it emerged that the Lib-Dem leader, Erm Clegg, who's always hanging around trying to be one of the boys, will also join them - even though he wasn't invited - meaning that the public have a three-way slimy mangrope to look forward to (a sort of '50% extra free' deal), as opposed to standard two-way twat-making.
It is unclear as to where excactly the bout will take place, although Government sources have dismissed reports that it will be staged at Lord Mandelson's country estate as "mischevious".
But it has been confirmed that, in an attempt to further popularize the event and to give the combatants the 'common touch', the wrestle will be preceded by a live Expletive Exchange, in which the three cunts will insult each other using every day 'fucker on the street' language and terms the general public normally use when refering to them.
This exchange will be engaged while strutting their stuff on the podium before diving headlong into an inflatable paddling pool filled to the brim with 1,000 gallons of Bird's Custard. And, in a further twist, a freshly introduced rule states that at least 50% of the exchange must be performed through the medium of rapping.
Judges with stopwatches will monitor the exchange, counting swearwords and original put-downs while ensuring the minimum requirement of rap usage is observed.
The referee for the wrestling match has been named as BBC election result forecaster extraordinaire - manic graphic maverick Peter Snow - who could hardly conceal his excitement at his nomination as he threw a whole bag of Mexican mushrooms down his neck and ran out to sacrifice a chicken on his front lawn.
As news of the Prime Minister's decision broke, Mr Cameron responded by saying it was about time "that bounder and cad Brown faced up to a bloody good thrashing."
"I've waited for this moment for a very long time. I shall show him what a Conservative Party Leader can do. He may be big, but I have studied him, and he is what one calls 'all mouth'. I shall fill that mouth with a bunch of fives. A bloody good 'rogering' is well overdue."
When pressed that his inexperience in 'fuckery and cuntery' would be a handicap in the expletive round, Mr Cameron frowned. "Look, just because one is middle class, it does not mean one is incapable of having the common touch needed to communicate with rough, foul-mouthed working class types."
Adopting a strange and unconvincing Cockney accent littered with posh slips, Mr Cameron insisted he could "jolly well swear with the best of 'em, guvnor. I ain't no ponce, dear boy. That Gordon Brahn, e's fackin fackd. Cahnt."
Though he wasn't asked for it, Lib-Dem leader, Erm* Clegg, gave his reaction. But we can't really remember what it was because we didn't listen.
(*our researchers swear that's his real name, but this could not be verified)
MOTD to Stop Screening Ugly Footballers
The football world was plunged into crisis last night as the BBC's flagship football highlights programme Match of the Day defended its decision to stop screening football matches involving "ugly" footballers.
Following new government guidelines on child traumatic stress the BBC has issued a directive calling on all departments to look closely at high risk programmes where children could be traumatized by what they see on their screens.
Some of the Premiership's biggest clubs will be affected by the ban, including champions Man Utd, who have "Shrek lookalike" Wayne Rooney on the ugly list, and free-spending high flyers Manchester City, who's Carlos Tevez and Joleon Lescott have already been warned by police to to stay indoors after 8pm.
Though Match of the Day and its sister programme Match of the Day 2 are televised after the watershed, producers are aware that half the programmes' audience are children under the age of 10, hence the light-hearted, whimsical and condescending tone of Gary Lineker's presenting.
Referring to the 'Beardsley Debate', when more than a thousand children needed psychiatric treatment and/or counselling in 1993 after watching Newcastle's hunchbacked beast Peter Beardsley's post-match interview following a hatrick in the Magpies' 4-0 thumping of Wimbledon, Match of the Day producer, Mark Mantoman, said the governent position meant they can no longer "take such chances."
"We are currently in the process of identifying those clubs who have ugly players in their first team squads, with a view to enter negotiations to explore ways of avoiding the loss of revenue incurred by the loss of television fees."
"There are many suggestions on the table. Editing techniques would be useless if the uglies were to score a goal, and employing digital pixelation of the players' faces could be risky, as such techniques can sometimes enhance the deformities of the unfortunate creature's facial features."
"It's a difficult one. We can't ask managers not to play their grotesque palyers, but we may ask them to consider making them wear hoods, masks or have plastic surgery. A compromise may be possible, whereas we ask managers to release their team sheets one day in advance to enable us to drop the matches from our schedule. Failure to find a solution may result in those clubs being excluded entirely from future programmes."
It is understood, however, that the BBC have drawn up a system of grading players' suitability to be televised. The numbered Ugly Scale proposed ranges through 1 - 'ginger or back-of-the-team-photo jobs' like Stoke and Portsmouth stars Dave Kitson and Nwankwo Kanu, 2 - 'thuggish, scary and villainous' such as Aston Villa defenders Richard Dunne and James Collins, 3 - 'weird and/or plain ugly' like Spurs beanstalk Peter Crouch and Villa Laa-Laa lookalike Gabriel Agbonlahor, 4 - abominable and/or deformed, such as United ogre Rooney, Everton's Frankenstine freak Phil Neville and Liverpool alien Dirk Kyut, and 5 - complete write-offs such as Tevez and Lescott.
In a pro-active move "aimed at maintaining fairness and an unbiased approach to the new guidelines" the BBC confirmed it had already sacked Match of the Day 2 presenter Adrian Chiles, who's rating on the proposed Ugly Scale was 5+.
The ban will also be extended to the BBC's new Football League programme which follows Match of the Day on Saturday nights and covers Championship, League One and League Two matches.
"There are some monsters playing in the lower leagues - some species we are yet to discover," said a BBC spokesperson, adding, "We apologise to fans but maintain we have to be dilligent in our responsibility to safeguard children from nightmare-inducing images on our programmes."
It's not clear if the ban will include managers, but Harry Redknapp's lawyers are said to be preparing a legal challenge, lest any such moves are initiated.
Following new government guidelines on child traumatic stress the BBC has issued a directive calling on all departments to look closely at high risk programmes where children could be traumatized by what they see on their screens.
Some of the Premiership's biggest clubs will be affected by the ban, including champions Man Utd, who have "Shrek lookalike" Wayne Rooney on the ugly list, and free-spending high flyers Manchester City, who's Carlos Tevez and Joleon Lescott have already been warned by police to to stay indoors after 8pm.
Though Match of the Day and its sister programme Match of the Day 2 are televised after the watershed, producers are aware that half the programmes' audience are children under the age of 10, hence the light-hearted, whimsical and condescending tone of Gary Lineker's presenting.
Referring to the 'Beardsley Debate', when more than a thousand children needed psychiatric treatment and/or counselling in 1993 after watching Newcastle's hunchbacked beast Peter Beardsley's post-match interview following a hatrick in the Magpies' 4-0 thumping of Wimbledon, Match of the Day producer, Mark Mantoman, said the governent position meant they can no longer "take such chances."
"We are currently in the process of identifying those clubs who have ugly players in their first team squads, with a view to enter negotiations to explore ways of avoiding the loss of revenue incurred by the loss of television fees."
"There are many suggestions on the table. Editing techniques would be useless if the uglies were to score a goal, and employing digital pixelation of the players' faces could be risky, as such techniques can sometimes enhance the deformities of the unfortunate creature's facial features."
"It's a difficult one. We can't ask managers not to play their grotesque palyers, but we may ask them to consider making them wear hoods, masks or have plastic surgery. A compromise may be possible, whereas we ask managers to release their team sheets one day in advance to enable us to drop the matches from our schedule. Failure to find a solution may result in those clubs being excluded entirely from future programmes."
It is understood, however, that the BBC have drawn up a system of grading players' suitability to be televised. The numbered Ugly Scale proposed ranges through 1 - 'ginger or back-of-the-team-photo jobs' like Stoke and Portsmouth stars Dave Kitson and Nwankwo Kanu, 2 - 'thuggish, scary and villainous' such as Aston Villa defenders Richard Dunne and James Collins, 3 - 'weird and/or plain ugly' like Spurs beanstalk Peter Crouch and Villa Laa-Laa lookalike Gabriel Agbonlahor, 4 - abominable and/or deformed, such as United ogre Rooney, Everton's Frankenstine freak Phil Neville and Liverpool alien Dirk Kyut, and 5 - complete write-offs such as Tevez and Lescott.
In a pro-active move "aimed at maintaining fairness and an unbiased approach to the new guidelines" the BBC confirmed it had already sacked Match of the Day 2 presenter Adrian Chiles, who's rating on the proposed Ugly Scale was 5+.
The ban will also be extended to the BBC's new Football League programme which follows Match of the Day on Saturday nights and covers Championship, League One and League Two matches.
"There are some monsters playing in the lower leagues - some species we are yet to discover," said a BBC spokesperson, adding, "We apologise to fans but maintain we have to be dilligent in our responsibility to safeguard children from nightmare-inducing images on our programmes."
It's not clear if the ban will include managers, but Harry Redknapp's lawyers are said to be preparing a legal challenge, lest any such moves are initiated.
Friday 2 October 2009
Titfucking Reduces Risk of Breast Cancer - Report
A regular titwank significantly reduces the risk of breast cancer in women. That's the remarkable conclusion of a survey conducted over five years by a team of scientists at the University of Hobotown, Louisiana.
The wide-ranging survey found that 91% of women who suffered breast cancer had never, or very rarely, indulged in the sexual practice of having their partners ejaculate over their breasts during "consenting sexual encounters".
Of the 1,000 women studied, 100% of those who did enjoy regular 'breast intercourse' did not go on to develop the disease.
"As yet we don't know what excactly is at play here," said Dr Zachary Debaucherie, who led the team of boffins. "But there is no doubt that something is."
"'Breast intercourse', commonly known as a titwank, is a form of deriving sexual pleasure between two consenting adults by having the male partner manipulate the breasts into a position whereby the penis can be 'inserted' between them, allowing the act of intercourse with the busom and facilitating ejaculation over them."
"It may be that semen contains an as yet unknown chemical which, when massaged into the breasts - particularly around the area of the nipples - restricts the conditions necessary for cancer cells to develop."
Questioned why the report's findings were so conclusive Dr Debaucherie admitted his own surprise, but stated categorically that the findings, based on five years "intensive" research and intricate studies, were sound.
"A result of 100% is, of course, quite astounding. But there is no question, the findings conclusively and categorically show that a good titfuck - say, four or five times a week - does indeed considerably reduce the risk of cancer, therefore prolonging a woman's life expectancy considerably."
Women's groups have been vocal in their doubts of the veracity of the report, citing irregularities in both the approach taken by the research team and the fact that the team itself consisted solely of male scientists.
There have been accusations of malpractice and claims that at least five of the six man team had no scientific qualifications whatsoever, but were in fact a taxi driver, a circus escapologist, a park warden and two IT students from Nebraska.
The lack of scrutiny by regulatory bodies is a major concern. Some have gone as far as to publicly describe the survey as "gratuitous in the extreme" and of falsifying results with the intention of duping women into consenting to their partner's perverted sexual demands - a concern reinforced by triumphalist messages such as "titwank me bitch" and "ice those buns baby" left by mysogonists on blogs and message-boards all over the internet.
"Ads have appeared for 'free sunblock lotion' in telephone booths on beaches up and down the country," said Raquel 'Dave' McFarlane of women's rights group Suspicion is Wisdom.
"Sadly it is a typical reaction," said Dr Debaucherie. "Accusations of demeaning women are innacurate. My advice to them is to try it. They never know, they may like it."
The wide-ranging survey found that 91% of women who suffered breast cancer had never, or very rarely, indulged in the sexual practice of having their partners ejaculate over their breasts during "consenting sexual encounters".
Of the 1,000 women studied, 100% of those who did enjoy regular 'breast intercourse' did not go on to develop the disease.
"As yet we don't know what excactly is at play here," said Dr Zachary Debaucherie, who led the team of boffins. "But there is no doubt that something is."
"'Breast intercourse', commonly known as a titwank, is a form of deriving sexual pleasure between two consenting adults by having the male partner manipulate the breasts into a position whereby the penis can be 'inserted' between them, allowing the act of intercourse with the busom and facilitating ejaculation over them."
"It may be that semen contains an as yet unknown chemical which, when massaged into the breasts - particularly around the area of the nipples - restricts the conditions necessary for cancer cells to develop."
Questioned why the report's findings were so conclusive Dr Debaucherie admitted his own surprise, but stated categorically that the findings, based on five years "intensive" research and intricate studies, were sound.
"A result of 100% is, of course, quite astounding. But there is no question, the findings conclusively and categorically show that a good titfuck - say, four or five times a week - does indeed considerably reduce the risk of cancer, therefore prolonging a woman's life expectancy considerably."
Women's groups have been vocal in their doubts of the veracity of the report, citing irregularities in both the approach taken by the research team and the fact that the team itself consisted solely of male scientists.
There have been accusations of malpractice and claims that at least five of the six man team had no scientific qualifications whatsoever, but were in fact a taxi driver, a circus escapologist, a park warden and two IT students from Nebraska.
The lack of scrutiny by regulatory bodies is a major concern. Some have gone as far as to publicly describe the survey as "gratuitous in the extreme" and of falsifying results with the intention of duping women into consenting to their partner's perverted sexual demands - a concern reinforced by triumphalist messages such as "titwank me bitch" and "ice those buns baby" left by mysogonists on blogs and message-boards all over the internet.
"Ads have appeared for 'free sunblock lotion' in telephone booths on beaches up and down the country," said Raquel 'Dave' McFarlane of women's rights group Suspicion is Wisdom.
"Sadly it is a typical reaction," said Dr Debaucherie. "Accusations of demeaning women are innacurate. My advice to them is to try it. They never know, they may like it."
Thursday 1 October 2009
National Talk Like Verne Troyer Day
Today is National Talk Like Verne Troyer Day. It is a day when all you childish, irritating wankers in offices up and down the country can annoy your workmates to the edge of psychosis by taking advantage of the latest 'fun day' set aside by a mysterious council of idiots for being just plain silly.
Talking like the spunkstain-sized Mini-Me actor is easy. Simply pretend you are a giggly, talking mouse and you can drive your colleagues to the edge of sanity by mid-morning coffee. Get your own back on your boss, or have fun phoning clients and give them a taste of your intoxicating zaniness.
Order office supplies for your department, book a holiday in France, or order a savoury chicken and sun-dried tomato chapatta at your local sandwich bar for lunch. Bring out that entertainer inside you that's always been craving to come out, while really just convincing every one you are a retard and a pain in the arse of Sumatran earthquake proportions.
Remember to keep your wickeddy-wickeddy wickedness up all day. You must talk in a squeaky high-pitched ultrasonic voice until midnight tonight, or until you have set off every car alarm in your office car park, all dogs in the neighbourhood have savaged their owners' children, or, preferably, you have been ripped to pieces and eaten alive by cats.
National Talk Like Verne Troyer Day - another fun day for twats.
Talking like the spunkstain-sized Mini-Me actor is easy. Simply pretend you are a giggly, talking mouse and you can drive your colleagues to the edge of sanity by mid-morning coffee. Get your own back on your boss, or have fun phoning clients and give them a taste of your intoxicating zaniness.
Order office supplies for your department, book a holiday in France, or order a savoury chicken and sun-dried tomato chapatta at your local sandwich bar for lunch. Bring out that entertainer inside you that's always been craving to come out, while really just convincing every one you are a retard and a pain in the arse of Sumatran earthquake proportions.
Remember to keep your wickeddy-wickeddy wickedness up all day. You must talk in a squeaky high-pitched ultrasonic voice until midnight tonight, or until you have set off every car alarm in your office car park, all dogs in the neighbourhood have savaged their owners' children, or, preferably, you have been ripped to pieces and eaten alive by cats.
National Talk Like Verne Troyer Day - another fun day for twats.
Wednesday 30 September 2009
Chavs Ruining Snowdon Experience for Decent Folks
The newly built £8.4m Snowdon summit cafe has become a hang-out for gangs of anti-social teenagers who ruin the summit experience on Wales' highest mountain.
That is the conclusion of a damning report commisioned by the Snowdonia National Park Authority on behalf of the Ramblers Association.
The state of the art weatherproof building, opened this year by First Secretary Rhodri Morgan, was commisioned after Prince Charles described the previous building as the "highest slum in Wales." The steel framed building, built with steel, granite, slate and Welsh oak, was heralded as an engineering masterpiece and an eye-catching oasis for weary walkers seeking rest and refreshments after climbing the 3,560ft peak.
But feedback from visitors paints a different picture, as Geraldine Frisk of the Ramblers Association explained. "Foul-mouthed teenage chavs seem to have colonised the summit since the erection of the new cafe. They hang around in gangs, spitting and swearing. It is very intimidating."
A Hafod Eryri (the cafe's name) worker, who was afraid of giving his name for fear of reprisals, said that walking the short distance from the entrance to path at the end of a day's shift was like "running a gauntlet of hate."
"These youths seem to be attracted by the sheltered area outside the building, the steps from the cafe to the summit - which is a magnet for the skateboarders among them - and the opportunity to harass and harangue strangers for no apparent reason. There was about thirty of them here last week, drinking and playing loud music from boomboxes and shit. They are anti-social and a serious menace. Most of them have ASBOs on their baseboll-capped asses."
Snowdonia National Park spokesman Alain Trebuchet said they had tried luring the youths away by imitating the mating call of hip-hop starDizzee Rascal, but the strategy didn't quite go to plan.
"They became quite animated and started breakdancing on the cliff edge, so obviously we had to change tactics. Playing loud Country & Western music to drive them away looked promising at first, but a walker who had come here to forget about his marriage break-up threw himself off the edge and plummeted 1,000 feet to his death. So that plan was also jetisoned."
Local councillor Cadwaladr Jones said the police helicopter was called up one day in summer, only to be pelted with stones and bottles and forced to retreat to the relative safety of nearby Grib Goch ridge. He added that the Park Authority should never have built the new cafe in the first place.
"Slum or not, we didn't have this problem with the old building. The worst we had was flocks of marauding seagulls, which could be shot. You can't shoot these fuckers, which is scandalous."
Not only can the "yobs" become violent, said Mr Jones, but they are a serious health and safety hazard. "A lady from Llandudno was knocked over by a skateboarder only the other day, and a family of four had a narrow escape when they slipped on all the phlegm on the steps by the cliff's edge over there."
But Llaid Gwynedd councillor Helen Clarke-Smythe placed the blame firmly with the Plaid Cymru-led Gwynedd Council. "These feral children would not be here if the council had not closed the public toilets in nearby villages."
Plaid Cymru spokesperson Ongwyn ap Edno responded by blaming the parents.
That is the conclusion of a damning report commisioned by the Snowdonia National Park Authority on behalf of the Ramblers Association.
The state of the art weatherproof building, opened this year by First Secretary Rhodri Morgan, was commisioned after Prince Charles described the previous building as the "highest slum in Wales." The steel framed building, built with steel, granite, slate and Welsh oak, was heralded as an engineering masterpiece and an eye-catching oasis for weary walkers seeking rest and refreshments after climbing the 3,560ft peak.
But feedback from visitors paints a different picture, as Geraldine Frisk of the Ramblers Association explained. "Foul-mouthed teenage chavs seem to have colonised the summit since the erection of the new cafe. They hang around in gangs, spitting and swearing. It is very intimidating."
A Hafod Eryri (the cafe's name) worker, who was afraid of giving his name for fear of reprisals, said that walking the short distance from the entrance to path at the end of a day's shift was like "running a gauntlet of hate."
"These youths seem to be attracted by the sheltered area outside the building, the steps from the cafe to the summit - which is a magnet for the skateboarders among them - and the opportunity to harass and harangue strangers for no apparent reason. There was about thirty of them here last week, drinking and playing loud music from boomboxes and shit. They are anti-social and a serious menace. Most of them have ASBOs on their baseboll-capped asses."
Snowdonia National Park spokesman Alain Trebuchet said they had tried luring the youths away by imitating the mating call of hip-hop starDizzee Rascal, but the strategy didn't quite go to plan.
"They became quite animated and started breakdancing on the cliff edge, so obviously we had to change tactics. Playing loud Country & Western music to drive them away looked promising at first, but a walker who had come here to forget about his marriage break-up threw himself off the edge and plummeted 1,000 feet to his death. So that plan was also jetisoned."
Local councillor Cadwaladr Jones said the police helicopter was called up one day in summer, only to be pelted with stones and bottles and forced to retreat to the relative safety of nearby Grib Goch ridge. He added that the Park Authority should never have built the new cafe in the first place.
"Slum or not, we didn't have this problem with the old building. The worst we had was flocks of marauding seagulls, which could be shot. You can't shoot these fuckers, which is scandalous."
Not only can the "yobs" become violent, said Mr Jones, but they are a serious health and safety hazard. "A lady from Llandudno was knocked over by a skateboarder only the other day, and a family of four had a narrow escape when they slipped on all the phlegm on the steps by the cliff's edge over there."
But Llaid Gwynedd councillor Helen Clarke-Smythe placed the blame firmly with the Plaid Cymru-led Gwynedd Council. "These feral children would not be here if the council had not closed the public toilets in nearby villages."
Plaid Cymru spokesperson Ongwyn ap Edno responded by blaming the parents.
Tuesday 29 September 2009
'I Love Gordon So Much' Claims Canary
A canary spoke of his undying love and unyielding admiration for Prime Minister Gordon Brown at a Labour Conference fringe event last night.
Speaking at a
fundraising dinner hosted by Green Labour, the party's environmental wing, Colin Canary told members that twenty years of night-clubbing and fantastic sex had made him realise what a Prime Minister's disco stick was like "up close."
Mr Canary speaking last night
And in a thinly-veiled attack on the Prime Minister's wife Sarah Brown for "deluded" and "fantastical" claims she made in a vomit-enducing appraisal to conference, Mr Canary claimed that Mrs Brown is merely a stand-in as the public face of the Prime Minister's personal life.
"Their marriage is a sham. I am Gordie's real wife and lover. Gordie loves me, always has and always will, and that jumped-up Scottish tart knows it."
Mr Canary, from Bolton, claimed that although Sarah Brown at first accepted her relationship with the PM was purely professional, she has recently become convinced that her marriage to Brown is real. "Her speech today was the last straw, and I feel I have no choice but to speak out," said the irate avian.
"I have kept my silence for nine years, out of love and loyalty to Gordon as Chancellor, and now as Prime Minister. But it has become obvious this woman, as soon as he became PM, started eyeing the nest like a devious, scheming cuckoo."
"I'm not the jealous kind," added Mr Canary. "But how would you feel seeing a stranger publicly claiming she sleeps with your husband, sharing his personal details with a room full of strangers in suits? Yes he is 'messy' and 'noisy', and yes he gets out of bed at some 'terrible' hours, but he gets out of my bed, not that cow's."
Speaking at a
fundraising dinner hosted by Green Labour, the party's environmental wing, Colin Canary told members that twenty years of night-clubbing and fantastic sex had made him realise what a Prime Minister's disco stick was like "up close."Mr Canary speaking last night
And in a thinly-veiled attack on the Prime Minister's wife Sarah Brown for "deluded" and "fantastical" claims she made in a vomit-enducing appraisal to conference, Mr Canary claimed that Mrs Brown is merely a stand-in as the public face of the Prime Minister's personal life.
"Their marriage is a sham. I am Gordie's real wife and lover. Gordie loves me, always has and always will, and that jumped-up Scottish tart knows it."
Mr Canary, from Bolton, claimed that although Sarah Brown at first accepted her relationship with the PM was purely professional, she has recently become convinced that her marriage to Brown is real. "Her speech today was the last straw, and I feel I have no choice but to speak out," said the irate avian.
"I have kept my silence for nine years, out of love and loyalty to Gordon as Chancellor, and now as Prime Minister. But it has become obvious this woman, as soon as he became PM, started eyeing the nest like a devious, scheming cuckoo."
"I'm not the jealous kind," added Mr Canary. "But how would you feel seeing a stranger publicly claiming she sleeps with your husband, sharing his personal details with a room full of strangers in suits? Yes he is 'messy' and 'noisy', and yes he gets out of bed at some 'terrible' hours, but he gets out of my bed, not that cow's."
Sunday 27 September 2009
I May or May Not Be Vaguer Later - Rhodri
In what may or may not be his last speech to conference as Welsh First Minister, Rhodri Morgan promised he may or may not be as vague in days to come.
Hinting that he might be stepping down sooner or later in the near or not too near future, Mr Morgan - if indeed that is or isn't his real name - stated that for the moment he is still very much First Minister, and maybe will be for a while, but that the time may come some time soon for him to maybe announce, or possibly realease a written statement, that he would step down, maybe step aside, or perhaps side-step, and let someone else take the leadership of the Welsh Labour - or Welsh New Labour - Party.
Somewhat confused delegates condescendingly applauded the Clown Prince of Wales as he suggested a decision may or may not be imminent, but that it would probably be sooner rather than later, but possible later than that, although it could also be further along the line, or even further still.
He would or could not reveal when excactly but, with a nod and a wink he implied it was possible that "Wales' worst kept secret" (that he was to move aside) that he would probably resign as Leader before the next conference, leaving voters with excactly 365 days to choose as a possible date for this. That was, he said, if he wouldn't change his mind, adding that a sweepstake would be organised at a pound or two a go, with the money raised going to either the Royal Society for the Terminally Confused, the All-Wales Flustered Ex-Servicemen, Steelworkers Or Was It Quarrymen Society, or the Guild of Vaguely Titled Brotherhoods.
Before he left the stage to more bewildered and humouring, than adoring, applause, Mr Morgan implied that the way forward for any would-be replacement was to "do whatever, whenever and wherever possible" to get "things" done, and to by-and-large get Labour - or New Labour's - fortunes back on the general track which is primarily in the right direction in general.
"He or she, or they, will need to get things right, to gather the right ingredients for the right recipe to make the right dish that would complement a meal that would rekindle voters' appetites for some food."
Such ingredients, he hinted, were "to be found sometimes, but not all times, and sometimes not even found at all, at a place where a river runs strong, a road runs west, where there are two or three, maybe ten, fields, with some trees or scrubs nearby."
In closing, Mr Morgan was a tad less vague as he pledged that, "When the time comes, if it does indeed come, for me to leave, what I can say to you all here - and to those who may or may not be watching on television, listening on the wireless or the web, or reading in tomorrow's papers over a cup of tea or coffee - is that I am determined to endeavour to either be less vague or vaguer as I enjoy my retirement doing things in places here and there, and sometimes everywhere."
An emotional Mr Morgan then left the stage, stopping and changing direction twice, before reaching the stage seating, sitting in peter Hain's lap, before settling in his own seat with a bottle of Evian that had its label peeled off.
Hinting that he might be stepping down sooner or later in the near or not too near future, Mr Morgan - if indeed that is or isn't his real name - stated that for the moment he is still very much First Minister, and maybe will be for a while, but that the time may come some time soon for him to maybe announce, or possibly realease a written statement, that he would step down, maybe step aside, or perhaps side-step, and let someone else take the leadership of the Welsh Labour - or Welsh New Labour - Party.
Somewhat confused delegates condescendingly applauded the Clown Prince of Wales as he suggested a decision may or may not be imminent, but that it would probably be sooner rather than later, but possible later than that, although it could also be further along the line, or even further still.
He would or could not reveal when excactly but, with a nod and a wink he implied it was possible that "Wales' worst kept secret" (that he was to move aside) that he would probably resign as Leader before the next conference, leaving voters with excactly 365 days to choose as a possible date for this. That was, he said, if he wouldn't change his mind, adding that a sweepstake would be organised at a pound or two a go, with the money raised going to either the Royal Society for the Terminally Confused, the All-Wales Flustered Ex-Servicemen, Steelworkers Or Was It Quarrymen Society, or the Guild of Vaguely Titled Brotherhoods.
Before he left the stage to more bewildered and humouring, than adoring, applause, Mr Morgan implied that the way forward for any would-be replacement was to "do whatever, whenever and wherever possible" to get "things" done, and to by-and-large get Labour - or New Labour's - fortunes back on the general track which is primarily in the right direction in general.
"He or she, or they, will need to get things right, to gather the right ingredients for the right recipe to make the right dish that would complement a meal that would rekindle voters' appetites for some food."
Such ingredients, he hinted, were "to be found sometimes, but not all times, and sometimes not even found at all, at a place where a river runs strong, a road runs west, where there are two or three, maybe ten, fields, with some trees or scrubs nearby."
In closing, Mr Morgan was a tad less vague as he pledged that, "When the time comes, if it does indeed come, for me to leave, what I can say to you all here - and to those who may or may not be watching on television, listening on the wireless or the web, or reading in tomorrow's papers over a cup of tea or coffee - is that I am determined to endeavour to either be less vague or vaguer as I enjoy my retirement doing things in places here and there, and sometimes everywhere."
An emotional Mr Morgan then left the stage, stopping and changing direction twice, before reaching the stage seating, sitting in peter Hain's lap, before settling in his own seat with a bottle of Evian that had its label peeled off.
State of the Art Occult Sensor Catches Mandelson Entering Conference
A major security alert was sparked by Lord Mandelson at the Labour Party Conference in Brighton today, fuelling further speculation of alleged links to the Forces of Evil.
The Business Secretary was refused entry to the conference hall as the new £50M state-of-the-art Silver Bullet occult sensor, dubbed the Bogeybuster, went off as he entered the building, sending screaming delegates running for the exits as security staff armed with crosses and garlic grenades surrounded the Lord, screaming "Get thee down, vile beast, hands behind thy horns, in the name of the Lord..."
According to witnesses, Mandelson "just stood there" with a "spooky smile on his mush" and calmly yet menacingly replied, "But I AM the Lord."
"I was shitting myself," said Deborah Grey-Tomkinson, Chairperson of Tower Hamlets Council. "At first I thought it was a suicide bomber, but then I realised it was him - the Dark One - been caught by the new ghostie thingee."
Another witness, Bob Crowe, tough-talking Bolshie General Secretary of the RMT, said he was relieved the system had worked. "I had my doubts at first - it seems a lot of money to spend on a metal detector with a hoover attached. But it's reassuring to see it can indeed be of benefit to my comrades by blocking evil capitalist monsters from influencing the democratic decisions of conference. Mandelson should be kept at bay at all costs. He's a complete cunt."
Fears were raised about the effectiveness of the new system however, as it emerged that it had failed to detect Lord Mandelson's presence on two previous occasions. In the first instance he was spotted in the gents toilet after an eagle-eyed party worker spotted he had no reflection in the mirror. He was ejected, but not until he had almost choked his spotter to death with a remote death grip - a claim Mr Mandelson denies.
"He had me," said the terrified party worker, who didn't wish to be named for fear of a horrible, supernatural death. "He was standing there, but he wasn't in the mirror. I thought 'that's a bit weird'. The next thing his eyes were all red and evil-looking. He squeezed my throat with an invisible grip. I was fading away, my life flashed before my eyes, I saw a tunnel, a light, and Johnny Cash in a cagoule..."
In the other incident, Lord Mandelson was spotted only as he was about to take his seat on the stage after he had floated in as a cloud of invisible, odourless vapour that crept under the door of the hallway and past three lines of security checks.
Responding to concerns the Silver Bullet Occult Sensor wasn't impregnable, Moses Hunter of makers Helsing Corp Inc Ltd of Bibleville, Alabama said, "Of course it isn't fool-proof. That's the thing with these beings - you never know when or how, or indeed, in what guise or form they will strike. Lord Mandelson could easily have arrived as a bird or a bat or a piece of pizza - you just don't know what to expect. But we are adapting to new threats as soon as they emerge, while monitoring any turbulence in the sub-strata matrix and adjusting the alert levels accordingly. The public needn't worry about the Dark Lord. Mandula is our bitch."
When asked to comment, a Labour Party representative said investigations were under way, but dismissed claims Lord Mandelson is the Prince of Darkness as ludicrous nonsense, adding that he couldn't possibly comment further "because Lord Mandelson has eyes and ears everywhere."
The Business Secretary was refused entry to the conference hall as the new £50M state-of-the-art Silver Bullet occult sensor, dubbed the Bogeybuster, went off as he entered the building, sending screaming delegates running for the exits as security staff armed with crosses and garlic grenades surrounded the Lord, screaming "Get thee down, vile beast, hands behind thy horns, in the name of the Lord..."
According to witnesses, Mandelson "just stood there" with a "spooky smile on his mush" and calmly yet menacingly replied, "But I AM the Lord."
"I was shitting myself," said Deborah Grey-Tomkinson, Chairperson of Tower Hamlets Council. "At first I thought it was a suicide bomber, but then I realised it was him - the Dark One - been caught by the new ghostie thingee."
Another witness, Bob Crowe, tough-talking Bolshie General Secretary of the RMT, said he was relieved the system had worked. "I had my doubts at first - it seems a lot of money to spend on a metal detector with a hoover attached. But it's reassuring to see it can indeed be of benefit to my comrades by blocking evil capitalist monsters from influencing the democratic decisions of conference. Mandelson should be kept at bay at all costs. He's a complete cunt."
Fears were raised about the effectiveness of the new system however, as it emerged that it had failed to detect Lord Mandelson's presence on two previous occasions. In the first instance he was spotted in the gents toilet after an eagle-eyed party worker spotted he had no reflection in the mirror. He was ejected, but not until he had almost choked his spotter to death with a remote death grip - a claim Mr Mandelson denies.
"He had me," said the terrified party worker, who didn't wish to be named for fear of a horrible, supernatural death. "He was standing there, but he wasn't in the mirror. I thought 'that's a bit weird'. The next thing his eyes were all red and evil-looking. He squeezed my throat with an invisible grip. I was fading away, my life flashed before my eyes, I saw a tunnel, a light, and Johnny Cash in a cagoule..."
In the other incident, Lord Mandelson was spotted only as he was about to take his seat on the stage after he had floated in as a cloud of invisible, odourless vapour that crept under the door of the hallway and past three lines of security checks.
Responding to concerns the Silver Bullet Occult Sensor wasn't impregnable, Moses Hunter of makers Helsing Corp Inc Ltd of Bibleville, Alabama said, "Of course it isn't fool-proof. That's the thing with these beings - you never know when or how, or indeed, in what guise or form they will strike. Lord Mandelson could easily have arrived as a bird or a bat or a piece of pizza - you just don't know what to expect. But we are adapting to new threats as soon as they emerge, while monitoring any turbulence in the sub-strata matrix and adjusting the alert levels accordingly. The public needn't worry about the Dark Lord. Mandula is our bitch."
When asked to comment, a Labour Party representative said investigations were under way, but dismissed claims Lord Mandelson is the Prince of Darkness as ludicrous nonsense, adding that he couldn't possibly comment further "because Lord Mandelson has eyes and ears everywhere."
Friday 25 September 2009
New Road Found to Contain Cryptosporidium
Businesses in north west Gwynedd were left fuming following confirmation that parts of the new A499 Caernarfon to Mordor carriageway were to be dug up due to surfacing materials being contaminated with the water-borne parasite Cryptosporidium.
Confirming businesses were to endure further living hell while remedial work is carried out, Welsh Assembly Transport Minister and 'Second-in-Command at the Big House' Ieuan Wyn Jones said that unknown to his department, Gwynedd Council and contractors Carillion, agents from militant anti-road movement Wankers Against Lorries & Kars (WALK) managed to contaminate the hardcore with water stolen from nearby Dwr Cymru/Welsh Water reservoirs, using pippettes smuggled on site stuffed up their non meat-shitting vegeterian rectums.
With a stern face and a squeaky voice, Mr Jones revealed he believed it was an inside job. "Some workers were evidently working not only for contractors on the job, but also working to do a jobbie on the contract."
It's not the first time the scheme, heralded as a major engineering breakthrough due to the enormous difficulties faced while widening roads on flat, obstacle free land, has ran into controversy. In 2008, planning was delayed as a colony of an as yet unknown species of humans was found to be living in marshy ground near the village of Trefor, and three months later meerkats were found to be breeding in underground bunkers near Llanaelhaearn. Both instances were later found to be staged by campaigners opposed to "wheeled metal dragons breathing fire and smoke" onto nearby blackberry bushes.
Confirming businesses were to endure further living hell while remedial work is carried out, Welsh Assembly Transport Minister and 'Second-in-Command at the Big House' Ieuan Wyn Jones said that unknown to his department, Gwynedd Council and contractors Carillion, agents from militant anti-road movement Wankers Against Lorries & Kars (WALK) managed to contaminate the hardcore with water stolen from nearby Dwr Cymru/Welsh Water reservoirs, using pippettes smuggled on site stuffed up their non meat-shitting vegeterian rectums.
With a stern face and a squeaky voice, Mr Jones revealed he believed it was an inside job. "Some workers were evidently working not only for contractors on the job, but also working to do a jobbie on the contract."
It's not the first time the scheme, heralded as a major engineering breakthrough due to the enormous difficulties faced while widening roads on flat, obstacle free land, has ran into controversy. In 2008, planning was delayed as a colony of an as yet unknown species of humans was found to be living in marshy ground near the village of Trefor, and three months later meerkats were found to be breeding in underground bunkers near Llanaelhaearn. Both instances were later found to be staged by campaigners opposed to "wheeled metal dragons breathing fire and smoke" onto nearby blackberry bushes.
Wednesday 23 September 2009
We'll Replace Trident with Millwall Fans, Says Brown
There were rowdy exchanges in the Commons yesterday as Prime Minister Gordon Brown announced plans to scrap Trident and replace it with a new, deadlier and more cost effective deterrent.
To a shocked gallery of MPs Mr Brown outlined radical plans to utilise the Millwall Football Club hooligan element as replacement for the iconic British Trident nuclear fleet. "Due to the need for drastic cuts in Government spending we have identified new areas where savings can be made. Trident has been a cornerstone of the UK nuclear deterrent for generations and its proposed upgrade, at a cost of billions of pounds, has been a flagship policy of this government. But a recent resurgence in Millwall hooligan activity gives us another, more cost effective option."
"Millwall's hooligan element are highly efficient marauding machines. They have a ferocious reputation as violent thugs. Their small brains and simple outlook on life means they will stop at nothing to get at targets that, given a little cunning, could be conveyed to them as being of strategic value to their territorial pride. They are susceptible to any kind of bullshit. Tell them President Ahmadinejad is a fervent West Ham supporter who regularly holds Millwall shirt burning sessions on Tehran streets, or that Colonel Gadaffi funds West Ham United's Inter City Firm hooligan gang, and they'll be over there faster than a Craig Bellamy rush of blood."
As MPs on both sides rounded on the Prime Minister, a startled looking Bob Ainsworth, Secretary of State for Defence, leapt to Mr Brown's defence, but promptly sat down again as he realised he knew nothing of the plans beforehand.
After several minutes of jeering the Speaker managed to regain order and, in answer to doubts raised by Conservative MP Tarquin Letts-Tangle about the proposed costs of the plan, particularly those of training and deployment, Home Secretary David Milliband explained that these would be minimal.
"As the Prime Minister has demonstrated, these creatures are quite primitive and very open to suggestion. We don't even need a dodgy dossier. We just give them a target and they will do the rest. We tell them that kebabs are two for one in Istanbul, that North Korea is a bastion of greyhound racing, or, indeed, that Paris is the new capital of cheap, strong lager, and they will be there, pumped up on amphetamine and steroids and armed to the teeth with beer bottles. In fact, we don't even need to give them any equipment, for they are experienced in turning ordinary everyday objects into lethal weapons of mass destruction."
To a barrage of boos Mr Milliband continued. "Their deadly accuracy at coin and bottle throwing make them an excellent medium range option. They are also highly accomplished street guerillas and their hand to hand combat skills, both with sharp objects such as knives and car keys and with improvised weapons such as fence posts, concrete slabs and ripped up stadium seating, have lent them well to close quarter savagery and wanton destruction. Stick the fuckers on a plane and Moscow would be mashed-up in five hours."
Opposition parties were appalled at Mr Milliband's apparent condoning of thuggery, and a barrage of paper airplanes and rolled up spreadsheets rained down from Oppostion backbenches. After a hurried substitution from the Government Front Bench, Secretary of State for Defence Bob Ainsworth went on the attack. Full of adrenalin due to the increasing pack mentality of the Chamber, Mr Ainsworth raised the game, "Millwall's chilling chants of 'Harry Roberts is our friend, he kills coppers' have struck fear into the hearts of thousands of opposing fans at football grounds, pubs and chippies all over Britain. We must also remember that their hate-filled bigotry and inherent racism gives them the psychotic edge needed when fighting frightfully funny-looking foreign types - especially French and fucking Germans. Paris would be pulverised, Frankfurt flattened and Dresden re-destroyed - all within twenty minutes of deployment."
Though Mr Ainsworth's last comments raised the biggest cheer of the day, Lib-Dem Leader-of-sorts, Nick Clegg, accused the Minister of outright and odious racism of the most horrid kind and of the opportunistic normalization of hooliganism by incorporating such thuggish overtones into the debate. But Mr Ainsworth simply pointed at Mr Clegg and, adopting a booming baritone voice and mock Cockney accent, chanted "Who the fucking hell are you?"
Conservative Leader David Cameron, seemingly outraged at such loutish behaviour despite his Private Education background, sprang from his seat in cavalier fashion - only to lead his Front Bench in a chant of "One's going home in a ghastly ambulance!"
The House promptly descended into excactly two minutes and twenty three seconds of anarchy as Labour backbenchers threw missiles and chanted "Let's go fucking mental!" - before the Speaker lit a cigar and the sprinkler system doused the whole lot in mineral water.
A period of calm followed as Aled Jones' 'Walking on the Air' was piped through the Commons PA system, giving Gordon Brown a window of opportunity to bring the debate to a close. Preaching his oft-repeated sermon, he mustered "We shall not shirk from making difficult decisions that will enable us to get through the next thousand years of untold plague, pestilence, flatulence and misery. Tough choices have to be made, money must be saved, and hands need to get dirty if we are to get the British toilet bowl clean."
Critics of the plan later vented their anger on the streets. West Ham fans expressed deep concern they had once again been left out of the action, claiming their thugs were much better able to take on the world. Riots broke out at betting shops and off-licences all over the East End and four newspaper sellers were murdered by Metropolitan Police Officers outraged at what they had read on the front page of the Evening Handbag - while also seemingly demonstrating their credentials as leading contenders for the job of national defence and international barbarism.
In a Press Conference held in Whitehall later, Home Secretary David Milliband responded to complainants and critics alike by reassuring West Ham supporters that they would get their chance - hinting at next week's announcement regarding the deployment of more forces in Afghanistan - and stating, "Anyone who doubts the ability of Millwall fans to provide an effective deterrent to nuclear aggression should ask the families of the victims of the Kenilworth Road massacre of 1985, when hundreds were murdered by rampaging, seat throwing Millwall hooligans at the Luton Town ground. Any deterrent capable of firing off hundreds of missiles in less than a minute would make any superpower think twice about invading this shitty little island."
To a shocked gallery of MPs Mr Brown outlined radical plans to utilise the Millwall Football Club hooligan element as replacement for the iconic British Trident nuclear fleet. "Due to the need for drastic cuts in Government spending we have identified new areas where savings can be made. Trident has been a cornerstone of the UK nuclear deterrent for generations and its proposed upgrade, at a cost of billions of pounds, has been a flagship policy of this government. But a recent resurgence in Millwall hooligan activity gives us another, more cost effective option."
"Millwall's hooligan element are highly efficient marauding machines. They have a ferocious reputation as violent thugs. Their small brains and simple outlook on life means they will stop at nothing to get at targets that, given a little cunning, could be conveyed to them as being of strategic value to their territorial pride. They are susceptible to any kind of bullshit. Tell them President Ahmadinejad is a fervent West Ham supporter who regularly holds Millwall shirt burning sessions on Tehran streets, or that Colonel Gadaffi funds West Ham United's Inter City Firm hooligan gang, and they'll be over there faster than a Craig Bellamy rush of blood."
As MPs on both sides rounded on the Prime Minister, a startled looking Bob Ainsworth, Secretary of State for Defence, leapt to Mr Brown's defence, but promptly sat down again as he realised he knew nothing of the plans beforehand.
After several minutes of jeering the Speaker managed to regain order and, in answer to doubts raised by Conservative MP Tarquin Letts-Tangle about the proposed costs of the plan, particularly those of training and deployment, Home Secretary David Milliband explained that these would be minimal.
"As the Prime Minister has demonstrated, these creatures are quite primitive and very open to suggestion. We don't even need a dodgy dossier. We just give them a target and they will do the rest. We tell them that kebabs are two for one in Istanbul, that North Korea is a bastion of greyhound racing, or, indeed, that Paris is the new capital of cheap, strong lager, and they will be there, pumped up on amphetamine and steroids and armed to the teeth with beer bottles. In fact, we don't even need to give them any equipment, for they are experienced in turning ordinary everyday objects into lethal weapons of mass destruction."
To a barrage of boos Mr Milliband continued. "Their deadly accuracy at coin and bottle throwing make them an excellent medium range option. They are also highly accomplished street guerillas and their hand to hand combat skills, both with sharp objects such as knives and car keys and with improvised weapons such as fence posts, concrete slabs and ripped up stadium seating, have lent them well to close quarter savagery and wanton destruction. Stick the fuckers on a plane and Moscow would be mashed-up in five hours."
Opposition parties were appalled at Mr Milliband's apparent condoning of thuggery, and a barrage of paper airplanes and rolled up spreadsheets rained down from Oppostion backbenches. After a hurried substitution from the Government Front Bench, Secretary of State for Defence Bob Ainsworth went on the attack. Full of adrenalin due to the increasing pack mentality of the Chamber, Mr Ainsworth raised the game, "Millwall's chilling chants of 'Harry Roberts is our friend, he kills coppers' have struck fear into the hearts of thousands of opposing fans at football grounds, pubs and chippies all over Britain. We must also remember that their hate-filled bigotry and inherent racism gives them the psychotic edge needed when fighting frightfully funny-looking foreign types - especially French and fucking Germans. Paris would be pulverised, Frankfurt flattened and Dresden re-destroyed - all within twenty minutes of deployment."
Though Mr Ainsworth's last comments raised the biggest cheer of the day, Lib-Dem Leader-of-sorts, Nick Clegg, accused the Minister of outright and odious racism of the most horrid kind and of the opportunistic normalization of hooliganism by incorporating such thuggish overtones into the debate. But Mr Ainsworth simply pointed at Mr Clegg and, adopting a booming baritone voice and mock Cockney accent, chanted "Who the fucking hell are you?"
Conservative Leader David Cameron, seemingly outraged at such loutish behaviour despite his Private Education background, sprang from his seat in cavalier fashion - only to lead his Front Bench in a chant of "One's going home in a ghastly ambulance!"
The House promptly descended into excactly two minutes and twenty three seconds of anarchy as Labour backbenchers threw missiles and chanted "Let's go fucking mental!" - before the Speaker lit a cigar and the sprinkler system doused the whole lot in mineral water.
A period of calm followed as Aled Jones' 'Walking on the Air' was piped through the Commons PA system, giving Gordon Brown a window of opportunity to bring the debate to a close. Preaching his oft-repeated sermon, he mustered "We shall not shirk from making difficult decisions that will enable us to get through the next thousand years of untold plague, pestilence, flatulence and misery. Tough choices have to be made, money must be saved, and hands need to get dirty if we are to get the British toilet bowl clean."
Critics of the plan later vented their anger on the streets. West Ham fans expressed deep concern they had once again been left out of the action, claiming their thugs were much better able to take on the world. Riots broke out at betting shops and off-licences all over the East End and four newspaper sellers were murdered by Metropolitan Police Officers outraged at what they had read on the front page of the Evening Handbag - while also seemingly demonstrating their credentials as leading contenders for the job of national defence and international barbarism.
In a Press Conference held in Whitehall later, Home Secretary David Milliband responded to complainants and critics alike by reassuring West Ham supporters that they would get their chance - hinting at next week's announcement regarding the deployment of more forces in Afghanistan - and stating, "Anyone who doubts the ability of Millwall fans to provide an effective deterrent to nuclear aggression should ask the families of the victims of the Kenilworth Road massacre of 1985, when hundreds were murdered by rampaging, seat throwing Millwall hooligans at the Luton Town ground. Any deterrent capable of firing off hundreds of missiles in less than a minute would make any superpower think twice about invading this shitty little island."
Bloggers Told They're Not That Clever After All
The political blogosphere, for years considered a bastion of free speech and independent critique, was rocked today with the publication of a report that concludes that political bloggers are not that clever after all.
The damning report cites delusion, overinflated egos and a gargantuan sense of self-importance as the motivating factor behind the self-hype that facillitated the common impression that political bloggers actually knew what they were talking about.
"The opposite is quite true," said Margaret Tourniquet, Chairwoman of the panel responsible for compiling the report. "In fact, it struck us almost immediately upon reading the blog archives that over half of these weirdos were actually writing about biscuits."
"It did take us by surprise, yes," she continued, "because we all thought - as most people did - that the political blogs was where the meat was, the juicy stuff, you know, and the...erm... truth, insight and intrigue... that these cyber revolutionaries had their fingers on the pulse. But in fact, our findings show they are just pale, clammy geeks living in musty smelling bedrooms, fantasizing and writing gibberish about the virtues of Custard Creams and Penguins."
The news came as a shock to esteemed bloggers such as Sebastian Fromage (not his real name), author of renowned political analysis blog 'Jab's Eye', who had been hailed as a cyber-rottweiler and marinader of mandarins to rival Guido Fawkes' inflammable incisions. Writing on his new blog 'A Superior Insight', the smug, sanctimonious tosser claims the report is flawed and written by the 'many enemies' he has made since he started 'causing a stir' in the corridors of power with his now infamous pie-charts of MPs' dirty jokes count in the Commons Bar.
In a particularly bitchy piece he protests, "If not written by my Ministerial opponents themselves, then they managed to get to the report authors, who then wrote it under duress, the influence of hallucinogenic drugs, and the threat of buggery."
He then goes on to blame old adversary, Blofeld (of 'Spectrum' and, previously, 'GoldenEye' and 'From Preston With Love' fame), for a long and bitter hate campaign that involved smears, defamation, libelous accusations and trolling (geek-speak for the anal fingering of toy trolls in public places and posting pictures of the act on blog comment forms). Defending himself from attack in this blog war, claims Fromage, distracted him enough to cause him missing the last General Election completely. "It was politically motivated and savagely excecuted. His intention was clear, and his motives crystal. It was cold-blooded, deliberate, calculated sabotage, nothing less."
We emailed Fromage for further reaction. Asked whether he concurred with other findings in the report, such as that political bloggers are smug, sad, self-important, self-sexing, self-hyping, partisan, biggoted, blinkered know-alls who actually couldn't tell the difference between Barack Obama and Denzel Washington, Fromage accused us of being attention seeking fans and/or Blofeld's stooges, threatened to "cut us to pieces in his next blog piece", and put our address in the spam folder.
He did email us back in a few minutes to inform us he'd be publishing a prepared statement on his Facebook fan page, before offering to send us a couple of signed bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale. We declined, made our excuses and, erm, logged off.
The damning report cites delusion, overinflated egos and a gargantuan sense of self-importance as the motivating factor behind the self-hype that facillitated the common impression that political bloggers actually knew what they were talking about.
"The opposite is quite true," said Margaret Tourniquet, Chairwoman of the panel responsible for compiling the report. "In fact, it struck us almost immediately upon reading the blog archives that over half of these weirdos were actually writing about biscuits."
"It did take us by surprise, yes," she continued, "because we all thought - as most people did - that the political blogs was where the meat was, the juicy stuff, you know, and the...erm... truth, insight and intrigue... that these cyber revolutionaries had their fingers on the pulse. But in fact, our findings show they are just pale, clammy geeks living in musty smelling bedrooms, fantasizing and writing gibberish about the virtues of Custard Creams and Penguins."
The news came as a shock to esteemed bloggers such as Sebastian Fromage (not his real name), author of renowned political analysis blog 'Jab's Eye', who had been hailed as a cyber-rottweiler and marinader of mandarins to rival Guido Fawkes' inflammable incisions. Writing on his new blog 'A Superior Insight', the smug, sanctimonious tosser claims the report is flawed and written by the 'many enemies' he has made since he started 'causing a stir' in the corridors of power with his now infamous pie-charts of MPs' dirty jokes count in the Commons Bar.
In a particularly bitchy piece he protests, "If not written by my Ministerial opponents themselves, then they managed to get to the report authors, who then wrote it under duress, the influence of hallucinogenic drugs, and the threat of buggery."
He then goes on to blame old adversary, Blofeld (of 'Spectrum' and, previously, 'GoldenEye' and 'From Preston With Love' fame), for a long and bitter hate campaign that involved smears, defamation, libelous accusations and trolling (geek-speak for the anal fingering of toy trolls in public places and posting pictures of the act on blog comment forms). Defending himself from attack in this blog war, claims Fromage, distracted him enough to cause him missing the last General Election completely. "It was politically motivated and savagely excecuted. His intention was clear, and his motives crystal. It was cold-blooded, deliberate, calculated sabotage, nothing less."
We emailed Fromage for further reaction. Asked whether he concurred with other findings in the report, such as that political bloggers are smug, sad, self-important, self-sexing, self-hyping, partisan, biggoted, blinkered know-alls who actually couldn't tell the difference between Barack Obama and Denzel Washington, Fromage accused us of being attention seeking fans and/or Blofeld's stooges, threatened to "cut us to pieces in his next blog piece", and put our address in the spam folder.
He did email us back in a few minutes to inform us he'd be publishing a prepared statement on his Facebook fan page, before offering to send us a couple of signed bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale. We declined, made our excuses and, erm, logged off.
Brown to Cancel Christmas (but promises to be very nice)
Prime Minister Gordon Brown announced this morning that due to the deepening economic apocalypse 'not caused by him' Christmas will be cancelled. In a statement guaranteed to shock millions of families, the Prime Minister revealed Civil Servants had been instructed to find ways of saving public money wasted on having fun. He went on to say that local councils would have to "look to their conscience and realise the devastating harm to society frivolous expenditure on Christmas lights, extra rubbish collections, office orgies and staff binge-drinking parties was causing."
Tough choices for tough times
"We live in changing, uncertain times. People need to realise they need to make hard choices. Sacrifice is a virtue. Jesus didn't save the world by getting pissed and buying crackers. His wasn't a message of gift-giving and boob-photocopying. His was a message of stoney-faced Presbytarianism, self-flagellation and carol-singing. I call on the nation to put aside it's promiscuous dance with the dark side and do as Our Lord would wish."
Devil worship
In harsh, sinister and garbled Scottish Presbyterian rhetoric the Prime Minister compared frenzied Christmas libidiousness to a 'mass Satanic mass', adding, "Generousity becomes vulgar and perverse when councils spend God-fearing taxpayer's money on ungodly activities such as facillitating fun. Promoting a feel good factor at times of national crises is irresponsible in the extreme, particularly at a time when the public needs to be prudent in anticipation of possible unavoidable tax rises in the autumn mini-budget. That is not to say there are perfectly good and reasonable traditional Christmas celebrations families could practice in the privacy of their own homes, like the wearing of sackloth and attending church, shooting grouse and beating wrens with sticks and, of course, eating tangerines, that should still be permissable to society - though, even tangerines do come at a price. But as far as fun is concerned, it's outrageous and morally corrupt. These are hard times. There are bankers suffering as we speak."
Measures
Under strict new measures rushed in this autumn, shops will be banned from selling gifts, tinsel and Christmas pudding, turkey farmers and bauble manufacturers will be interned, and councils would be given extra powers to demolish illegal Santa's Grottos and remove decorations from shopping centres. Though, in a late concession to Lord Mandelson councils will be allowed to put up fairy lights, albeit without switching them on.
Arrests
In a move branded 'draconian' by opposition parties and civil liberties groups, local authority enforcement officers will also be given powers to dismantle what Mr Brown called "the evil" of over-the-top Christmas light displays outside council houses and arrest those responsible for "this affront to human dignity, Christian values, common sense and decency."
"These displays represent Lucifer in all his frivolous tackiness and enticing devilry. A waste of hard-earned money that would otherwise be spent on food and good causes, spiralling utility bills and council tax, petrol and VAT hikes. They are also a magnet for crime - gangs of youths are attracted like moths to a flame, drinking and swearing while throwing stones at bulbs, then making off with plastic snowmen which they sell on to the next tackily illuminated house around the corner. And so on, and so on. And some of these householders also collect money from sight seers, which is clearly defrauding the Treasury, which is a criminal act."
Disgusting
Stunned families said children were distraught. A mother from Harrow claimed her kids had barricaded themselves in the chimney in protest, refusing to come out until the bad man Brown would let Santa out of Guantanamo. Some warned of mass public disorder as militant kids mobilised. "I think it's disgusting," said Ann, a grandmother from Birmingham, while Jean from Manchester also branded the whole sorry affair 'disgusting'.
Parents Mary and Joseph, who were to star in a Christmas street pageant by homeless people and some other tramps and winos, protested that it was against the spirit of good will and charity. Joseph added, "People have worked really hard to prepare this show, we've even made angel wings out of recycled turkey foil from last Christmas. We think it's disgusting, really."
Many mothers sought re-assurance their Christmas hamper savings would be refunded, adding, "It's bloody disgusting."
Santa
Outraged Santas also responded with fury, many instisting on defying the ban and plying their trade on street corners. One Santa, who didn't wish to be named, claimed Santas would be driven underground and forced to work the black market at enormous personal risk while at the mercy of gangsters and packs of violent chavs. "It's a matter of personal dignity," he said as he showed off his newly ironed white beard.
Another Santa, from Milton Keynes, warned the Prime Minister that the loss of Christmas earnings meant he'd have to sell the family home and live in his mobile grotto with a wife and twenty eight children. "Santas provide a valuable service," he insisted, "and this is how we're repaid. It's worse than the spoilt brats who give us a sly kick or pinch when they're not happy with the reclaimed McDonalds freebies we spmetimes give them."
Many Santas warned of direct action, including a mass march on Whitehall on Christmas Eve. Erroll, a normally calm rastafarian Santa from Brixton screamed, "I'll give him fucking ho-ho-ho!"
The real and original Father Christmas, Jimmy Saville, was unavailable for comment. A spokesdwarf said he was "out of the country in a secret location nowhere near Thailand at all".
Scrooge
Opposition parties rounded on the Prime Minister, the Liberal Democrats branding him a "vampire" and "closet skinflint", while Conservative Leader David Cameron accused Brown of "writing the manual for Ebenezer Scrooge." Mr Brown responded by reminding Mr Cameron that the said manual was written by Charles Dickens, a man of prudence and social conscience, and dismissed Lib-Dems economics guru Vince Cable as "that ponce off The Mighty Boosh."
Lovely
The Prime Minister wasn't all doom and gloom however. Speaking on Too Fucking Early For Viewers this morning, Mr Brown did say he was considering a vow of loveliness in return for public understanding of the whole fucking mess the country is in. Turning to the camera, mouth convulsing like a fish doing press-ups, and smiling, he stated "I myself will go without crackers and paper hats this December 25th. I will not recieve gifts, nor will I give any other than this promise to you: I will be humble, I will be meek. I will be nice to colleagues and absolutely lovely to each and every one of this great and wonderful nation. Apart from the Scots. You know I hate them really, I only speak like this because of Taggart."
Whether or not the public will believe Mr Brown's promises remains to be seen - as is the actual programme, which was watched by a viewing figure of fuck all.
Tough choices for tough times
"We live in changing, uncertain times. People need to realise they need to make hard choices. Sacrifice is a virtue. Jesus didn't save the world by getting pissed and buying crackers. His wasn't a message of gift-giving and boob-photocopying. His was a message of stoney-faced Presbytarianism, self-flagellation and carol-singing. I call on the nation to put aside it's promiscuous dance with the dark side and do as Our Lord would wish."
Devil worship
In harsh, sinister and garbled Scottish Presbyterian rhetoric the Prime Minister compared frenzied Christmas libidiousness to a 'mass Satanic mass', adding, "Generousity becomes vulgar and perverse when councils spend God-fearing taxpayer's money on ungodly activities such as facillitating fun. Promoting a feel good factor at times of national crises is irresponsible in the extreme, particularly at a time when the public needs to be prudent in anticipation of possible unavoidable tax rises in the autumn mini-budget. That is not to say there are perfectly good and reasonable traditional Christmas celebrations families could practice in the privacy of their own homes, like the wearing of sackloth and attending church, shooting grouse and beating wrens with sticks and, of course, eating tangerines, that should still be permissable to society - though, even tangerines do come at a price. But as far as fun is concerned, it's outrageous and morally corrupt. These are hard times. There are bankers suffering as we speak."
Measures
Under strict new measures rushed in this autumn, shops will be banned from selling gifts, tinsel and Christmas pudding, turkey farmers and bauble manufacturers will be interned, and councils would be given extra powers to demolish illegal Santa's Grottos and remove decorations from shopping centres. Though, in a late concession to Lord Mandelson councils will be allowed to put up fairy lights, albeit without switching them on.
Arrests
In a move branded 'draconian' by opposition parties and civil liberties groups, local authority enforcement officers will also be given powers to dismantle what Mr Brown called "the evil" of over-the-top Christmas light displays outside council houses and arrest those responsible for "this affront to human dignity, Christian values, common sense and decency."
"These displays represent Lucifer in all his frivolous tackiness and enticing devilry. A waste of hard-earned money that would otherwise be spent on food and good causes, spiralling utility bills and council tax, petrol and VAT hikes. They are also a magnet for crime - gangs of youths are attracted like moths to a flame, drinking and swearing while throwing stones at bulbs, then making off with plastic snowmen which they sell on to the next tackily illuminated house around the corner. And so on, and so on. And some of these householders also collect money from sight seers, which is clearly defrauding the Treasury, which is a criminal act."
Disgusting
Stunned families said children were distraught. A mother from Harrow claimed her kids had barricaded themselves in the chimney in protest, refusing to come out until the bad man Brown would let Santa out of Guantanamo. Some warned of mass public disorder as militant kids mobilised. "I think it's disgusting," said Ann, a grandmother from Birmingham, while Jean from Manchester also branded the whole sorry affair 'disgusting'.
Parents Mary and Joseph, who were to star in a Christmas street pageant by homeless people and some other tramps and winos, protested that it was against the spirit of good will and charity. Joseph added, "People have worked really hard to prepare this show, we've even made angel wings out of recycled turkey foil from last Christmas. We think it's disgusting, really."
Many mothers sought re-assurance their Christmas hamper savings would be refunded, adding, "It's bloody disgusting."
Santa
Outraged Santas also responded with fury, many instisting on defying the ban and plying their trade on street corners. One Santa, who didn't wish to be named, claimed Santas would be driven underground and forced to work the black market at enormous personal risk while at the mercy of gangsters and packs of violent chavs. "It's a matter of personal dignity," he said as he showed off his newly ironed white beard.
Another Santa, from Milton Keynes, warned the Prime Minister that the loss of Christmas earnings meant he'd have to sell the family home and live in his mobile grotto with a wife and twenty eight children. "Santas provide a valuable service," he insisted, "and this is how we're repaid. It's worse than the spoilt brats who give us a sly kick or pinch when they're not happy with the reclaimed McDonalds freebies we spmetimes give them."
Many Santas warned of direct action, including a mass march on Whitehall on Christmas Eve. Erroll, a normally calm rastafarian Santa from Brixton screamed, "I'll give him fucking ho-ho-ho!"
The real and original Father Christmas, Jimmy Saville, was unavailable for comment. A spokesdwarf said he was "out of the country in a secret location nowhere near Thailand at all".
Scrooge
Opposition parties rounded on the Prime Minister, the Liberal Democrats branding him a "vampire" and "closet skinflint", while Conservative Leader David Cameron accused Brown of "writing the manual for Ebenezer Scrooge." Mr Brown responded by reminding Mr Cameron that the said manual was written by Charles Dickens, a man of prudence and social conscience, and dismissed Lib-Dems economics guru Vince Cable as "that ponce off The Mighty Boosh."
Lovely
The Prime Minister wasn't all doom and gloom however. Speaking on Too Fucking Early For Viewers this morning, Mr Brown did say he was considering a vow of loveliness in return for public understanding of the whole fucking mess the country is in. Turning to the camera, mouth convulsing like a fish doing press-ups, and smiling, he stated "I myself will go without crackers and paper hats this December 25th. I will not recieve gifts, nor will I give any other than this promise to you: I will be humble, I will be meek. I will be nice to colleagues and absolutely lovely to each and every one of this great and wonderful nation. Apart from the Scots. You know I hate them really, I only speak like this because of Taggart."
Whether or not the public will believe Mr Brown's promises remains to be seen - as is the actual programme, which was watched by a viewing figure of fuck all.
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