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.
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