Tougher measures to prevent extremists entering the UK are to be announced by Home Secretary Jacqui ‘Stabvest’ Smith as soon as they can dust the cobwebs off some semi-comatose senior civil service Mandarin and get him to cough up a few novel ideas that might withstand legal and constitutional scrutiny.
These will be designed to stop people, including so-called ‘preachers of hate’, stirring up tensions and kick-starting unscheduled riots or World War Two and a half, or an even worse cluster-fuck of Biblical proportions on the shores of Britain’s sacred green and pleasant lands.
Ms. Smith stated to the media that the right to come to Britain was a ‘privilege’ which should not be abused, and it was up to the individual concerned to prove they were loyal to the country by voting Labour and making a large donation to the party coffers.
There have been 230 people barred from entering the UK since 2005, but their identities have been revealed only when they started publicly whingeing about being excluded from a share of Britain’s social security cornucopia.
The 230 previously blocked have included neo-Nazis, Pancake Tuesday Adventists, Flat Earthers, the Minsk-based Basil Brush Holocaust Deniers Fan Club, Iranian football hooligans, Albanian swan-roasters, Mossad terrorist hi-fivers and hamster rights activists.
About 80 of them have been religious extremists who arrived at Heathrow Airport doused in gasoline and already smouldering.
The radical Muslim cleric Homer Bakri Mohammed al-Simpson was eventually banned from the UK after MI6 revealed evidence of his alleged involvement in the attempted Gunpowder Plot of 1605 to blow up the House of Parliament with co-conspirator Mohammed Guy al-Fawkes.
The then Home Secretary Charles ‘Porky’ Clarke used existing powers to exclude Mr. Mohammed as his unwashed presence and galloping halitosis were defined by Scotland Yard as "a potential biological health hazard".
Mohammed, known to friends as Mo’, was forced to fold his tent and duly deported from the UK in 2005, along with Sheikh Rashid al-Nastygit, for being what Immigration Judge Fletcher McTwat diplomatically termed ‘a pair of all-round nasty shit-stirring cunts’.
Patrick Mercer MP and Inayacht Bungusyerwallet say the proposals are another ‘gimmick’ to target anyone who goes against the British norm and stirs up anti-social behaviour by advocating violent methods to change society, which historically seemed to have worked perfectly well on domestic levels in both France and Russia.
Miss. Inayacht Bungusyerwallet is the Media Secretary for the MCB, not to be confused with Defra’s innovative Mole Counting Bureau, but the prestigious Muslim Council of Britain, whose primary purpose isn’t to determine how much Muslims pay in council tax but promote pro-Islamic propaganda.
Sir Darlston Snobbets, MP (Lab) for Dithering, introduced the ‘Barring Bill’ in Parliament earlier this month with the main intent of targeting Middle Eastern Islamic radicals coming to the UK to preach hatred and subversion to young Moslems in the madrasas.
However, opinion from the Conservative benches suggests that Snobbets, a former UK ambassador to Saudi Arabia, may have a personal axe to grind in filing this bill due his innovative Porkies Inc. hi-tech pig farming venture, based in Mecca, going tits-up bankrupt last year.
The BNP’s official news rag ‘The Xenophobe Weekly’, supported the Home Secretary’s announcement enthusiastically. BNP spokesthug Basil Bottomfeeder, a Luton-based tomcat scratcher, told the media “We’re ‘opin’ dis new law is gonna keep all de real dodgy one-eyed ‘ate-mongerin’ gits from der Middle East from comin’ ‘ere an’ preachin’ – er – ‘ate n stuff”.
Currently the number one target on the new Home Office / Immigration Top Ten shit list of ‘extremists’ is Sheikh Mohammed al Mohel, an unemployed Saudi Arabian foreskin trimmer, who has been classed by Smegmadale Community Service Officers as the local neighbourhood Anti-Christ, guilty of preaching nasty chat hate sermons in the town’s fish and chip shops.
Sheikh al-Mohel, who can trace his family bloodline back to the time of the Prophet, and holds hereditary grazing rights to every hotel lobby carpet in the Middle East, has been touring Islamic teaching centres, chippies and kebab chew n spew joints around the UK, flanked by his personal bodyguard of black-robed Tonton Macoutes.
Arrested by immigration agents at weekend, Sheikh al-Mohel is currently being detained in the high security bike shed behind Smegmadale Police Station due the Archer-Aitken Memorial Prison being full of very dodgy ex-politicians.
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Mass Annihilation of Wild Dingbat Pupils
Ninety percent of a graduating class at the exclusive St. Sodom the Dingbat boys school at Wallamaroo, Australia, have been wiped out in a retaliatory SWAT policing action while participating in a series of end of term ‘burn and pillage’ hi-jinx pranks around the sedate country town.
Up to 220 of 250 Year Twelve students at the St. Sodom the Dingbat Academy for Boys and Bruces were allegedly killed by the SWAT team, with the remaining 30 pupils suffering gunshot and shrapnel wounds plus severe burns when the SWAT team’s gunships strafed the campus with M134 Gatling fire and napalmed the school’s pole dancing club.
The trouble began at lunchtime on Monday with the start of the graduating Year Twelve student’s "muck-up day", an unofficial tradition of taking part in end-of-term pranks and other activities.
What, in years past, has been a relatively quiet affair, with a few fireworks thrown and the odd debagging or vomiting incident after a spot too much absinthe, this year’s muck-up day quickly evolved into a Viking-style rampage from the college gates into the centre of Wallamaroo.
There the police station was levelled with satchel charges and the local supermarket gutted of every available alcoholic beverage, with the shift manager crucified against the DIY counter.
The packs of marauding students were led by Trev’ Anaconda, eldest ranga son of feared Melbourne drug baron Bluey Anaconda, who is currently serving nine consecutive life sentences for biting the heads off DEA officers and being an all round nasty twat.
The students, aged 17 and 18, kicked off on the school campus with a crack coke and fermented kangaroo piss chasers session then took umbrage with the Dean of College when he tried to intervene and reproached their bawdy behaviour as unbecoming after they stripped to their birthday suits and daubed themselves with fresh blood siphoned off the school’s platypus mascot, Blinkie.
After the Dean had been hung, drawn and quartered, and his intestines stretched out and fed to the school’s dingo pack, the students looted the school armoury of it’s automatic weapons arsenal and proceeded into Wallamaroo, petrol-bombing the newly-renovated Balaclava Heights railway station as they passed.
The students’ behaviour was described by SWAT team leader Bruce Pigsticker as wholly unacceptable for an end-of-term display of antics and pranks.
“I blame it all on these Playstation and X-Box games. Too much gratuitous violence available in the home environment for youngsters in my opinion."
"They need to see the results of their aggressive fantasies up close and personal like I did when I was a young copper. Three years in the vice squad as a tunnel rat in Sydney, now that was an eye-opener. We had a set quota to bring in the bollocks of at least ten Greek and Maltese pimps and drug dealers a week". Now that was character-building".
The end of term exams, due to begin next week for the Year Twelve students, (who are reputed to pay lots and lots of money in fees annually to attend the Roman Catholic asylum) have been cancelled owing to a lack of live pupils.
The funerals will take place on Tuesday, with the dead students being interred in a mass grave currently undergoing excavation behind the charred remains of the cricket pavilion. Friends and relatives only. No flowers.
Up to 220 of 250 Year Twelve students at the St. Sodom the Dingbat Academy for Boys and Bruces were allegedly killed by the SWAT team, with the remaining 30 pupils suffering gunshot and shrapnel wounds plus severe burns when the SWAT team’s gunships strafed the campus with M134 Gatling fire and napalmed the school’s pole dancing club.
The trouble began at lunchtime on Monday with the start of the graduating Year Twelve student’s "muck-up day", an unofficial tradition of taking part in end-of-term pranks and other activities.
What, in years past, has been a relatively quiet affair, with a few fireworks thrown and the odd debagging or vomiting incident after a spot too much absinthe, this year’s muck-up day quickly evolved into a Viking-style rampage from the college gates into the centre of Wallamaroo.
There the police station was levelled with satchel charges and the local supermarket gutted of every available alcoholic beverage, with the shift manager crucified against the DIY counter.
The packs of marauding students were led by Trev’ Anaconda, eldest ranga son of feared Melbourne drug baron Bluey Anaconda, who is currently serving nine consecutive life sentences for biting the heads off DEA officers and being an all round nasty twat.
The students, aged 17 and 18, kicked off on the school campus with a crack coke and fermented kangaroo piss chasers session then took umbrage with the Dean of College when he tried to intervene and reproached their bawdy behaviour as unbecoming after they stripped to their birthday suits and daubed themselves with fresh blood siphoned off the school’s platypus mascot, Blinkie.
After the Dean had been hung, drawn and quartered, and his intestines stretched out and fed to the school’s dingo pack, the students looted the school armoury of it’s automatic weapons arsenal and proceeded into Wallamaroo, petrol-bombing the newly-renovated Balaclava Heights railway station as they passed.
The students’ behaviour was described by SWAT team leader Bruce Pigsticker as wholly unacceptable for an end-of-term display of antics and pranks.
“I blame it all on these Playstation and X-Box games. Too much gratuitous violence available in the home environment for youngsters in my opinion."
"They need to see the results of their aggressive fantasies up close and personal like I did when I was a young copper. Three years in the vice squad as a tunnel rat in Sydney, now that was an eye-opener. We had a set quota to bring in the bollocks of at least ten Greek and Maltese pimps and drug dealers a week". Now that was character-building".
The end of term exams, due to begin next week for the Year Twelve students, (who are reputed to pay lots and lots of money in fees annually to attend the Roman Catholic asylum) have been cancelled owing to a lack of live pupils.
The funerals will take place on Tuesday, with the dead students being interred in a mass grave currently undergoing excavation behind the charred remains of the cricket pavilion. Friends and relatives only. No flowers.
Friday, 24 October 2008
British Courts Despair at EU Extradition Requests
The number of asinine extradition cases being dealt with in UK courts has reached record levels, fuelled by the number of ‘trivial’ requests from around the World that have pissed police authorities right off and clogged up an already pathetic and dawdling legal system.
Up to 6,000 extradition cases are expected to have been dealt with by the end of 2008, more than double the number last year, four times the number in 2006, ten times the number in 1998 and eight thousand, two hundred and forty-four times the number in 1583, according to figures from Smegmadale magistrates court, which handles all extradition hearings after the pubs close. (excluding Sundays and Bank Holidays)
The huge increase is largely down to the volume of European arrest warrants (EAWs) being issued by the old brain-dead ex-Soviet bloc states, with Poland, Lithuania and Bulgaria topping the list.
EAWs, requiring the arrest and extradition of suspects from one EU country to another, are being used by Poland for a “large volume of frivolous extradition requests", according to Detective Sergeant Gary Clunt of Smegmadale’s Extradition Unit.
He estimated that 40% of all extradition cases dealt with originated from former Russian satellite nations, adding that many of the offences were so minor they would lead to either a slap round the head with a dead kipper or a community service order of having to stand in the corner all weekend in England and Wales; and perhaps a more severe penalty of twenty lashes followed by tar and feathering under Scotland’s austere and draconian laws.
In one recent instance a Cracow carpenter who fitted wardrobe doors and then removed them when the client (police chief Rotta Shitzwanker) failed to pay him, was subject to an extradition request by Poland so that they could try him for ‘theft’. The extradition was refused when the Smegmadale District Judge, Ephriam Gluttocks, decided the removal of the doors couldn’t be classified as a simple open and shut case.
In another incident the Polish authorities filed for the extradition of a suspect for theft of a supermarket tinned dessert. "The European arrest warrant contained a list of the supposed ingredients and looked rather tasty until I tried one and found it was all sawdust and rhubarb”, Sergeant Clunt told reporters. “I was shitting firewood for a week after".
Following in Poland’s footsteps for barmy requests is Lithuania, one of whose nationals was extradited in August on a charge of ‘piglet-rustling’, which carries a maximum death penalty sentence in their own medieval courts. Apparently this was a first offence and the nine-year old accused schoolboy was treated with leniency and bound over to stay away from bacon for six months.
According to Sergeant Clunt the volume of cases from ex-Soviet bloc countries has forced the Smegmadale extradition court to start chartering extra transport to return suspects to Poland and Lithuania. "We now arrange for a couple of Poland’s ‘Cracow Cruiser’ bendy buses twice a week”, Clunt informed the press.
But while potty Poland is not the only culprit, it has been, to date, the origin of the most numerous and idiotic requests by far. France came a close second in March when it filed an extradition order against the infamous Marseille serial snail strangler who had fled to Britain to evade capture.
Switzerland filed an curious yet absurd oddity in April for a fugitive cuckoo molester from the alpine clock-making town of Tock, just being beaten to the winning post in the silly ratings by Denmark, who filed the notoriously-laughable request against Jurgen Pilluk, wanted by Copenhagen police for unscrewing and filching the nipples of the celebrated Little Mermaid bronze statue at Langelinie during low tide.
Need a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ Card? Buy a Polish Monopoly game.
Up to 6,000 extradition cases are expected to have been dealt with by the end of 2008, more than double the number last year, four times the number in 2006, ten times the number in 1998 and eight thousand, two hundred and forty-four times the number in 1583, according to figures from Smegmadale magistrates court, which handles all extradition hearings after the pubs close. (excluding Sundays and Bank Holidays)
The huge increase is largely down to the volume of European arrest warrants (EAWs) being issued by the old brain-dead ex-Soviet bloc states, with Poland, Lithuania and Bulgaria topping the list.
EAWs, requiring the arrest and extradition of suspects from one EU country to another, are being used by Poland for a “large volume of frivolous extradition requests", according to Detective Sergeant Gary Clunt of Smegmadale’s Extradition Unit.
He estimated that 40% of all extradition cases dealt with originated from former Russian satellite nations, adding that many of the offences were so minor they would lead to either a slap round the head with a dead kipper or a community service order of having to stand in the corner all weekend in England and Wales; and perhaps a more severe penalty of twenty lashes followed by tar and feathering under Scotland’s austere and draconian laws.
In one recent instance a Cracow carpenter who fitted wardrobe doors and then removed them when the client (police chief Rotta Shitzwanker) failed to pay him, was subject to an extradition request by Poland so that they could try him for ‘theft’. The extradition was refused when the Smegmadale District Judge, Ephriam Gluttocks, decided the removal of the doors couldn’t be classified as a simple open and shut case.
In another incident the Polish authorities filed for the extradition of a suspect for theft of a supermarket tinned dessert. "The European arrest warrant contained a list of the supposed ingredients and looked rather tasty until I tried one and found it was all sawdust and rhubarb”, Sergeant Clunt told reporters. “I was shitting firewood for a week after".
Following in Poland’s footsteps for barmy requests is Lithuania, one of whose nationals was extradited in August on a charge of ‘piglet-rustling’, which carries a maximum death penalty sentence in their own medieval courts. Apparently this was a first offence and the nine-year old accused schoolboy was treated with leniency and bound over to stay away from bacon for six months.
According to Sergeant Clunt the volume of cases from ex-Soviet bloc countries has forced the Smegmadale extradition court to start chartering extra transport to return suspects to Poland and Lithuania. "We now arrange for a couple of Poland’s ‘Cracow Cruiser’ bendy buses twice a week”, Clunt informed the press.
But while potty Poland is not the only culprit, it has been, to date, the origin of the most numerous and idiotic requests by far. France came a close second in March when it filed an extradition order against the infamous Marseille serial snail strangler who had fled to Britain to evade capture.
Switzerland filed an curious yet absurd oddity in April for a fugitive cuckoo molester from the alpine clock-making town of Tock, just being beaten to the winning post in the silly ratings by Denmark, who filed the notoriously-laughable request against Jurgen Pilluk, wanted by Copenhagen police for unscrewing and filching the nipples of the celebrated Little Mermaid bronze statue at Langelinie during low tide.
Need a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ Card? Buy a Polish Monopoly game.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
US and UK to Disband Military Forces
In a shock and awe statement to the press this morning President Brush, accompanied at the podium by UK Sub-Prime Minister Gordon Brown, declared that the two countries had mutually agreed to disband their respective military forces forthwith.
Citing the reasons for their actions Brown explained that due the current credit crunch and galloping recession, the US and UK could no longer afford to maintain their military machines and fight multiple wars on a global battlefront.
“It’s so much cheaper now to turn the entire thing over to privatised military contractors and let them get on with it”, Brown told the media.
“They simply invoice us at the end of every month for the costs of whatever war they’ve started and we meet those charges with a rise in fuel, booze and tobacco duties”.
“Obviously we’ll hold an annual oversight audit to make sure they keep their activities centred around the Third World, so none of the contractors get carried away and invade somewhere entirely inappropriate, like Switzerland or the Vatican state, solely as an excuse for a spot of remunerative pillaging and looting.”
With the doors of free market enterprise for RentaWar now being thrown open to all and sundry, the major established private military contractors (PMC’s) such as Aegis, Sandline and Blackwanker Security, who have in the past made a killing (sic) from their participation in the joint US/UK illegal wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and elsewhere, will now face tough opposition when tendering bids for the next upcoming conflicts as various UK High Street retail giants plan to climb on the bandwagon.
The PMC’s experienced military intelligence operatives have, to date, possessed the requisite knowledge to second guess where and when Mossad’s zionist loonies were likely to pull another 9/11 or 7/7 stint, or detonate one more Bali-style micro-nuke to kick start their next false flag operation with a bang major and force-feed the desired conflagration, such as the hoped-for invasion of Iran or possibly World War III. With that prior knowledge they had a permanent pre-emptive foot under the lid of Pandora’s box.
Now, however, they must face a home front of stiff, albeit amateur, competition, all vying for their fair share of the blood and guts market. Ratsco Extra and Dinglebury’s today launched a joint recruitment campaign, signing up every Tom, Dick and Harry, or Harriet, who had read an Andy McNob or Chris Ryan novel, as mercenary troops for their newly-formed Wars-R-Us retail military agency.
Barry Headbanger, a former Mothercare bouncer, now the official spokesman for Ratsco Extra’s ‘War’ division, told reporters “It’s a huge potential world-wide market for conflicts and we want our share of the blood spilling. Anybody signing up for a tour of overseas active service at one of our branches this morning automatically earns a thousand points on their in-store loyalty card and gets a free hi-viz stab jacket.”
General Sir Digby Fernsworth-Twat, Commander of the Allied Forces / Afghanistan, speaking on conditions of anonymity in Bellend Province, was interviewed today by Lenny Crunt, of Body Bags Weekly Review, concerning this morning’s official announcement.
“What a splendid all-round strategy. Now the Taliban can form their own PMC agency and sign up to fight each other. We can arrange a turn-key basis contract with them so they only get paid on their body counts. That should provide an incentive for shooting each other, what ho”.
Citing the reasons for their actions Brown explained that due the current credit crunch and galloping recession, the US and UK could no longer afford to maintain their military machines and fight multiple wars on a global battlefront.
“It’s so much cheaper now to turn the entire thing over to privatised military contractors and let them get on with it”, Brown told the media.
“They simply invoice us at the end of every month for the costs of whatever war they’ve started and we meet those charges with a rise in fuel, booze and tobacco duties”.
“Obviously we’ll hold an annual oversight audit to make sure they keep their activities centred around the Third World, so none of the contractors get carried away and invade somewhere entirely inappropriate, like Switzerland or the Vatican state, solely as an excuse for a spot of remunerative pillaging and looting.”
With the doors of free market enterprise for RentaWar now being thrown open to all and sundry, the major established private military contractors (PMC’s) such as Aegis, Sandline and Blackwanker Security, who have in the past made a killing (sic) from their participation in the joint US/UK illegal wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and elsewhere, will now face tough opposition when tendering bids for the next upcoming conflicts as various UK High Street retail giants plan to climb on the bandwagon.
The PMC’s experienced military intelligence operatives have, to date, possessed the requisite knowledge to second guess where and when Mossad’s zionist loonies were likely to pull another 9/11 or 7/7 stint, or detonate one more Bali-style micro-nuke to kick start their next false flag operation with a bang major and force-feed the desired conflagration, such as the hoped-for invasion of Iran or possibly World War III. With that prior knowledge they had a permanent pre-emptive foot under the lid of Pandora’s box.
Now, however, they must face a home front of stiff, albeit amateur, competition, all vying for their fair share of the blood and guts market. Ratsco Extra and Dinglebury’s today launched a joint recruitment campaign, signing up every Tom, Dick and Harry, or Harriet, who had read an Andy McNob or Chris Ryan novel, as mercenary troops for their newly-formed Wars-R-Us retail military agency.
Barry Headbanger, a former Mothercare bouncer, now the official spokesman for Ratsco Extra’s ‘War’ division, told reporters “It’s a huge potential world-wide market for conflicts and we want our share of the blood spilling. Anybody signing up for a tour of overseas active service at one of our branches this morning automatically earns a thousand points on their in-store loyalty card and gets a free hi-viz stab jacket.”
General Sir Digby Fernsworth-Twat, Commander of the Allied Forces / Afghanistan, speaking on conditions of anonymity in Bellend Province, was interviewed today by Lenny Crunt, of Body Bags Weekly Review, concerning this morning’s official announcement.
“What a splendid all-round strategy. Now the Taliban can form their own PMC agency and sign up to fight each other. We can arrange a turn-key basis contract with them so they only get paid on their body counts. That should provide an incentive for shooting each other, what ho”.
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Cringe Factor Judge Overcome by Truth
Simon Cowell, the controversial resident slimeball judge on TV’s American Idol and the X-Factor, was rushed to Smegmadale-on-Sea’s prestigious Harold Shipman Clinic for Medical Excellence in the early hours of this morning after suffering convulsions and going into shock.
Cowell underwent emergency exploratory surgery to determine the cause of his attack and while doctors announced his prognosis is ‘fair to good’ they further stated he could, hopefully, suffer a relapse at any time.
Ms. Ivana Slagsky, a Ukranian Dominatrix who was with Cowell at the time of his attack, told the media “We were into a spot of FemDom and I was flicking his pathetic flaccid genitalia with my riding crop, then decided to be really cruel and switched the TV channel to the X-Factor and made him watch it.”
“The next thing he looses a horrible shriek, throws up his oyster flambee supper and has a fit. I had to put the boot in several times to quieten him down”.
“I think the shock of watching himself on television brought on the attack, when faced with the truth of what a tosspot and a walking abortion he really is”.
Dr. Clayton Mingepiece told reporters “During surgery we discovered Cowell’s brain has shrunk to the size of a stoat’s prostate gland and his skull was full of festering excrement, which often occurs with celebrities when ego surpasses intellect and the shock of self-realisation hits them. Just look at Sharon Osbourne, totally brain dead. Take Posh Beckham, a perfect walking example of a celebrity zombie. Nice tits and a head full of diarrhoea. IQ zero”.
Cowell, who started his stage career as the arse-end of a pantomime donkey, has become known in entertainment circles as ‘a right nasty orange cunt’, and was voted last year as the showbiz personality most women would like to piss on from a dizzy height, and the one most men would prefer not to, even if he was on fire.
Perhaps best known for his signature phrase “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re an utter useless twat”, Cowell studied the mean and spiteful showplace tactics of other famously nasty entertainment personalities such as Judge Judy, Klaus Barbie and the Weakest Wanks quizmaster Anne Robinson.
But with an annual income exceeding US$ 50 million (£14:28p at current forex rates) the 93-year old Cowell can afford to be as insulting as he likes, often leaving his show’s contestants in tears due his offensive comments on their lack of talent and even physical appearances. It has never, until now, seemed to occur, or matter, to the Brighton-born sociopath that he looks like a bag of shit tied in the middle and has the personality of a Turkish caravan site.
While admitting to Daily Sport correspondent Willie Wagrat earlier this year that he regularly undergoes Botox treatments and gets weekly burned orange suntan spray jobs, he vehemently denied he takes it up the rear passage with other men, and only occasionally from his personal Dominatrix’ nine inch strapon.
Fellow X-Factor judge, the equally-nasty Pierced Moron, told reporters "Get well, or worse, cards, and flowers, may be delivered to the clinic's reception desk. No nettles, thistles, poison ivy or deadly nightshade, please".
Cowell underwent emergency exploratory surgery to determine the cause of his attack and while doctors announced his prognosis is ‘fair to good’ they further stated he could, hopefully, suffer a relapse at any time.
Ms. Ivana Slagsky, a Ukranian Dominatrix who was with Cowell at the time of his attack, told the media “We were into a spot of FemDom and I was flicking his pathetic flaccid genitalia with my riding crop, then decided to be really cruel and switched the TV channel to the X-Factor and made him watch it.”
“The next thing he looses a horrible shriek, throws up his oyster flambee supper and has a fit. I had to put the boot in several times to quieten him down”.
“I think the shock of watching himself on television brought on the attack, when faced with the truth of what a tosspot and a walking abortion he really is”.
Dr. Clayton Mingepiece told reporters “During surgery we discovered Cowell’s brain has shrunk to the size of a stoat’s prostate gland and his skull was full of festering excrement, which often occurs with celebrities when ego surpasses intellect and the shock of self-realisation hits them. Just look at Sharon Osbourne, totally brain dead. Take Posh Beckham, a perfect walking example of a celebrity zombie. Nice tits and a head full of diarrhoea. IQ zero”.
Cowell, who started his stage career as the arse-end of a pantomime donkey, has become known in entertainment circles as ‘a right nasty orange cunt’, and was voted last year as the showbiz personality most women would like to piss on from a dizzy height, and the one most men would prefer not to, even if he was on fire.
Perhaps best known for his signature phrase “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re an utter useless twat”, Cowell studied the mean and spiteful showplace tactics of other famously nasty entertainment personalities such as Judge Judy, Klaus Barbie and the Weakest Wanks quizmaster Anne Robinson.
But with an annual income exceeding US$ 50 million (£14:28p at current forex rates) the 93-year old Cowell can afford to be as insulting as he likes, often leaving his show’s contestants in tears due his offensive comments on their lack of talent and even physical appearances. It has never, until now, seemed to occur, or matter, to the Brighton-born sociopath that he looks like a bag of shit tied in the middle and has the personality of a Turkish caravan site.
While admitting to Daily Sport correspondent Willie Wagrat earlier this year that he regularly undergoes Botox treatments and gets weekly burned orange suntan spray jobs, he vehemently denied he takes it up the rear passage with other men, and only occasionally from his personal Dominatrix’ nine inch strapon.
Fellow X-Factor judge, the equally-nasty Pierced Moron, told reporters "Get well, or worse, cards, and flowers, may be delivered to the clinic's reception desk. No nettles, thistles, poison ivy or deadly nightshade, please".
Arthur Pewty now an ex-Crime Kingpin
Reputed gangster and organised crime boss Arthur J. Pewty, a shop worn and rather threadbare former Monty Python sketch character (1969: series 1 / Episode 2) was today found dead at his Neasden flat in Norman Wisdom Tower Village. Yes dead, really dead, at long fucking last.
Police forensics officers investigating the death are not ruling out fowl play as it appears he was beaten to death with a blood-stained rubber chicken that was rammed up his rectum post mortem : beak first.
Rumours abound that Pewty was targeted for a gangland hit in retaliation for encroaching on the Smegmadale Cartel’s drug turf.
However, police intelligence sources claim the murder bears the classic trademark of a serial killer known to stalk online satire news sites, bumping off resurrected fictional comedy characters who are long past their sell-by dates and keep popping up on front pages when they should be gathering dust in the archives.
Police detectives are studying CCTV footage, recorded in the hours prior to Pewty’s death, showing someone dressed in a suit of medieval armour and carrying a rubber chicken over his shoulder, entering the deceased’s block of flats.
Pewty’s next door neighbour, Alice Slagrat, told reporters he wasn’t a happy man and had been receiving medical treatment for depression since Deidre, his long-term spouse, cuckolded him and took off for a new life in South Ossetia with their iffy marriage guidance counsellor, Eric Idletwat.
“’e woz pinin’ for somethin’, but I’m fucked if I knows wot. The fiords maybe, or just ‘avin’ Deirdre back so ‘e could double-tap ‘er”.
Neasden Community Service officer Wilton Minge informed the press “Hopefully that’s the last we’ve seen, or heard, of the annoying little twat on The Spoof’s front page, or elsewhere, unless he pulls a fuckin’ Lazarus and pops up again in a Celebrity Diary section”.
Patrons of the local Fighting Dog and Pikey pub remember Pewty for his hilarious Michael Palin impersonations, dressed in a grubby off-white flasher’s mack’, trying to sell a dead parrot to the landlord, Elsie Kray, and singing songs about a popular brand of luncheon meat.
Funeral to be held at Neaden sewerage works, Wednesday 10:30am. No flowers.
Police forensics officers investigating the death are not ruling out fowl play as it appears he was beaten to death with a blood-stained rubber chicken that was rammed up his rectum post mortem : beak first.
Rumours abound that Pewty was targeted for a gangland hit in retaliation for encroaching on the Smegmadale Cartel’s drug turf.
However, police intelligence sources claim the murder bears the classic trademark of a serial killer known to stalk online satire news sites, bumping off resurrected fictional comedy characters who are long past their sell-by dates and keep popping up on front pages when they should be gathering dust in the archives.
Police detectives are studying CCTV footage, recorded in the hours prior to Pewty’s death, showing someone dressed in a suit of medieval armour and carrying a rubber chicken over his shoulder, entering the deceased’s block of flats.
Pewty’s next door neighbour, Alice Slagrat, told reporters he wasn’t a happy man and had been receiving medical treatment for depression since Deidre, his long-term spouse, cuckolded him and took off for a new life in South Ossetia with their iffy marriage guidance counsellor, Eric Idletwat.
“’e woz pinin’ for somethin’, but I’m fucked if I knows wot. The fiords maybe, or just ‘avin’ Deirdre back so ‘e could double-tap ‘er”.
Neasden Community Service officer Wilton Minge informed the press “Hopefully that’s the last we’ve seen, or heard, of the annoying little twat on The Spoof’s front page, or elsewhere, unless he pulls a fuckin’ Lazarus and pops up again in a Celebrity Diary section”.
Patrons of the local Fighting Dog and Pikey pub remember Pewty for his hilarious Michael Palin impersonations, dressed in a grubby off-white flasher’s mack’, trying to sell a dead parrot to the landlord, Elsie Kray, and singing songs about a popular brand of luncheon meat.
Funeral to be held at Neaden sewerage works, Wednesday 10:30am. No flowers.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Impeachment Case no. 652 filed against Philippines' President Gloria Arroyo
Opposition groups in the Republic of the Philistines have yet again filed their regular weekly impeachment complaint against President Gloria Buwaya Arroyo, but admitted to the media they still have more chance of shoving butter up a porcupine’s arse with a red hot knitting needle than achieving their sworn objective.
Arroyo has fended off impeachment complaints like a Jedi Knight wielding a light sabre over the past three years due her domination of the Casa sa Magnanakaw (House of Representatives).
The complaint accuses Arroyo of corruption, extra-judicial killings, torture, lacking a sense of humour, aggravated halitosis, witchcraft, hoarding kippers in her knickers and illegal arrests, mainly in keeping with the inherited political tactics and strategies of her late ex-president father.
Opposition congressman Ronnie Baboy Zamora said of the complaint: "I haven't seen much interest from other congressmen apart from keeping their heads down to avoid a bullet with their name on. They also fear she might put a curse on them too. Just look at that third nipple on her left cheek : definitely the mark of Satan on the face of his evil witch concubine”.
But in a nation renown for political corruption existing and thriving at all levels of government it is little wonder they fear getting snuffed if they so much dare to rattle the bars of their gilded cages and challenge the purpose or edicts of the ruling elite.
Arroyo’s domination of Congress sprouts from knowing where all the skeletons are buried, and too, those still rattling round in closets and wardrobes. While many of them were interred by her own obedient military henchmen, quite a few met their demise during the reign of her late father, ex-president Diosdado Tarantado Macapagal; who was eventually stricken by a constipated conscience and chewed his own head off after a series of haunting dreams where he was visited by the ghost of Harry Stonehill.
It is speculated by Manila’s cynical media hacks that members of the congress and senate are so crooked and bent that if they dropped down dead ‘en mass’ there would be no need to dig a hole to bury them, but simply wind them into the ground like corkscrews.
Current foreign opinion polls say Arroyo is now the most unpopular Philippine president since the last most unpopular president, who happened to be the porcine charismatic clot and vaudeville clown Joseph Estrada, colloquially known by the hilarious sobriquet of Senor Tulu Nangangaliwa.
Arroyo pardoned the deposed Estrada in October 2007, paving the way for his release a month after he was sentenced to life in prison for massive corruption, economic plunder, and being a thorough all-round crooked twat.
While Arroyo is supported by a sycophant army and a boot-licking paramilitary national police force, and too the parasitic and powerful Catholic Church, her term in office expires in 2010 and she is not eligible to seek re-election.
Unless, of course, she pulls a ‘Ferdinand Marcos’ stunt and declares martial law on the eve of elections, imprisoning the opposition candidates on charges of terrorism (or perhaps, ironically, corruption).
Analysts speculate that political heavyweights are unlikely to join any bid to have her removed by impeachment, preferring to conserve their energies, and necks, for the 2010 election campaign so they might get their turn on the infamous Pulos ng Pagnanakaw gravy train through electoral campaigns of empty promises and blatant lies, perpetuating the big C-N combination : (no, not Chicken Nuggets) Corruption and Nepotism.
Senator Salazar Corruptioni, ex-president of the national airlines carrier PAL (Philippines Always Late) and leader of the minority Kapalmuks opposition party, told reporters he had seen ‘better organised riots’ than the current performance of Arroyo’s administration.
Arroyo’s husband Mike, affectionately known around Manila as ‘Boyet Buwisit’, has managed to embroil his President wife in a series of further corruption scandals through his own mendacious business dealings and influence-peddling.
Prominent elder statesman, Senator Utang na Loob, told reporters he personally would back the popular post-menopausal sociopath Senator Miriam Defenceless Santigago, aka Senora Balatkayo, for his party’s presidential candidate in 2010 on a ‘Winds of Change’ ticket.
With the Manila-based Social Weather Station (SWS) reporting that some 3.3 million families experienced not having anything to eat on several occasions since Arroyo took power, a Wind of Change (positive variety) might be a definite improvement to ease their daily privations.
In a country burdened by a culture of corruption and the promotion and perpetuation of superstition by the influential Catholic church, the prime national exports have evolved to mail order brides and housemaids for the Western global market, with slave labour the number one export commodity for the cruel and intolerant Middle Eastern Arab states that stake their futures on the fugacious black oleaginous lubricant that is pumped from the bowels of their foul desert lands.
Cursed by the IMF, the World Bank and their own Oriental speciality-brewed affliction and yoke : the Asian Development Bank, whose sole purpose, from its inception, was to develop ‘DEBT’ and demand, through the sinister guises of ‘Conditionality’ and ‘Good Governance’, that structural adjustment policies be implemented to enforce the foreign privatisation of the Philippines’ nationalised utilities and natural resources.
Evolving the government system from one of a blatantly counterfeit Democracy to an actual ‘Corporatocracy’, a ‘quid pro quo’ for keeping the Spanish and Chinese oligarchy’s arses in a state of guaranteed perpetuity, has been the sole purpose of every elected president since Manuel Quezon.
Gloria has continued to perpetuate this policy on behalf of her shadowy western Zionist banking Masters, maximising profits for foreign corporations, regardless of the social and environmental costs. This has further created a condition of debt-obligated materialism throughout the nation, wherein even religious purpose and individual spirituality are compromised at all levels of society.
But the cost of control is the cost of the soul. Such is the tax on the wages of sin, as Gloria will eventually learn to her eternal cost.
Pity the proletariat population of such a beautiful multi-island nation whose guaranteed annual stipend of typhoons is further blighted with earthquakes, tsunamis, floods (and droughts), volcanoes, landslides, Islamic terrorists / Moro separatists, and a Communist New Peoples’ Army.
Only a cruel and capricious God could further saddle and curse them with a government whose corruption defies description and is administered by political agents of self-interest.
Ay nako, Mang Pinoy, if it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any. “Hoy! Gising naman!”
Arroyo has fended off impeachment complaints like a Jedi Knight wielding a light sabre over the past three years due her domination of the Casa sa Magnanakaw (House of Representatives).
The complaint accuses Arroyo of corruption, extra-judicial killings, torture, lacking a sense of humour, aggravated halitosis, witchcraft, hoarding kippers in her knickers and illegal arrests, mainly in keeping with the inherited political tactics and strategies of her late ex-president father.
Opposition congressman Ronnie Baboy Zamora said of the complaint: "I haven't seen much interest from other congressmen apart from keeping their heads down to avoid a bullet with their name on. They also fear she might put a curse on them too. Just look at that third nipple on her left cheek : definitely the mark of Satan on the face of his evil witch concubine”.
But in a nation renown for political corruption existing and thriving at all levels of government it is little wonder they fear getting snuffed if they so much dare to rattle the bars of their gilded cages and challenge the purpose or edicts of the ruling elite.
Arroyo’s domination of Congress sprouts from knowing where all the skeletons are buried, and too, those still rattling round in closets and wardrobes. While many of them were interred by her own obedient military henchmen, quite a few met their demise during the reign of her late father, ex-president Diosdado Tarantado Macapagal; who was eventually stricken by a constipated conscience and chewed his own head off after a series of haunting dreams where he was visited by the ghost of Harry Stonehill.
It is speculated by Manila’s cynical media hacks that members of the congress and senate are so crooked and bent that if they dropped down dead ‘en mass’ there would be no need to dig a hole to bury them, but simply wind them into the ground like corkscrews.
Current foreign opinion polls say Arroyo is now the most unpopular Philippine president since the last most unpopular president, who happened to be the porcine charismatic clot and vaudeville clown Joseph Estrada, colloquially known by the hilarious sobriquet of Senor Tulu Nangangaliwa.
Arroyo pardoned the deposed Estrada in October 2007, paving the way for his release a month after he was sentenced to life in prison for massive corruption, economic plunder, and being a thorough all-round crooked twat.
While Arroyo is supported by a sycophant army and a boot-licking paramilitary national police force, and too the parasitic and powerful Catholic Church, her term in office expires in 2010 and she is not eligible to seek re-election.
Unless, of course, she pulls a ‘Ferdinand Marcos’ stunt and declares martial law on the eve of elections, imprisoning the opposition candidates on charges of terrorism (or perhaps, ironically, corruption).
Analysts speculate that political heavyweights are unlikely to join any bid to have her removed by impeachment, preferring to conserve their energies, and necks, for the 2010 election campaign so they might get their turn on the infamous Pulos ng Pagnanakaw gravy train through electoral campaigns of empty promises and blatant lies, perpetuating the big C-N combination : (no, not Chicken Nuggets) Corruption and Nepotism.
Senator Salazar Corruptioni, ex-president of the national airlines carrier PAL (Philippines Always Late) and leader of the minority Kapalmuks opposition party, told reporters he had seen ‘better organised riots’ than the current performance of Arroyo’s administration.
Arroyo’s husband Mike, affectionately known around Manila as ‘Boyet Buwisit’, has managed to embroil his President wife in a series of further corruption scandals through his own mendacious business dealings and influence-peddling.
Prominent elder statesman, Senator Utang na Loob, told reporters he personally would back the popular post-menopausal sociopath Senator Miriam Defenceless Santigago, aka Senora Balatkayo, for his party’s presidential candidate in 2010 on a ‘Winds of Change’ ticket.
With the Manila-based Social Weather Station (SWS) reporting that some 3.3 million families experienced not having anything to eat on several occasions since Arroyo took power, a Wind of Change (positive variety) might be a definite improvement to ease their daily privations.
In a country burdened by a culture of corruption and the promotion and perpetuation of superstition by the influential Catholic church, the prime national exports have evolved to mail order brides and housemaids for the Western global market, with slave labour the number one export commodity for the cruel and intolerant Middle Eastern Arab states that stake their futures on the fugacious black oleaginous lubricant that is pumped from the bowels of their foul desert lands.
Cursed by the IMF, the World Bank and their own Oriental speciality-brewed affliction and yoke : the Asian Development Bank, whose sole purpose, from its inception, was to develop ‘DEBT’ and demand, through the sinister guises of ‘Conditionality’ and ‘Good Governance’, that structural adjustment policies be implemented to enforce the foreign privatisation of the Philippines’ nationalised utilities and natural resources.
Evolving the government system from one of a blatantly counterfeit Democracy to an actual ‘Corporatocracy’, a ‘quid pro quo’ for keeping the Spanish and Chinese oligarchy’s arses in a state of guaranteed perpetuity, has been the sole purpose of every elected president since Manuel Quezon.
Gloria has continued to perpetuate this policy on behalf of her shadowy western Zionist banking Masters, maximising profits for foreign corporations, regardless of the social and environmental costs. This has further created a condition of debt-obligated materialism throughout the nation, wherein even religious purpose and individual spirituality are compromised at all levels of society.
But the cost of control is the cost of the soul. Such is the tax on the wages of sin, as Gloria will eventually learn to her eternal cost.
Pity the proletariat population of such a beautiful multi-island nation whose guaranteed annual stipend of typhoons is further blighted with earthquakes, tsunamis, floods (and droughts), volcanoes, landslides, Islamic terrorists / Moro separatists, and a Communist New Peoples’ Army.
Only a cruel and capricious God could further saddle and curse them with a government whose corruption defies description and is administered by political agents of self-interest.
Ay nako, Mang Pinoy, if it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any. “Hoy! Gising naman!”
Sunday, 19 October 2008
Nobel Prize for Literature won by Obscure Scribbler
His name is totally unknown in Britain, the United States and other similarly-remote parts of the Third World.
Aye, a name rarely mentioned, unless in whispers, anywhere else around the globe, and especially not in polite company. The odd Albatross might comment on it to a passing Sooty Tern, and then on, in typical seabird gossip fashion, to some ostracised Gannet, to a flock of migrating puffins.
In fact, as of him winning the Nobel Prize for Literature last week, even his own publisher hadn't heard of him.
Rumours abound on media channels that as of the selection and award process, where lots of names are scribbled on expired Stockholm tram tickets, then picked out of a hat, even the Nobel Prize jury hadn't heard of him.
French Nobel juror Nobby Sarkozy told the press that he had dreamed a little bird murmured in his ear that an author whose name sounded a bit like Jean Migraine Gorblimey Le Clezio would win the Literature prize.
He had thus cast his vote for the unknown novelist, who surprisingly enough turned out to be of Gallic origin when the Nobel arbitration committee did a Google search and found the name in the classified section of a Mauritanian telephone directory, listed as a GORGI-registered koala wanker and unemployed novelist.
However, Swedish juror Slevin Tonk was at odds with the award and informed reporters "I tink it is all a great pile of shit. This French dog-fucker Teakozy having little birds whisper in his ear and tell him who to vote for and nobody has heard of the man. I tink sometink stink in Denmark and it is not Hamlet's socks."
The 126 year-old novelist, who wrote his last piece, a schoolboy essay titled 'What I did on my holidays in Bologne', now lives in the remote mountains of Mauritania at the prestigious Ras al-Smegma Happy Hermit Recluse Resort, sharing a bungalow with celebrity nanny-basher Lucky Lucan.
The announcement last week that JMG Le Clézio was the 2008 winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature was greeted with a predictable chorus of indignation, raspberry blowing and rear-end flatulent salutes by the Anglophobe media.
"Le Clézio: Who he?" shouted the headline in the Los Angeles Dog Wanker's Weekly News.
"I've never read his books. In fact, until Thursday morning, I'd never heard of the twat," confessed LA Times columnist Barton Scrogknot, as he went on a classical whinge binge, deploring the way North American novelists have allegedly been consistently ignored and overlooked by the Nobel Prize jury since the dawn of time.
(Apparently the last true North American to win the prize was Shitting Bull, the Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux chief, in 1877, for his highly acclaimed biography of General George Armstrong Custard : 'The Seventh Cavalry can Kiss my big Red Ass')
In the London Evening Standard, columnist David Pisspot was outraged at the thought that the Nobel Prize had gone to an author whose works only exist in Egyptian Middle Kingdom Hieroglyphs and archaic Babylonian cuneiform script.
Le Clézio's work, Pisspot had discovered, is barely available to non-Aramaic speakers: "Why can't I read books by a noble Frenchman?" he complained. "All I've been able to find so far, after a week searching, are a few extracts and quotes from his most famous book, 'Francois Fucks a Piggy-wig', which seems a bit simplistic about noble savagery. But what do I know, especially writing news copy in the Donkey an' Carrot at this time of the afternoon?"
Critic and literary commentator Mark Lawton revealed his own fruitless attempts and frustrations in learning more about Le Clézio, employing a revolutionary Polish internet search engine that consisted of several empty night-time beverage tins connected by lengths of taut string and routed through mole tunnels across Europe and North Africa.
"Inevitably, the choice of this Google-thin writer will revive accusations of obscurant nepotism," he grumbled in TheSpoof. "Did he ever write anything? Was he a member of the elite French Foreign Camel Bonkers Legion? Was he really addicted to deviant sex with small furry mammals? Did any of his nine wives have any idea?"
The Francophobe press, naturally, saw it differently. As they were quick to point out, there is nothing obscure about Le Clézio's prolific literary oeuvre.
Indeed, he had been tipped to win the Nobel Prize since the storming of the Bastille in 1789, and has been the recipient of the most inventive and prestigious French literary prizes for an author who never wrote a thing worthy of comment, was read by nobody, and has as much substance as HG Wells 'Invisible Man'.
Aye, a name rarely mentioned, unless in whispers, anywhere else around the globe, and especially not in polite company. The odd Albatross might comment on it to a passing Sooty Tern, and then on, in typical seabird gossip fashion, to some ostracised Gannet, to a flock of migrating puffins.
In fact, as of him winning the Nobel Prize for Literature last week, even his own publisher hadn't heard of him.
Rumours abound on media channels that as of the selection and award process, where lots of names are scribbled on expired Stockholm tram tickets, then picked out of a hat, even the Nobel Prize jury hadn't heard of him.
French Nobel juror Nobby Sarkozy told the press that he had dreamed a little bird murmured in his ear that an author whose name sounded a bit like Jean Migraine Gorblimey Le Clezio would win the Literature prize.
He had thus cast his vote for the unknown novelist, who surprisingly enough turned out to be of Gallic origin when the Nobel arbitration committee did a Google search and found the name in the classified section of a Mauritanian telephone directory, listed as a GORGI-registered koala wanker and unemployed novelist.
However, Swedish juror Slevin Tonk was at odds with the award and informed reporters "I tink it is all a great pile of shit. This French dog-fucker Teakozy having little birds whisper in his ear and tell him who to vote for and nobody has heard of the man. I tink sometink stink in Denmark and it is not Hamlet's socks."
The 126 year-old novelist, who wrote his last piece, a schoolboy essay titled 'What I did on my holidays in Bologne', now lives in the remote mountains of Mauritania at the prestigious Ras al-Smegma Happy Hermit Recluse Resort, sharing a bungalow with celebrity nanny-basher Lucky Lucan.
The announcement last week that JMG Le Clézio was the 2008 winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature was greeted with a predictable chorus of indignation, raspberry blowing and rear-end flatulent salutes by the Anglophobe media.
"Le Clézio: Who he?" shouted the headline in the Los Angeles Dog Wanker's Weekly News.
"I've never read his books. In fact, until Thursday morning, I'd never heard of the twat," confessed LA Times columnist Barton Scrogknot, as he went on a classical whinge binge, deploring the way North American novelists have allegedly been consistently ignored and overlooked by the Nobel Prize jury since the dawn of time.
(Apparently the last true North American to win the prize was Shitting Bull, the Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux chief, in 1877, for his highly acclaimed biography of General George Armstrong Custard : 'The Seventh Cavalry can Kiss my big Red Ass')
In the London Evening Standard, columnist David Pisspot was outraged at the thought that the Nobel Prize had gone to an author whose works only exist in Egyptian Middle Kingdom Hieroglyphs and archaic Babylonian cuneiform script.
Le Clézio's work, Pisspot had discovered, is barely available to non-Aramaic speakers: "Why can't I read books by a noble Frenchman?" he complained. "All I've been able to find so far, after a week searching, are a few extracts and quotes from his most famous book, 'Francois Fucks a Piggy-wig', which seems a bit simplistic about noble savagery. But what do I know, especially writing news copy in the Donkey an' Carrot at this time of the afternoon?"
Critic and literary commentator Mark Lawton revealed his own fruitless attempts and frustrations in learning more about Le Clézio, employing a revolutionary Polish internet search engine that consisted of several empty night-time beverage tins connected by lengths of taut string and routed through mole tunnels across Europe and North Africa.
"Inevitably, the choice of this Google-thin writer will revive accusations of obscurant nepotism," he grumbled in TheSpoof. "Did he ever write anything? Was he a member of the elite French Foreign Camel Bonkers Legion? Was he really addicted to deviant sex with small furry mammals? Did any of his nine wives have any idea?"
The Francophobe press, naturally, saw it differently. As they were quick to point out, there is nothing obscure about Le Clézio's prolific literary oeuvre.
Indeed, he had been tipped to win the Nobel Prize since the storming of the Bastille in 1789, and has been the recipient of the most inventive and prestigious French literary prizes for an author who never wrote a thing worthy of comment, was read by nobody, and has as much substance as HG Wells 'Invisible Man'.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Killer Chef Cooked Dead Boyfriend
A wannabe celebrity chef has been found guilty of porking his male lover to death, in a Viagra-fuelled drunken sex romp, with a twelve inch strap-on salami. He then compounded his crime by slicing off several choice cuts of the victim’s flesh and cooking them on his garden barbeque.
The ‘choice cuts’ apparently included chuck, ribs, tenderloins and rump.
Anthony Moorhen, 36, the consolation prize winner of Mr Gay UK 1993, had denied murdering 33-year-old Desmond Titwit, claiming diminished responsibility while under the influence of drugs and alcohol.
However, pieces of cooked human flesh were found in Moorhen's kitchen at Buggery Terrace, the prosecution informed the jury at Smegmadale Crown Court.
Police forensics officers took samples of the barbequed flesh, which they commented tasted ‘quite yummy’ due the special marinade Moorhen had prepared them in, and determined the DNA matched that of the deceased.
A Beef Wellington containing the deceased’s penis was recovered from a refrigerator, which the forensic officers found ‘very tasty’.
The murder was described by prosecutors in court, as ‘terrible, horrific and bizarre’, and several other choice adjectives that court reporters couldn’t be arsed to write down.
The jury was informed the two men had been involved in a relationship ‘of some kind’ but Moorhen was confused about his sexuality and didn’t know whether he wanted an ‘Adam and Steve’, Madam and Steve, or a Frank and Earnest type affiliation.
Moorhen, a chef at McMongol’s Chew and Spew, told the court when he won the Mr Gay UK consolation prize in 1993 he had a girlfriend at the time and was also heavily into sodomizing cormorants and stray cats.
On the day of the killing both men had been drinking White Lightning and meths cocktails before going to the bedroom, where Moorhen claimed the deceased, Desmond Titwit, an
unemployed ferret stretcher, had tried to rape him.
“Me ‘ead was all fucked up like, yer know. Wot wiv der drink an’ der Viagra chasers and all de Ecstacy me an’ Dessie ‘ad bin swillin’ down our bleedin’ necks.”
“Anyways, Dessie’s after getting’ into me arse like, but I’m fucked if I knows wot I want. Am I gonna be a taker or a giver? Do I want Dessie’s cock up me shitter or should I give ‘im one instead. So I does like, gives ‘im a Liverpool kiss right on ‘is beak to stop der twat maulin’ me”.
“Then Dessie gets all teary-eyed an’ submissive wiv der drink an’ me smackin' 'im an' goes into one of ‘is bondage fetish moods. Then ‘e wants me to tie ‘im up, so I does like then gives ‘im a good rogerin’ up the bum wiv ‘is strap-on salami, an’ then next thing ‘e lets out dis weird croakin’ noise an’ drops fuckin’ dead on me, der rotten selfish twat, which wos absolutely bleedin’ typical of ‘im."
Judge Basildon Quimp, in summing up the case, told the court Moorhen had shown no remorse for the killing, compounding his crime by cooking and eating body parts from the deceased, and keeping the cadaver in his chest freezer for further culinary use.
“Mitigating circumstances might have been considered if the defendant had shared with police the secret of his delicious recipe for preparing the barbeque marinade.”
The ‘choice cuts’ apparently included chuck, ribs, tenderloins and rump.
Anthony Moorhen, 36, the consolation prize winner of Mr Gay UK 1993, had denied murdering 33-year-old Desmond Titwit, claiming diminished responsibility while under the influence of drugs and alcohol.
However, pieces of cooked human flesh were found in Moorhen's kitchen at Buggery Terrace, the prosecution informed the jury at Smegmadale Crown Court.
Police forensics officers took samples of the barbequed flesh, which they commented tasted ‘quite yummy’ due the special marinade Moorhen had prepared them in, and determined the DNA matched that of the deceased.
A Beef Wellington containing the deceased’s penis was recovered from a refrigerator, which the forensic officers found ‘very tasty’.
The murder was described by prosecutors in court, as ‘terrible, horrific and bizarre’, and several other choice adjectives that court reporters couldn’t be arsed to write down.
The jury was informed the two men had been involved in a relationship ‘of some kind’ but Moorhen was confused about his sexuality and didn’t know whether he wanted an ‘Adam and Steve’, Madam and Steve, or a Frank and Earnest type affiliation.
Moorhen, a chef at McMongol’s Chew and Spew, told the court when he won the Mr Gay UK consolation prize in 1993 he had a girlfriend at the time and was also heavily into sodomizing cormorants and stray cats.
On the day of the killing both men had been drinking White Lightning and meths cocktails before going to the bedroom, where Moorhen claimed the deceased, Desmond Titwit, an
unemployed ferret stretcher, had tried to rape him.
“Me ‘ead was all fucked up like, yer know. Wot wiv der drink an’ der Viagra chasers and all de Ecstacy me an’ Dessie ‘ad bin swillin’ down our bleedin’ necks.”
“Anyways, Dessie’s after getting’ into me arse like, but I’m fucked if I knows wot I want. Am I gonna be a taker or a giver? Do I want Dessie’s cock up me shitter or should I give ‘im one instead. So I does like, gives ‘im a Liverpool kiss right on ‘is beak to stop der twat maulin’ me”.
“Then Dessie gets all teary-eyed an’ submissive wiv der drink an’ me smackin' 'im an' goes into one of ‘is bondage fetish moods. Then ‘e wants me to tie ‘im up, so I does like then gives ‘im a good rogerin’ up the bum wiv ‘is strap-on salami, an’ then next thing ‘e lets out dis weird croakin’ noise an’ drops fuckin’ dead on me, der rotten selfish twat, which wos absolutely bleedin’ typical of ‘im."
Judge Basildon Quimp, in summing up the case, told the court Moorhen had shown no remorse for the killing, compounding his crime by cooking and eating body parts from the deceased, and keeping the cadaver in his chest freezer for further culinary use.
“Mitigating circumstances might have been considered if the defendant had shared with police the secret of his delicious recipe for preparing the barbeque marinade.”
Friday, 17 October 2008
Dubai Beach Sex Brits Found Guilty
A British man and woman have been sentenced to three months in jail in delightful Dubai after being found guilty of having sex on a sewage-swamped beach.
Candida Twatrot, of Rutting Road, Smegmadale East, and Vinny Flatpack, a resident of the town’s Sodomy Gardens, were arrested on 5th July at a popular doggying rendezvous on Ras al Slutbag Beach some hours after attending a champagne brunch at Dubai's five-star Les Al Fresco hotel.
Evidence against the cavorting couple was given in court by Sheik Ali bin Wankin, head of Dubai’s strict religious police, the nation state’s Gestapo-fashioned Killjoy Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, known as the Muttawa,
Sheik bin Wankin informed the court “They were very drunk and making the beast with two backs on a public beach after dark. If he had been enjoying the carnal company of a goat that is acceptable, but he was poking his penis into the sex holes of a foreign white trash infidel sow-dog slapper bitch that was naked too, not even her socks on”.
The pair denied charges of public indecency and having unlawful sex, stating it was well after dark and they were situated on an unlit secluded part of the beach.
Mr. Flatpack’s statement to the court that a ‘spot of mutually-consented outdoor sexual gymnastics was common in British parks after dark and a very healthy pursuit,’ elicited a bout of disgusted gavel-bashing from Judge Mohammed al-Plonker.
Speaking with the foreign press prior to the trial, the couple gave their side of the story.
“We meets up at the champers brunch and finds out we was both from East Smegmadale like”. Miss Twatrot told reporters. “Anyways, we gets a few bevvies down our necks like an’ it’s goin’ dark, and I’m lookin’ down the beach an’ see all the raw sewage gettin’ washed ashore and that really turns me on cos I’m right into raunchy scat play an' water sports sessions.”
Vinny Flatpack continued, “Yeah, so we gets down on the beach, strips off, an’ starts givin’ it mobs of foreplay, rollin’ round in the shit and the sand. Next thing I’m givin’ Candida one rodeo style and this mob of dildos come runnin’ down the beach, screamin’ an’ what’ ave yer. They’re all dressed up in sheets wiv teatowels on their ‘eads an’ I thought it woz some kinda Halloween joke thing, then one sticks 'is foot right in the crease of me arse just as I’m on the vinegar stroke and shouts ‘Infidel honky pigs : you’re under arrest!”
The pair were at Dubai's Court of the Last Resort to hear the ruling and have been ordered not to leave the Emirate.
Their Rwanda-trained defence lawyer Hassan al-Twatter, had insisted they would be proved innocent and was upset by the court’s decision of a custodial sentence.
"We are making an appeal against the verdict. I have 15 days to appeal and find the reason why the judge gave them a three months sentence. Probably because our first bribe was too small".
While the case has turned the spotlight on the decadent and lascivious lifestyles of the 120,000 British residents of the United Arab Emirates, the BBC's Dubai correspondent, Aldous Dorkpuller, says there have been concerns lately that tourists are ignoring the Emirate's strict Islamic laws.
He personally estimates the outcome of this case will be a warning that such drunken and debauched behaviour will not be tolerated in public, unless the perpetrators are Arabs and related to Dubai’s Al Maktoum ruling family.
The case has highlighted for Brits at home yet another sound reason not to go working, or take holidays, in overseas dumps with crap legal systems and shithouse laws. Experienced sources claim even a weekend spell in one of Dubai’s jails is as much fun as chemotherapy or having one’s haemorrhoids cauterised with a cigar.
Dubai’s Wahabism state religion, a stricter version of the everyday common or garden Sunni and Cher styles of Islam, subjugates women to the lowly status of animals and also enforces the wearing of a burkha, covering them from head to toe when in the shower, and further bans them from operating wheelbarrows or flymo strimmers in public.
Candida Twatrot, of Rutting Road, Smegmadale East, and Vinny Flatpack, a resident of the town’s Sodomy Gardens, were arrested on 5th July at a popular doggying rendezvous on Ras al Slutbag Beach some hours after attending a champagne brunch at Dubai's five-star Les Al Fresco hotel.
Evidence against the cavorting couple was given in court by Sheik Ali bin Wankin, head of Dubai’s strict religious police, the nation state’s Gestapo-fashioned Killjoy Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, known as the Muttawa,
Sheik bin Wankin informed the court “They were very drunk and making the beast with two backs on a public beach after dark. If he had been enjoying the carnal company of a goat that is acceptable, but he was poking his penis into the sex holes of a foreign white trash infidel sow-dog slapper bitch that was naked too, not even her socks on”.
The pair denied charges of public indecency and having unlawful sex, stating it was well after dark and they were situated on an unlit secluded part of the beach.
Mr. Flatpack’s statement to the court that a ‘spot of mutually-consented outdoor sexual gymnastics was common in British parks after dark and a very healthy pursuit,’ elicited a bout of disgusted gavel-bashing from Judge Mohammed al-Plonker.
Speaking with the foreign press prior to the trial, the couple gave their side of the story.
“We meets up at the champers brunch and finds out we was both from East Smegmadale like”. Miss Twatrot told reporters. “Anyways, we gets a few bevvies down our necks like an’ it’s goin’ dark, and I’m lookin’ down the beach an’ see all the raw sewage gettin’ washed ashore and that really turns me on cos I’m right into raunchy scat play an' water sports sessions.”
Vinny Flatpack continued, “Yeah, so we gets down on the beach, strips off, an’ starts givin’ it mobs of foreplay, rollin’ round in the shit and the sand. Next thing I’m givin’ Candida one rodeo style and this mob of dildos come runnin’ down the beach, screamin’ an’ what’ ave yer. They’re all dressed up in sheets wiv teatowels on their ‘eads an’ I thought it woz some kinda Halloween joke thing, then one sticks 'is foot right in the crease of me arse just as I’m on the vinegar stroke and shouts ‘Infidel honky pigs : you’re under arrest!”
The pair were at Dubai's Court of the Last Resort to hear the ruling and have been ordered not to leave the Emirate.
Their Rwanda-trained defence lawyer Hassan al-Twatter, had insisted they would be proved innocent and was upset by the court’s decision of a custodial sentence.
"We are making an appeal against the verdict. I have 15 days to appeal and find the reason why the judge gave them a three months sentence. Probably because our first bribe was too small".
While the case has turned the spotlight on the decadent and lascivious lifestyles of the 120,000 British residents of the United Arab Emirates, the BBC's Dubai correspondent, Aldous Dorkpuller, says there have been concerns lately that tourists are ignoring the Emirate's strict Islamic laws.
He personally estimates the outcome of this case will be a warning that such drunken and debauched behaviour will not be tolerated in public, unless the perpetrators are Arabs and related to Dubai’s Al Maktoum ruling family.
The case has highlighted for Brits at home yet another sound reason not to go working, or take holidays, in overseas dumps with crap legal systems and shithouse laws. Experienced sources claim even a weekend spell in one of Dubai’s jails is as much fun as chemotherapy or having one’s haemorrhoids cauterised with a cigar.
Dubai’s Wahabism state religion, a stricter version of the everyday common or garden Sunni and Cher styles of Islam, subjugates women to the lowly status of animals and also enforces the wearing of a burkha, covering them from head to toe when in the shower, and further bans them from operating wheelbarrows or flymo strimmers in public.
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Exotic Tropical Insects Invade UK
Exotic species of spiders are making their homes in the UK according to a coven of dandruff-ridden, spotty, four-eyed anoraks writing in the latest issue of the Arachnid Stompers Weekly.
Researchers believe arachnids and a myriad of other tropical insects arriving in imports of food and plants are now able to survive and spread thanks to the UK's climate going completely tits-up and England being classed as semi-tropical. Well, this week anyway.
The new inhabitants include an African species of false widow spider (aka the Adulterer or Bigamist spider : one whose 8-legged husband is actually still alive) Some entomologists believe the deadly black widow spider could be next to invade, searching for fresh husbands to embalm and suck the life juices out of once they’ve had their typical wicked, feminine way.
Conservation group Buglife wants import rules to be strengthened to stem the tide of alien species invasion which has coincided with the UK being swamped with semi-skilled plumbers and decorators from Europe.
Barry Stagbeetle, director of Buglife, told BBC News: "Other countries in the world take great care about what biological crap they allow in, because it can contain pests that can damage our goods, our livelihoods, our health and our biodiversity. Look at all the Polish bricklayers and Albanian swan-roasters sneaking in here and the damage they’re doing to our great British traditions and environment.”
However, Sir Miles Offcourse, spokesperson for the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs ‘Yeast Logic’ department said that a new strategy was in place to "tackle the threat to the UK's native biodiversity from unwanted pest species which have 'hitchhiked' into the UK on plants and a wide variety of unscrubbed African and Asian refugees".
When asked to elaborate on this ‘new strategy’ Sir Miles promptly complained of stomach cramps and a migraine and pissed off sharply.
John Chrysalis from the British Arachnological Society said his organisation had experienced a vast increase in the number of enquiries about "strange spiders" being found in people’s baths”.
One new inhabitant is Steatoda paykulliana, aka the Swaziland Pitbull spider, a native of Southern Africa, which weighs in at about 5 kilos / half a meter in length and can rip the head off a Pembroke Welsh corgi with a single snap of its mandibles.
While this spider had been spotted in the UK in the past no colonies have been recorded since the RAF nuked the last batch on the Isle of Wight two years ago, wiping out the entire human population in the process and rendering the island uninhabitable for the next 50, 000 years.
However Dr. Daniel Dungpucker, head of the Insect Identification Service at the Natural History Museum, said this was no longer the case.
He informed reporters "We have recently discovered webs of the Swaziland Pitbull spider all along the south coast, from Minge Point to the River Merkin and established well into the New Forest too. It looks as if it‘s here to stay unless we get one of our famous British cold spells to wipe it out. Another Ice Age perhaps, or something similarly exciting".
The arrival of exotic spiders and insects that had hitched a ride on various imports was not a new phenomenon, said Dr. Dungpucker. "If there was a warm period they would be able to survive, but a cold snap would kill them off," he explained.
"But now, our increasingly warm climate is starting to suit many more spiders – very aggressive ones too - and once they come in, they are able to stay put. A bit like the Poles and Albanians and vulgar Bulgars etc."
Steatoda nobilis is one such spider that fits Dr. Dungpucker’s classification of aggressive.
Known to entomologists as the Asbo Spider, it is thought to have first arrived in the UK from the Mediterranean in the 1960’s.
For decades it remained in a small area within Devon, but about 15 years ago it began to spread, in various mutated forms, and can now be spotted all across the UK, being colloquially known as a Hoodie or Chav spider.
Dr. Dungpucker emphasised "It has a nasty stabbing bite - and some people can have a bad reaction to it, such as dying".
The Mutton spider (Segestria florentina), another non-native biting specimen, has also been on the move this past year, spreading from the South Coast much further north to the Shetlands. It is a large spider, measuring up to 1.5 meters in length with green iridescence on its jaws and can often be spotted somewhere along the M1 / M6 motorways route heading north to the Scottish Highlands.
When asked by an incredulous media why it was known as the ‘Mutton spider’ Dr. Dungpucker replied “Because it eats sheep, silly”.
Researchers believe arachnids and a myriad of other tropical insects arriving in imports of food and plants are now able to survive and spread thanks to the UK's climate going completely tits-up and England being classed as semi-tropical. Well, this week anyway.
The new inhabitants include an African species of false widow spider (aka the Adulterer or Bigamist spider : one whose 8-legged husband is actually still alive) Some entomologists believe the deadly black widow spider could be next to invade, searching for fresh husbands to embalm and suck the life juices out of once they’ve had their typical wicked, feminine way.
Conservation group Buglife wants import rules to be strengthened to stem the tide of alien species invasion which has coincided with the UK being swamped with semi-skilled plumbers and decorators from Europe.
Barry Stagbeetle, director of Buglife, told BBC News: "Other countries in the world take great care about what biological crap they allow in, because it can contain pests that can damage our goods, our livelihoods, our health and our biodiversity. Look at all the Polish bricklayers and Albanian swan-roasters sneaking in here and the damage they’re doing to our great British traditions and environment.”
However, Sir Miles Offcourse, spokesperson for the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs ‘Yeast Logic’ department said that a new strategy was in place to "tackle the threat to the UK's native biodiversity from unwanted pest species which have 'hitchhiked' into the UK on plants and a wide variety of unscrubbed African and Asian refugees".
When asked to elaborate on this ‘new strategy’ Sir Miles promptly complained of stomach cramps and a migraine and pissed off sharply.
John Chrysalis from the British Arachnological Society said his organisation had experienced a vast increase in the number of enquiries about "strange spiders" being found in people’s baths”.
One new inhabitant is Steatoda paykulliana, aka the Swaziland Pitbull spider, a native of Southern Africa, which weighs in at about 5 kilos / half a meter in length and can rip the head off a Pembroke Welsh corgi with a single snap of its mandibles.
While this spider had been spotted in the UK in the past no colonies have been recorded since the RAF nuked the last batch on the Isle of Wight two years ago, wiping out the entire human population in the process and rendering the island uninhabitable for the next 50, 000 years.
However Dr. Daniel Dungpucker, head of the Insect Identification Service at the Natural History Museum, said this was no longer the case.
He informed reporters "We have recently discovered webs of the Swaziland Pitbull spider all along the south coast, from Minge Point to the River Merkin and established well into the New Forest too. It looks as if it‘s here to stay unless we get one of our famous British cold spells to wipe it out. Another Ice Age perhaps, or something similarly exciting".
The arrival of exotic spiders and insects that had hitched a ride on various imports was not a new phenomenon, said Dr. Dungpucker. "If there was a warm period they would be able to survive, but a cold snap would kill them off," he explained.
"But now, our increasingly warm climate is starting to suit many more spiders – very aggressive ones too - and once they come in, they are able to stay put. A bit like the Poles and Albanians and vulgar Bulgars etc."
Steatoda nobilis is one such spider that fits Dr. Dungpucker’s classification of aggressive.
Known to entomologists as the Asbo Spider, it is thought to have first arrived in the UK from the Mediterranean in the 1960’s.
For decades it remained in a small area within Devon, but about 15 years ago it began to spread, in various mutated forms, and can now be spotted all across the UK, being colloquially known as a Hoodie or Chav spider.
Dr. Dungpucker emphasised "It has a nasty stabbing bite - and some people can have a bad reaction to it, such as dying".
The Mutton spider (Segestria florentina), another non-native biting specimen, has also been on the move this past year, spreading from the South Coast much further north to the Shetlands. It is a large spider, measuring up to 1.5 meters in length with green iridescence on its jaws and can often be spotted somewhere along the M1 / M6 motorways route heading north to the Scottish Highlands.
When asked by an incredulous media why it was known as the ‘Mutton spider’ Dr. Dungpucker replied “Because it eats sheep, silly”.
Shoelace Sammy Jailed for Burglary
A hapless teenage burglar found hanging upside down by his shoelaces from a window of the house he had broken into has been jailed for life in an attempt to protect him, and the public at large, from his own stupidity.
Sammy ‘Asbo’ Snitgruber, 16, of Dickhead Street, Smegmadale, was sentenced at Lancashire Assizes after pleading guilty to 127 counts of burglary and 14 counts of buggery involving household pets and a duck.
Snitgruber was found suspended from the window of a house in Murphy’s Law Crescent after getting his foot caught on the window’s latch while trying to escape the property in August with a refrigerator, a washing machine and the owner’s cat.
When arrested by a responding police patrol, Snitgruber declared he had been carrying out his community service order and was cleaning the windows of the house and ‘slipped’, catching his shoelaces on the window catch and became suspended upside-down.
Summing up the case Judge Fred Dread told the court “This was clearly a case of breaking and entry, albeit a wholly incompetent and pathetic one, which left the defendant dangling from the window frame for several hours.
Mr. Shitgruber possesses a truly appalling criminal record for a boy of 16, much of it related to his addiction to White Lightning and hard drugs since he was expelled from kindergarden.”
Snitgruber was sentenced to life imprisonment, less the 59 days he had already spent remanded in custard.
The sentence also incorporated penalties for six counts of possession of AAA drugs, five previous bound over orders for breaches of the peace, four suspended judgements for duck buggery, three assaults on police officers, two shoplifting thefts and one for possession of a partridge in a pear-shaped tree.
Sammy ‘Asbo’ Snitgruber, 16, of Dickhead Street, Smegmadale, was sentenced at Lancashire Assizes after pleading guilty to 127 counts of burglary and 14 counts of buggery involving household pets and a duck.
Snitgruber was found suspended from the window of a house in Murphy’s Law Crescent after getting his foot caught on the window’s latch while trying to escape the property in August with a refrigerator, a washing machine and the owner’s cat.
When arrested by a responding police patrol, Snitgruber declared he had been carrying out his community service order and was cleaning the windows of the house and ‘slipped’, catching his shoelaces on the window catch and became suspended upside-down.
Summing up the case Judge Fred Dread told the court “This was clearly a case of breaking and entry, albeit a wholly incompetent and pathetic one, which left the defendant dangling from the window frame for several hours.
Mr. Shitgruber possesses a truly appalling criminal record for a boy of 16, much of it related to his addiction to White Lightning and hard drugs since he was expelled from kindergarden.”
Snitgruber was sentenced to life imprisonment, less the 59 days he had already spent remanded in custard.
The sentence also incorporated penalties for six counts of possession of AAA drugs, five previous bound over orders for breaches of the peace, four suspended judgements for duck buggery, three assaults on police officers, two shoplifting thefts and one for possession of a partridge in a pear-shaped tree.
Monday, 13 October 2008
Raw Sewage Threat to Booming Dubai
The once-pristine tropical beaches bordering the prestigious Dubai Yacht Club and neighbouring prime tourist hang-outs have recently become swamped in raw sewage.
The putrid problem is caused by the illegal dumping of untreated crap in Dubai's inland storm drain network, as the city's rapid growth outstrips its meagre and pitiful infrastructure at an estimated rate of ten to one.
Outside Dubai's only sewage treatment plant there are long queues of sewage tankers and serious delays due masses of excreted coconut shells and date stones causing havoc and jamming the works of the plant’s filtration machinery.
Dubai’s Minister of Sewage, Sheik Well-before-using, a former flatpack tent erector, told tourism reporters “It’s all these undigested date and fruit stones getting through to the filtration systems and blocking it up.”
“So the truck drivers emptying the city’s septic tanks, who get paid by the shit load, are losing out having to queue for hours at the plant waiting to discharge legally.
Hence after dark the drivers are taking a shortcut and dumping their loads straight into manholes and storm drains meant only for rainwater, resulting in gallons of liquid shite flowing directly into the Gulf - right next to the prime tourist beaches.
Thus, with one and a half million arseholes discharging into our sewage system on average every day you might say Dubai’s shit out of luck”.
Wazir al-Sniggit, the Luton-educated head of the Marine and Environmental Protection Agency, told the media they had released several large shoals of imported African shit-eating turdfish into the coastal waters recently, but all had been stricken with a previously-unknown strain of pelagic dysentery and were decimated within days.
However Sniggit maintains, in an attempt to reassure tourists, that his agency’s latest test results show samples of the Gulf’s waters are "within the standard".
"Samples were taken from three locations - the harbour café washroom, my apartment’s shower and from the Yacht Club’s swimming pool," explained Mr. al-Sniggit. "It is safe according to our report - within the safe limit - apart from a few drifts of surface clinkers and the odd turd paddling around.
Just remember keep your mouth closed and not to swallow anything lumpy when taking a swim and all should be fine”.
But independent tests arranged by the Dubai Yacht Club show the Gulf’s coastal waters to be highly contaminated with bacteria and human faeces floating in the sea.
“Our tests show the water isn’t safe," related Jeremy Barton-Snott, General Manager of the Yacht Club. “Mr. al-Sniggit’s remarks about a ‘few drifts of clinkers along the coast is totally false. It’s more like an entire flotilla of shitbits”.
“Only yesterday I went out in one of our fast rescue craft to retrieve what I took for a capsized wind surfing board. It turned out to be a twelve-foot long agglomeration of turds with a sail stuck in the middle. Very nasty indeed, a veritable shit-fest”.
Yacht club member Dr. Harry Shipman, head of Dubai’s Euthanasia Medical Centre, advised reporters “Our laboratory tests indicate the coastal waters are highly contaminated with leptospirosis and several other types of evil-sounding bacteria I can’t even spell.”
However, what is troubling Mr. al-Sniggit and his Marine and Environmental Protection Agency staff even more than the current problem is a crisis of Biblical proportions they consider might just be waiting to happen.
Only one of Dubai’s many storm water outlets is currently open and this has been the singular polluting source resulting from the illegal sewage dumping so far.
However, when the first rains come to Dubai this winter all the other outlets will be discharging torrents into the sea along the entire coastline and no-one yet exactly knows how much illegally-dumped festering sewage they currently contain.
Markus Squirrelgroper, a German consultant Crapologist for the Houston-based multi-national sewage processors Shitpits R Us, hired by the Dubai administration to sort out the mess, spoke to an interviewer from the Dubai Daily Dipshit News TV station earlier today.
“Yeah, wot der fuck dese Arab sheik plonkers are tinkin’ I am not knowing. Dey are makin’ how many palm islands here in de Gulf for dese luxury house and tourist hotel an’ not tinkin’ where do all de shit gonna go, eh.”
“Dey haff how many tousands of dese curry-swiller from Pakistan here as labourer dat making a shit maybe ten times a day and only haff one shit treatment plant for de whole place”.
“You know in Washington dey haff fifty treatment plants for all de shit dat goes on dere”.
The putrid problem is caused by the illegal dumping of untreated crap in Dubai's inland storm drain network, as the city's rapid growth outstrips its meagre and pitiful infrastructure at an estimated rate of ten to one.
Outside Dubai's only sewage treatment plant there are long queues of sewage tankers and serious delays due masses of excreted coconut shells and date stones causing havoc and jamming the works of the plant’s filtration machinery.
Dubai’s Minister of Sewage, Sheik Well-before-using, a former flatpack tent erector, told tourism reporters “It’s all these undigested date and fruit stones getting through to the filtration systems and blocking it up.”
“So the truck drivers emptying the city’s septic tanks, who get paid by the shit load, are losing out having to queue for hours at the plant waiting to discharge legally.
Hence after dark the drivers are taking a shortcut and dumping their loads straight into manholes and storm drains meant only for rainwater, resulting in gallons of liquid shite flowing directly into the Gulf - right next to the prime tourist beaches.
Thus, with one and a half million arseholes discharging into our sewage system on average every day you might say Dubai’s shit out of luck”.
Wazir al-Sniggit, the Luton-educated head of the Marine and Environmental Protection Agency, told the media they had released several large shoals of imported African shit-eating turdfish into the coastal waters recently, but all had been stricken with a previously-unknown strain of pelagic dysentery and were decimated within days.
However Sniggit maintains, in an attempt to reassure tourists, that his agency’s latest test results show samples of the Gulf’s waters are "within the standard".
"Samples were taken from three locations - the harbour café washroom, my apartment’s shower and from the Yacht Club’s swimming pool," explained Mr. al-Sniggit. "It is safe according to our report - within the safe limit - apart from a few drifts of surface clinkers and the odd turd paddling around.
Just remember keep your mouth closed and not to swallow anything lumpy when taking a swim and all should be fine”.
But independent tests arranged by the Dubai Yacht Club show the Gulf’s coastal waters to be highly contaminated with bacteria and human faeces floating in the sea.
“Our tests show the water isn’t safe," related Jeremy Barton-Snott, General Manager of the Yacht Club. “Mr. al-Sniggit’s remarks about a ‘few drifts of clinkers along the coast is totally false. It’s more like an entire flotilla of shitbits”.
“Only yesterday I went out in one of our fast rescue craft to retrieve what I took for a capsized wind surfing board. It turned out to be a twelve-foot long agglomeration of turds with a sail stuck in the middle. Very nasty indeed, a veritable shit-fest”.
Yacht club member Dr. Harry Shipman, head of Dubai’s Euthanasia Medical Centre, advised reporters “Our laboratory tests indicate the coastal waters are highly contaminated with leptospirosis and several other types of evil-sounding bacteria I can’t even spell.”
However, what is troubling Mr. al-Sniggit and his Marine and Environmental Protection Agency staff even more than the current problem is a crisis of Biblical proportions they consider might just be waiting to happen.
Only one of Dubai’s many storm water outlets is currently open and this has been the singular polluting source resulting from the illegal sewage dumping so far.
However, when the first rains come to Dubai this winter all the other outlets will be discharging torrents into the sea along the entire coastline and no-one yet exactly knows how much illegally-dumped festering sewage they currently contain.
Markus Squirrelgroper, a German consultant Crapologist for the Houston-based multi-national sewage processors Shitpits R Us, hired by the Dubai administration to sort out the mess, spoke to an interviewer from the Dubai Daily Dipshit News TV station earlier today.
“Yeah, wot der fuck dese Arab sheik plonkers are tinkin’ I am not knowing. Dey are makin’ how many palm islands here in de Gulf for dese luxury house and tourist hotel an’ not tinkin’ where do all de shit gonna go, eh.”
“Dey haff how many tousands of dese curry-swiller from Pakistan here as labourer dat making a shit maybe ten times a day and only haff one shit treatment plant for de whole place”.
“You know in Washington dey haff fifty treatment plants for all de shit dat goes on dere”.
Ringo Too Busy for Autographs
Former Beatle Ringo Starr (real name Harris Stilton) will no longer sign memorabilia for fans and has declared he intends to throw away all fan mail received in the future.
Starr, who shares a birthday with Paddington Bear and is 168 today, stated in a celebratory video message on his website:
"Don’t send any more effin’ fan mail cos I’m bleedin’ sick of the shit. An’ as for autographs, nowt’s gettin’ signed after the 13th of October. If that’s the date on the envelope then it's gonna get tossed in the shitcan.
I'm warnin’ yer wiv peace and love, bruvvers, I’ve got too much to do lookin’ after me nose and these effin’ ‘emorrhoids.
Dressed like a Sicilian undertaker, in black clothes and dark glasses, Starr said it was "a serious message to everybody watching". He added: "No more fan mail and no objects to be signed. Nuffin’, Nada, Nowt, an’ fuck the lot of yers”.
Starr, who released his latest album ‘Liverpool Sucks’ in January, recently completed a tour of the outer planets in our solar system.
The Scouse-born musician currently divides his time between Los Alamos, Calcutta, the Outer Hebrides and living in a cardboard box in Surrey.
In April a 20 foot-high foliage sculpture of Starr’s head, grown on the forecourt of Lime Street train station in Liverpool, was de-beaked by vandals and the base sprayed with the slogan “Trunky’s a Fuckin’ Traitor”.
The rhino-featured performer had reportedly angered Scouse diehards when he disclosed on BBC One’s ‘Friday Night with Jonathan Tosspot’ show that he missed nothing about the shithole of a city where he was born and raised, then fatally commented on live television, “Liverpool : European City of Culture 2008 ? Wot utter bollocks!"
Starr, who started out on the road to fame and riches as a toucan impersonator at the Liverpool Bird Park, came from a poor family whose parents struggled to afford to drag their children up.
Their Toxteth neighbourhood was so poverty-stricken that if anyone paid the rent twice in a month the police came round to investigate where they’d got the money from.
Ringo’s younger sisters, Bingo and Dingo, recalled their brother never attended school but occasionally played with children who did.
“’e wuz allright, our Ringo, like. Always practicin’ ‘is drummin’ like an’ makin’ a fuckin’ noise,” Bingo informed Radio Scouseland. “’e couldn’t afford any drums like so ‘e used to go round Toxteth beatin’ the shit outa the dustbins wiv ‘is nose an’ a couple of chair legs.”
In response to this, Ms. Candida Twatrot, chairthingie of the Ringo Starr Fan Club, told reporters “We consider it a disgrace he has adopted this selfish attitude. His faithful followers, who have spent good money filling his pockets over the years for a return of crap albums, are now to be denied the occasional autographed get well note or a photo."
"Surely he can assign one of his bodyguard lackeys or some slapper from his stable of bitches to process the fan mail even if his haemorrhoids are playing him up. Bloody celebrities! I hope he chokes on his own arrogance”.
Starr, who shares a birthday with Paddington Bear and is 168 today, stated in a celebratory video message on his website:
"Don’t send any more effin’ fan mail cos I’m bleedin’ sick of the shit. An’ as for autographs, nowt’s gettin’ signed after the 13th of October. If that’s the date on the envelope then it's gonna get tossed in the shitcan.
I'm warnin’ yer wiv peace and love, bruvvers, I’ve got too much to do lookin’ after me nose and these effin’ ‘emorrhoids.
Dressed like a Sicilian undertaker, in black clothes and dark glasses, Starr said it was "a serious message to everybody watching". He added: "No more fan mail and no objects to be signed. Nuffin’, Nada, Nowt, an’ fuck the lot of yers”.
Starr, who released his latest album ‘Liverpool Sucks’ in January, recently completed a tour of the outer planets in our solar system.
The Scouse-born musician currently divides his time between Los Alamos, Calcutta, the Outer Hebrides and living in a cardboard box in Surrey.
In April a 20 foot-high foliage sculpture of Starr’s head, grown on the forecourt of Lime Street train station in Liverpool, was de-beaked by vandals and the base sprayed with the slogan “Trunky’s a Fuckin’ Traitor”.
The rhino-featured performer had reportedly angered Scouse diehards when he disclosed on BBC One’s ‘Friday Night with Jonathan Tosspot’ show that he missed nothing about the shithole of a city where he was born and raised, then fatally commented on live television, “Liverpool : European City of Culture 2008 ? Wot utter bollocks!"
Starr, who started out on the road to fame and riches as a toucan impersonator at the Liverpool Bird Park, came from a poor family whose parents struggled to afford to drag their children up.
Their Toxteth neighbourhood was so poverty-stricken that if anyone paid the rent twice in a month the police came round to investigate where they’d got the money from.
Ringo’s younger sisters, Bingo and Dingo, recalled their brother never attended school but occasionally played with children who did.
“’e wuz allright, our Ringo, like. Always practicin’ ‘is drummin’ like an’ makin’ a fuckin’ noise,” Bingo informed Radio Scouseland. “’e couldn’t afford any drums like so ‘e used to go round Toxteth beatin’ the shit outa the dustbins wiv ‘is nose an’ a couple of chair legs.”
In response to this, Ms. Candida Twatrot, chairthingie of the Ringo Starr Fan Club, told reporters “We consider it a disgrace he has adopted this selfish attitude. His faithful followers, who have spent good money filling his pockets over the years for a return of crap albums, are now to be denied the occasional autographed get well note or a photo."
"Surely he can assign one of his bodyguard lackeys or some slapper from his stable of bitches to process the fan mail even if his haemorrhoids are playing him up. Bloody celebrities! I hope he chokes on his own arrogance”.
Sunday, 12 October 2008
Sugar’s Crash Landing Screw-up
Sir Alan Sugar, known to sycophants and business associates alike as ‘Sweetie,’ has told accident investigators he made a wrong call when he landed his plane tits-up alongside a Greater Manchester airstrip.
The famously-cantankerous Apprentice star walked away from the light aircraft calamity with no more than a big brown stain down the arse of his trousers when it skidded along the grass verge of the dual carriageway opposite Barton Airport in Manchester.
Sir Alan, 161, who started on the road to fame and fortune as an apprentice conker stringer, laughed off reports he had cheated death in the crash while tossing handfuls of salt, or caster sugar, over his shoulder and fingering a kosher rosary.
Sugar admitted to AAIB officials that he should have aborted his first landing attempt, which happened during a thunderstorm and he was unable to see ‘sweet fuck all’.
The Air Accident Investigation Branch (AAIB) has published a report into the crash, which made a total bollocks of the Cirrus aircraft and destroyed two blocks of council flats and a double-decker bus.
However, Sir Alan and his passenger, Bonjella de Chlamydia, were unharmed in the incident alongside Barton airfield when they activated their ejector seats, coming to land safely outside a nearby McDonald’s Chew n Spew outlet.
The AAIB report, termed an “utter whitewash” by certain critics and news reporters, stated : "As the aircraft turned onto the final approach, the visibility deteriorated, and the breeze shifted, becoming a violent tail wind.
The pilot lost sight of the far end of the runway in the poor visibility, and touched down in the middle of the dual carriageway bordering the airfield. Conscious of the risk of skidding on the potholed road, he panicked and jammed on the brakes.
The aircraft then ran off the road into a rough area of long grass and ended up embedded in a block of flats. Both occupants vacated the aircraft without difficulty or injury by utilizing their ejector seats.”
Sugar was visiting Manchester to attend the opening of an exhibition displaying his personal priceless collection of Pre-Columbian Tupperware at the Metropolitan Museum.
He later accompanied personal assistant Bonjella to the city centre branch of W.H. Smuts for a book signing engagement to publicise her recently-released travelogue “Across the Samarkand Desert with Mother Teresa’s Brother”.
stop press: The AAIB have now informed Sugar he’s fired.
The famously-cantankerous Apprentice star walked away from the light aircraft calamity with no more than a big brown stain down the arse of his trousers when it skidded along the grass verge of the dual carriageway opposite Barton Airport in Manchester.
Sir Alan, 161, who started on the road to fame and fortune as an apprentice conker stringer, laughed off reports he had cheated death in the crash while tossing handfuls of salt, or caster sugar, over his shoulder and fingering a kosher rosary.
Sugar admitted to AAIB officials that he should have aborted his first landing attempt, which happened during a thunderstorm and he was unable to see ‘sweet fuck all’.
The Air Accident Investigation Branch (AAIB) has published a report into the crash, which made a total bollocks of the Cirrus aircraft and destroyed two blocks of council flats and a double-decker bus.
However, Sir Alan and his passenger, Bonjella de Chlamydia, were unharmed in the incident alongside Barton airfield when they activated their ejector seats, coming to land safely outside a nearby McDonald’s Chew n Spew outlet.
The AAIB report, termed an “utter whitewash” by certain critics and news reporters, stated : "As the aircraft turned onto the final approach, the visibility deteriorated, and the breeze shifted, becoming a violent tail wind.
The pilot lost sight of the far end of the runway in the poor visibility, and touched down in the middle of the dual carriageway bordering the airfield. Conscious of the risk of skidding on the potholed road, he panicked and jammed on the brakes.
The aircraft then ran off the road into a rough area of long grass and ended up embedded in a block of flats. Both occupants vacated the aircraft without difficulty or injury by utilizing their ejector seats.”
Sugar was visiting Manchester to attend the opening of an exhibition displaying his personal priceless collection of Pre-Columbian Tupperware at the Metropolitan Museum.
He later accompanied personal assistant Bonjella to the city centre branch of W.H. Smuts for a book signing engagement to publicise her recently-released travelogue “Across the Samarkand Desert with Mother Teresa’s Brother”.
stop press: The AAIB have now informed Sugar he’s fired.
Saturday, 11 October 2008
Barbed Wire Banned After Thief Scratched
Gardeners at Smegmadale’s Sunnysideup Allotments have been ordered by the local authorities to remove the barbed wire capping fences around their respective lots due a teenage vegetable thief filing a personal injury claim against the district council after scratching his arm while stealing a cucumber.
Vince Scrunt, a fifteen-year-old schoolboy studying for a GCSE in Advanced Vandalism at Smegmadale’s Asbo Central High, told reporters “Look at me fuckin’ arm like, a bleedin’ big scratch right down the side an’ through the middle of me nude Jade Goody tattoo. All I wanted woz a cucumber to give me bitch one wiv as I ‘ad a spot of brewer’s droop after the fifteen pints of Stella I’d supped.”
“Anyways, we woz up at the back of the allotments ‘avin’ a good old grope in the dark like and the bitch is all ‘ot an’ juicy an’ beggin’ me for it an’ I can’t get me cock up, so I tells ‘er I’m gonna ‘ave a slash an’ goes an’ reaches over the fence to grab a bleedin’ cucumber to give ‘er one wiv as she’s ‘alf pissed an’ wouldn’t know the difference. Anyways I grabs the thingy like an’ scratches me arm on the effin’ barbed wire these gardenin’ twats ‘ave put up round the veggies.”
“It’s not effin’ on, I woz at the bleedin’ A & E ‘alf the friggin’ night getting’ an elastoplast for it, fuckin’ blood everywhere, all down the front of me best Amy Shitehouse t-shirt. Me solicitor reckons I might be psychologically traumatised too, wotever the fuck that means.”
However, Jarvis Cobbledork, a former cormorant plucker and spokesman for the allotment gardeners, told the media “It’s utter madness, these young hoodie thugs come scrounging and sneaking around here at nights stealing our veggies and the tools out of our sheds and the council is saying we can’t safeguard our property?”
Smegmadale’s Sunnysideup Allotments gained fame last year when they were featured on the BBC’s Gardener’s World as a prize-winning source of organic produce such as octane-boosted cabbage, decaffeinated broccoli, unleaded onions, CPF-free carrots and their unique hybrid Smegmadale dwarf coconuts.
Smegmadale police investigating the ‘scratching incident’ yesterday confiscated a M60 machine gun and a grenade launcher from the gardening shed of allotment owner Wilf Alzheimer, a retired donkeystone vendor, and further cautioned pensioner Des Wankworth over the dangers of breeding razorback piranhas and Siamese farting fish in the moat around his vegetable patch.
Police forensics officers are currently studying blood and tissue samples taken from the bamboo punji spears lining the bottoms of several fall traps dug in the allotment’s pathways. The partially decomposed bodies of an undisclosed number of shell-suit clad chavs were recovered from the site’s communal compost heap and taken to Smegmadale’s Millennium Mortuary to determine the causes of death.
Inspector Harry Minge informed the media that a report will be passed to the Director of Public Prosecutions following the allotment’s impounded dried blood and bone meal fertiliser stocks testing positive for traces of both human and Neanderthal DNA.
Vince Scrunt, a fifteen-year-old schoolboy studying for a GCSE in Advanced Vandalism at Smegmadale’s Asbo Central High, told reporters “Look at me fuckin’ arm like, a bleedin’ big scratch right down the side an’ through the middle of me nude Jade Goody tattoo. All I wanted woz a cucumber to give me bitch one wiv as I ‘ad a spot of brewer’s droop after the fifteen pints of Stella I’d supped.”
“Anyways, we woz up at the back of the allotments ‘avin’ a good old grope in the dark like and the bitch is all ‘ot an’ juicy an’ beggin’ me for it an’ I can’t get me cock up, so I tells ‘er I’m gonna ‘ave a slash an’ goes an’ reaches over the fence to grab a bleedin’ cucumber to give ‘er one wiv as she’s ‘alf pissed an’ wouldn’t know the difference. Anyways I grabs the thingy like an’ scratches me arm on the effin’ barbed wire these gardenin’ twats ‘ave put up round the veggies.”
“It’s not effin’ on, I woz at the bleedin’ A & E ‘alf the friggin’ night getting’ an elastoplast for it, fuckin’ blood everywhere, all down the front of me best Amy Shitehouse t-shirt. Me solicitor reckons I might be psychologically traumatised too, wotever the fuck that means.”
However, Jarvis Cobbledork, a former cormorant plucker and spokesman for the allotment gardeners, told the media “It’s utter madness, these young hoodie thugs come scrounging and sneaking around here at nights stealing our veggies and the tools out of our sheds and the council is saying we can’t safeguard our property?”
Smegmadale’s Sunnysideup Allotments gained fame last year when they were featured on the BBC’s Gardener’s World as a prize-winning source of organic produce such as octane-boosted cabbage, decaffeinated broccoli, unleaded onions, CPF-free carrots and their unique hybrid Smegmadale dwarf coconuts.
Smegmadale police investigating the ‘scratching incident’ yesterday confiscated a M60 machine gun and a grenade launcher from the gardening shed of allotment owner Wilf Alzheimer, a retired donkeystone vendor, and further cautioned pensioner Des Wankworth over the dangers of breeding razorback piranhas and Siamese farting fish in the moat around his vegetable patch.
Police forensics officers are currently studying blood and tissue samples taken from the bamboo punji spears lining the bottoms of several fall traps dug in the allotment’s pathways. The partially decomposed bodies of an undisclosed number of shell-suit clad chavs were recovered from the site’s communal compost heap and taken to Smegmadale’s Millennium Mortuary to determine the causes of death.
Inspector Harry Minge informed the media that a report will be passed to the Director of Public Prosecutions following the allotment’s impounded dried blood and bone meal fertiliser stocks testing positive for traces of both human and Neanderthal DNA.
Santa Claus Vacancy at JobCentre Plus
Job Title FATHER CHRISTMAS / SANTA CLAUS
Ref : ALU /62734
Location : Lapland based / Worldwide distribution network
Hours : Christmas Eve : Dusk til dawn
Wage : MEETS NATIONAL MINIMUM WAGE
Work Pattern : Night shift
Employer : Grotty Grottos Ltd
Pension : ? Don’t be silly
Duration : One night per annum
Description :
As Father Christmas you will be required to hold quality interviews with children visiting your grotto, sit them on your lap and give each child a present (?) then have your photograph taken with them.
If you can grow a long white beard in a few days and see yourself as Father Christmas in this festive, credit-crunch season we would love to hear from you. Male and female applicants are welcomed.
A full Father Christmas costume will be provided.
This is a fixed term contract for November and December.
Ideal position for anyone with church choir or Boy Scout experience.
Successful applicants are required to provide an enhanced disclosure from the national police records bureau stating they have no past convictions for child molesting or engaging in sex with animals. Disclosure expense will be met by employer.
Persons already on the sex offenders register are not eligible to apply.
Experience of working with reindeer and a sleigh and climbing down chimney stacks is desirable but training will be provided for the right applicant.
See www.dwp.gov.uk for more information or email a CV and covering letter to jobs@grottygrottos.co.uk or apply on line at www.grottygrottos.com
How to apply :
You can apply for this job by telephoning the North Pole / toll-free number 011111 1111111 or 01111 11111111 and asking for Harry the Elf.
Ref : ALU /62734
Location : Lapland based / Worldwide distribution network
Hours : Christmas Eve : Dusk til dawn
Wage : MEETS NATIONAL MINIMUM WAGE
Work Pattern : Night shift
Employer : Grotty Grottos Ltd
Pension : ? Don’t be silly
Duration : One night per annum
Description :
As Father Christmas you will be required to hold quality interviews with children visiting your grotto, sit them on your lap and give each child a present (?) then have your photograph taken with them.
If you can grow a long white beard in a few days and see yourself as Father Christmas in this festive, credit-crunch season we would love to hear from you. Male and female applicants are welcomed.
A full Father Christmas costume will be provided.
This is a fixed term contract for November and December.
Ideal position for anyone with church choir or Boy Scout experience.
Successful applicants are required to provide an enhanced disclosure from the national police records bureau stating they have no past convictions for child molesting or engaging in sex with animals. Disclosure expense will be met by employer.
Persons already on the sex offenders register are not eligible to apply.
Experience of working with reindeer and a sleigh and climbing down chimney stacks is desirable but training will be provided for the right applicant.
See www.dwp.gov.uk for more information or email a CV and covering letter to jobs@grottygrottos.co.uk or apply on line at www.grottygrottos.com
How to apply :
You can apply for this job by telephoning the North Pole / toll-free number 011111 1111111 or 01111 11111111 and asking for Harry the Elf.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
'Unbreakable' Contestants Sue Channel Five
The Channel Five mega viewer-pulling sadistic reality television show ‘Unbreakable’ is being sued in a class action suit by a group of masochistic celebrity contestants after several actually ended up ‘Broken’.
Ross Crunt, who plays the resident hardman character ‘Fuckwit’ in the BBC’s popular ‘Bellenders’ series, was hospitalised after a live porcupine was rammed up his rear passage in a recent Unbreakable episode, and swallowing four gallons of syrup of figs, plus undergoing a bisacodyl laxative enema, failed to force it out again.
Consulting proctologist Dr. Arthur Turdprodder advised Crunt that it was a thing he was going to have to learn to live with, a bit like a tapeworm with spines.
Chantelle Slagrat, the celebrity slapper presenter of More 4’s popular weekend ‘Get Yer Tits Out’ quiz show, contracted a virulent dose of incurable reptilian clap when she was restrained in a leather bondage harness and forced to copulate with an alligator in Unbreakable’s ‘Shag a Croc’ feature.
Transvestite star of Sky Digital’s “Bollocks or Boobs”, Sinead Slackbladder, a former jockstrap model, had the nipples of her / his (?) massive hormone-induced 42 DD breasts bitten off during a frantic naked swim across a pool of piranha-infested custard while being harassed by machine-gun fire.
Celebrity stuntman Lenny Dorkmonger, an ex-aardvark juggler from Luton-on-Sea, ended up in a wheelchair after his attempt to complete Unbreakable’s Cambodian Hopscotch challenge resulted in him treading on several landmines and requiring a new pair of feet.
Sir Dinsdale Killjoy, Chairperson of the UK’s television watchdog body Ofcom, told media reporters that "Unbreakable’s own promotional motto of 'Pain is great to watch' is, in itself, a damning indictment and sufficient reason for banning the programme. The show’s content is simply unacceptable to be broadcast during Childrens’ Hour or have excerpts shown on Blue Peter.”
He further commented “How can successive batches of eight people be so stupid and driven to compete, and claim their five minutes of global fame, that they’ll stand next to an exploding mongoose, get shit on from a dizzy height by a set of dysentery-stricken badgers, then drink the contents of a Turkish urinal for no more than Pride and to prove to themselves that Pain is Glory.”
Lionel Hugefee QC, barrister for the claimants, when interviewed by reporters for his opinion on why the contestants volunteered for the show, replied “Who might accurately assess the mental aberrations of lunatics, apart from the fact they’re totally fucked in the head."
"If they had another brain cell between them, I venture it would die of loneliness."
"However, for me personally, it’s the perfect money-spinning transition from entertainment to sado-masochism, and a most lucrative piece of litigation.”
The class action suit to sue Unbreakable was organised and filed by actress Rachel Snott, who played the alluring and mysterious ‘Glenda Wankrat’ in Sky’s long-running soap opera ‘Smegmadale’.
The sexy artiste was a guest contestant on Unbreakable earlier this year.
After agreeing with a dare to be locked in a pillory with a sack over her head, she was debagged and buggered by Bonker, the programme producer’s Great Dane.
This provoked bouts of hilarious delight and laughter from the studio audience who gathered round and pulled the sack off her head then poked her eyes out with sharp sticks while urinating on her feet.
Tristan Madeupname, a former Big Issue salesperson, and now a leading character actor in the BBC4 period extravaganza ‘Beachy Head Revisited’, suffered a nervous breakdown and caught a rare type of medieval plague when he appeared on Unbreakable.
“I gets strapped down on a scaffolding plank set between two chairs like, wiv me ‘ead tilted back”, Tristan informed reporters. “It’s gonna be a waterboardin’ session, I sez to meself. I can ‘andle that real easy. Good for me tough guy actin’ image on the telly like, innit eh.”
“Anyways, I’m lyin’ there all ‘elpless like, just waitin’ for a couple of the resident thugs to shove a towel across me face an’ start pourin’ water over it. Next thing in walks Jade fuckin’ Goody, leans over and shoves ‘er bleedin’ tongue down me throat, then hitches ‘er skirt up, spreads ‘er legs an’ jams ‘er crotch right over me face an’ sez “Eat me, bitch boy.”
“I ain’t kiddin’ mate, it woz bleedin’ ‘orrible. I’ve muffed plenty of slappers and some evil snatch in me time but this was worse than fuckin’ gross. Just as she spreads ‘er thighs over me face about ‘alf a dozen bats flew out of ‘er cunt, then she’s got ‘old of me ‘air and jams’ me gob right up against ‘er twat like. Next thing I’m bleedin’ suffocatin’ cos me ‘ead’s right inside ‘er stinkin’ cunt. It’s all womb, gloom an’ effin’ doom from where I’m at.”
“I'm just about to pass out wiv 'a avin' me 'ead rammed against 'er G-spot when she ‘as an orgasm and pulls me ‘ead out an’ I’m covered in slime and retchin’ out a gobfull of bleedin’ maggots.”
“I reckons I’m gonna be in therapy for effin’ years after that experience.”
A Channel Five spokesman told the media that all the challenges were supervised by torture experts from Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq and doubly reviewed by the programme’s resident medical specialists from the illustrious Harold Shipman Institute for Medical Excellence.
He further explained that all the volunteers had a full mental assessment before participating in the show to certify they were already brain dead.
Ofcom announced today that Unbreakable’s scheduled Auschwitz Holocaust Holiday feature of the show, in which contestants would be gassed with Xyclon B while taking a shower, and then cremated, has been put on hold until next year.
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of sado-masochism as it was written according to the dictates of the Spanish Inquisition.
Ross Crunt, who plays the resident hardman character ‘Fuckwit’ in the BBC’s popular ‘Bellenders’ series, was hospitalised after a live porcupine was rammed up his rear passage in a recent Unbreakable episode, and swallowing four gallons of syrup of figs, plus undergoing a bisacodyl laxative enema, failed to force it out again.
Consulting proctologist Dr. Arthur Turdprodder advised Crunt that it was a thing he was going to have to learn to live with, a bit like a tapeworm with spines.
Chantelle Slagrat, the celebrity slapper presenter of More 4’s popular weekend ‘Get Yer Tits Out’ quiz show, contracted a virulent dose of incurable reptilian clap when she was restrained in a leather bondage harness and forced to copulate with an alligator in Unbreakable’s ‘Shag a Croc’ feature.
Transvestite star of Sky Digital’s “Bollocks or Boobs”, Sinead Slackbladder, a former jockstrap model, had the nipples of her / his (?) massive hormone-induced 42 DD breasts bitten off during a frantic naked swim across a pool of piranha-infested custard while being harassed by machine-gun fire.
Celebrity stuntman Lenny Dorkmonger, an ex-aardvark juggler from Luton-on-Sea, ended up in a wheelchair after his attempt to complete Unbreakable’s Cambodian Hopscotch challenge resulted in him treading on several landmines and requiring a new pair of feet.
Sir Dinsdale Killjoy, Chairperson of the UK’s television watchdog body Ofcom, told media reporters that "Unbreakable’s own promotional motto of 'Pain is great to watch' is, in itself, a damning indictment and sufficient reason for banning the programme. The show’s content is simply unacceptable to be broadcast during Childrens’ Hour or have excerpts shown on Blue Peter.”
He further commented “How can successive batches of eight people be so stupid and driven to compete, and claim their five minutes of global fame, that they’ll stand next to an exploding mongoose, get shit on from a dizzy height by a set of dysentery-stricken badgers, then drink the contents of a Turkish urinal for no more than Pride and to prove to themselves that Pain is Glory.”
Lionel Hugefee QC, barrister for the claimants, when interviewed by reporters for his opinion on why the contestants volunteered for the show, replied “Who might accurately assess the mental aberrations of lunatics, apart from the fact they’re totally fucked in the head."
"If they had another brain cell between them, I venture it would die of loneliness."
"However, for me personally, it’s the perfect money-spinning transition from entertainment to sado-masochism, and a most lucrative piece of litigation.”
The class action suit to sue Unbreakable was organised and filed by actress Rachel Snott, who played the alluring and mysterious ‘Glenda Wankrat’ in Sky’s long-running soap opera ‘Smegmadale’.
The sexy artiste was a guest contestant on Unbreakable earlier this year.
After agreeing with a dare to be locked in a pillory with a sack over her head, she was debagged and buggered by Bonker, the programme producer’s Great Dane.
This provoked bouts of hilarious delight and laughter from the studio audience who gathered round and pulled the sack off her head then poked her eyes out with sharp sticks while urinating on her feet.
Tristan Madeupname, a former Big Issue salesperson, and now a leading character actor in the BBC4 period extravaganza ‘Beachy Head Revisited’, suffered a nervous breakdown and caught a rare type of medieval plague when he appeared on Unbreakable.
“I gets strapped down on a scaffolding plank set between two chairs like, wiv me ‘ead tilted back”, Tristan informed reporters. “It’s gonna be a waterboardin’ session, I sez to meself. I can ‘andle that real easy. Good for me tough guy actin’ image on the telly like, innit eh.”
“Anyways, I’m lyin’ there all ‘elpless like, just waitin’ for a couple of the resident thugs to shove a towel across me face an’ start pourin’ water over it. Next thing in walks Jade fuckin’ Goody, leans over and shoves ‘er bleedin’ tongue down me throat, then hitches ‘er skirt up, spreads ‘er legs an’ jams ‘er crotch right over me face an’ sez “Eat me, bitch boy.”
“I ain’t kiddin’ mate, it woz bleedin’ ‘orrible. I’ve muffed plenty of slappers and some evil snatch in me time but this was worse than fuckin’ gross. Just as she spreads ‘er thighs over me face about ‘alf a dozen bats flew out of ‘er cunt, then she’s got ‘old of me ‘air and jams’ me gob right up against ‘er twat like. Next thing I’m bleedin’ suffocatin’ cos me ‘ead’s right inside ‘er stinkin’ cunt. It’s all womb, gloom an’ effin’ doom from where I’m at.”
“I'm just about to pass out wiv 'a avin' me 'ead rammed against 'er G-spot when she ‘as an orgasm and pulls me ‘ead out an’ I’m covered in slime and retchin’ out a gobfull of bleedin’ maggots.”
“I reckons I’m gonna be in therapy for effin’ years after that experience.”
A Channel Five spokesman told the media that all the challenges were supervised by torture experts from Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq and doubly reviewed by the programme’s resident medical specialists from the illustrious Harold Shipman Institute for Medical Excellence.
He further explained that all the volunteers had a full mental assessment before participating in the show to certify they were already brain dead.
Ofcom announced today that Unbreakable’s scheduled Auschwitz Holocaust Holiday feature of the show, in which contestants would be gassed with Xyclon B while taking a shower, and then cremated, has been put on hold until next year.
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of sado-masochism as it was written according to the dictates of the Spanish Inquisition.
Saturday, 4 October 2008
Brown Ministerial Reshuffle: Hellboy Returns to Cabinet
Gordon Brown is expected to complete his ministerial reshuffle later, with New Labour’s notorious Scandal Kid, Peter (watch yer arses) Mandelson, returning to the cabinet as head of the Ministry of Corruption, which is to be relocated to the Millennium Dome.
Obviously Labour are now so far up shitcreek without a paddle they’ve passed scraping the bottom of the barrel and are now scooping out the crap from underneath it.
So, The Prince of Darkness, described by many as a champagne socialist, is out of the Brussels Buggery Club and back in Westminster. Good going for a politician who’s been fired more times than a gunslinger’s pistol.
Sir Dilbert Dorking, Conservative MP for Dorking-on-the-Wold, remembers Mandelson from his schooldays, where he gained a reputation for hanging around the toilets and cheating at conkers.
Sir Dilbert reflected on a few choice Hellboy anecdotes for the media reporters. “Later, when he got into Parliament, he used to wander around the Lower House leaving slime trails like a snail and anyone who shook his hand always counted their fingers after. So, as it’s third time lucky for ducky, maybe, I have no doubts he’ll be dancing a jig, or perhaps, more aptly, a Gay Gordon.”
“Joking aside, having Hellboy back in the Cabinet is a super plus for we Tories. Mandelson can’t help fucking up everything he touches, just like the useless Brown and Darling are doing, hence we’re a dead cert’ bet to win the next election. He’s bound to pull another Robinson loan or Hinduja passport stunt before too long”
Renown throughout government for his unqualified arrogance and allowing ego to surpass intellect, Mandelson is a past master in the arts of self-delusion and deceit who couldn’t tell the truth if he didn’t have a lie ready.
However, PM Gordon Brown told the media he needed "serious people for serious times" and it was in the "national interest" to bring in Mandelson, even if he is a prize twat, because of his past experience in foul play and political back-stabbing.
Brown said he wanted to "reinvent government" to cope with the major fuck-ups Labour had caused with the housing market, financial instability, oil and food price rises, and running illegal wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
"Mandy’s built up a reputation over the last few years as someone who knows where most of the skeletons are buried or which wardrobes they’re rattling in, so he can twist a few arms and get shit done. He might have earned a reputation under Tony for being the Doctor of Spin n Sin but New Labour needs his disreputable talents right now.”
Former cabinet clot David (what scandal?) Blunkett, who holds the actual New Labour record for being fired from government office, described Mandelson’s appointment as a farsighted move. “Even a blind old git like me can see where Gordon’s going with this, can’t we Sadie.”
Denise Scrunter, Chief Dogwanker for the Liberal Democrats, opined to reporters "Resurrecting a slimy shitbag like Mandelson from the political graveyard is not going to breathe new life into Gordon Brown's zombie government."
Other key dildos and dunces in the political graveyard reshuffle include Geoff ‘the Loon’ Hoon, who has taken over from Ruth Kelly as Minister for Ferrets, with Nick Brown returning to the cabinet as Chief Flagellator.
Two of the Miliband triplets, Eddie and Freddie, have been exiled to the back benches for being a pair of back-stabbing pricks, with the Ministry of Climate Fuck-ups going to Chancellor of the Exchequer Alistair Darling now the Treasury has been bought by India’s famously corrupt Hinduja sisters.
Maggie Beckett takes over Carol Flint’s affordable housing portfolio as Minister of Tents and Bivouacs, with Ms. Flint leaving government to pursue a career as a pole dancer.
Lord Levy will regain his Blairite post as Chief Bagman, with Keith Vaz taking up the reins at the Ministry of Backhanders and former Home Secretary David Blunkett being assigned the newly-created Ministry of Small Dogs.
To close with an optimistic note, bookmakers William Hill are already offering odds of 100/1 on Mandelson resigning or being fired again before the next election.
Allergy warning : this article was written in Machiavellian Font 12 and may contain traces of conspiracy and intrigue.
Obviously Labour are now so far up shitcreek without a paddle they’ve passed scraping the bottom of the barrel and are now scooping out the crap from underneath it.
So, The Prince of Darkness, described by many as a champagne socialist, is out of the Brussels Buggery Club and back in Westminster. Good going for a politician who’s been fired more times than a gunslinger’s pistol.
Sir Dilbert Dorking, Conservative MP for Dorking-on-the-Wold, remembers Mandelson from his schooldays, where he gained a reputation for hanging around the toilets and cheating at conkers.
Sir Dilbert reflected on a few choice Hellboy anecdotes for the media reporters. “Later, when he got into Parliament, he used to wander around the Lower House leaving slime trails like a snail and anyone who shook his hand always counted their fingers after. So, as it’s third time lucky for ducky, maybe, I have no doubts he’ll be dancing a jig, or perhaps, more aptly, a Gay Gordon.”
“Joking aside, having Hellboy back in the Cabinet is a super plus for we Tories. Mandelson can’t help fucking up everything he touches, just like the useless Brown and Darling are doing, hence we’re a dead cert’ bet to win the next election. He’s bound to pull another Robinson loan or Hinduja passport stunt before too long”
Renown throughout government for his unqualified arrogance and allowing ego to surpass intellect, Mandelson is a past master in the arts of self-delusion and deceit who couldn’t tell the truth if he didn’t have a lie ready.
However, PM Gordon Brown told the media he needed "serious people for serious times" and it was in the "national interest" to bring in Mandelson, even if he is a prize twat, because of his past experience in foul play and political back-stabbing.
Brown said he wanted to "reinvent government" to cope with the major fuck-ups Labour had caused with the housing market, financial instability, oil and food price rises, and running illegal wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
"Mandy’s built up a reputation over the last few years as someone who knows where most of the skeletons are buried or which wardrobes they’re rattling in, so he can twist a few arms and get shit done. He might have earned a reputation under Tony for being the Doctor of Spin n Sin but New Labour needs his disreputable talents right now.”
Former cabinet clot David (what scandal?) Blunkett, who holds the actual New Labour record for being fired from government office, described Mandelson’s appointment as a farsighted move. “Even a blind old git like me can see where Gordon’s going with this, can’t we Sadie.”
Denise Scrunter, Chief Dogwanker for the Liberal Democrats, opined to reporters "Resurrecting a slimy shitbag like Mandelson from the political graveyard is not going to breathe new life into Gordon Brown's zombie government."
Other key dildos and dunces in the political graveyard reshuffle include Geoff ‘the Loon’ Hoon, who has taken over from Ruth Kelly as Minister for Ferrets, with Nick Brown returning to the cabinet as Chief Flagellator.
Two of the Miliband triplets, Eddie and Freddie, have been exiled to the back benches for being a pair of back-stabbing pricks, with the Ministry of Climate Fuck-ups going to Chancellor of the Exchequer Alistair Darling now the Treasury has been bought by India’s famously corrupt Hinduja sisters.
Maggie Beckett takes over Carol Flint’s affordable housing portfolio as Minister of Tents and Bivouacs, with Ms. Flint leaving government to pursue a career as a pole dancer.
Lord Levy will regain his Blairite post as Chief Bagman, with Keith Vaz taking up the reins at the Ministry of Backhanders and former Home Secretary David Blunkett being assigned the newly-created Ministry of Small Dogs.
To close with an optimistic note, bookmakers William Hill are already offering odds of 100/1 on Mandelson resigning or being fired again before the next election.
Allergy warning : this article was written in Machiavellian Font 12 and may contain traces of conspiracy and intrigue.
Friday, 3 October 2008
School Axes Spelling Tests due Student Distress
Children at the Smegmadale-on-Sea Church of Latter Day Morons Primary School will no longer be presented with a short list of words to learn each week as teachers believe it leaves them distressed and feeling like failures.
Teenagers attending Smegmadale Asbo Central Comprehensive reacted to the news with enthusiasm and built a huge bonfire on the sports field with copies of the school’s Oxford dictionaries, then impaled Headmistress Gladys Fawkes on the top.
However angry parents’ groups from the bordering Smegmadale Sink or Swim Estate later confronted a charred and smouldering Ms. Fawkes, stating they were actually at a loss for something to say over the decision.
Acting deputy-head of Asbo Central, Glenda Scabtwat told parents and reporters that imposing spelling assignments on children as homework was generating unnecessary distress and causing an increase in their individual drug addiction and drinking problems.
“These children need to relax after a taxing day at school, not be concentrating on the nuances or accuracies of the English lexicon while they’re playing games on Xbox or posting rude photos of each other on Facebook.”
”Personally I’d like to see them out in the parks after school hours, enjoying themselves, groping their girlfriends, or each other if they’re that way inclined. Getting some sunshine and fresh air, sharing a bottle of White Lightning and passing a bifta round. Having a quick shag in the bushes, safe-sex sort of course.”
“That’s the type of social interaction I’m keen on creating for Smegmadale’s children.”
A freshly-extinguished, albeit dripping, Ms. Fawkes, wrapped in a stylish Aztec print asbestos blanket, added to Ms. Scabtwat’s statement.
“We still teach spelling in school classes as normal, as is demanded by the literacy curriculum.
But let’s be honest, are any of our Smegmadale charges ever going to pursue an academic career and put their word power to work? Of course not.
They don’t need an extensive written vocabulary to claim jobseeker’s allowance and their DSS or hold up the local Stop n Rob or deal a few grams of smoke or snort.”
A shocked and disappointed Norman Babel, chairman of Smegmadale’s Campaign for Real Education and current holder of the number one spot on the local sex offenders register, had this to say to the press regarding the cancelling of the spelling homework assignments, “Personally, I’m shocked and disappointed, and stuck for bleedin’ words.”
Answering a quoted report from the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority, which showed that most school leavers were unable to spell such basic everyday words as ‘fuck’ or ‘off’, Ms. Fawkes responded “How many burglars or car thieves do you know with degrees in English Literature?”
Smegmadale Council’s head of improvement, Ms. Ingrid Clunt, a former Ukranian scaffolder, informed the media “It’s up to the indy-vid-yual skools to de-side like if dey wanna yuse spellin’ tests or not, init, eh, like yer know. Gorra a fag I can borra?”
In a related incident, the teenage Smegmadale Slang Gang broke into Threshers off-licence last night and held an impromptu drunken party to celebrate the spelling tests abolition, later setting fire to the town’s new Cash Converters Shopping Mall, causing an estimated £17-worth of damage.
Allergy warning : this article was typed on recycled dictionary pages and may contain traces of dyslexia.
Teenagers attending Smegmadale Asbo Central Comprehensive reacted to the news with enthusiasm and built a huge bonfire on the sports field with copies of the school’s Oxford dictionaries, then impaled Headmistress Gladys Fawkes on the top.
However angry parents’ groups from the bordering Smegmadale Sink or Swim Estate later confronted a charred and smouldering Ms. Fawkes, stating they were actually at a loss for something to say over the decision.
Acting deputy-head of Asbo Central, Glenda Scabtwat told parents and reporters that imposing spelling assignments on children as homework was generating unnecessary distress and causing an increase in their individual drug addiction and drinking problems.
“These children need to relax after a taxing day at school, not be concentrating on the nuances or accuracies of the English lexicon while they’re playing games on Xbox or posting rude photos of each other on Facebook.”
”Personally I’d like to see them out in the parks after school hours, enjoying themselves, groping their girlfriends, or each other if they’re that way inclined. Getting some sunshine and fresh air, sharing a bottle of White Lightning and passing a bifta round. Having a quick shag in the bushes, safe-sex sort of course.”
“That’s the type of social interaction I’m keen on creating for Smegmadale’s children.”
A freshly-extinguished, albeit dripping, Ms. Fawkes, wrapped in a stylish Aztec print asbestos blanket, added to Ms. Scabtwat’s statement.
“We still teach spelling in school classes as normal, as is demanded by the literacy curriculum.
But let’s be honest, are any of our Smegmadale charges ever going to pursue an academic career and put their word power to work? Of course not.
They don’t need an extensive written vocabulary to claim jobseeker’s allowance and their DSS or hold up the local Stop n Rob or deal a few grams of smoke or snort.”
A shocked and disappointed Norman Babel, chairman of Smegmadale’s Campaign for Real Education and current holder of the number one spot on the local sex offenders register, had this to say to the press regarding the cancelling of the spelling homework assignments, “Personally, I’m shocked and disappointed, and stuck for bleedin’ words.”
Answering a quoted report from the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority, which showed that most school leavers were unable to spell such basic everyday words as ‘fuck’ or ‘off’, Ms. Fawkes responded “How many burglars or car thieves do you know with degrees in English Literature?”
Smegmadale Council’s head of improvement, Ms. Ingrid Clunt, a former Ukranian scaffolder, informed the media “It’s up to the indy-vid-yual skools to de-side like if dey wanna yuse spellin’ tests or not, init, eh, like yer know. Gorra a fag I can borra?”
In a related incident, the teenage Smegmadale Slang Gang broke into Threshers off-licence last night and held an impromptu drunken party to celebrate the spelling tests abolition, later setting fire to the town’s new Cash Converters Shopping Mall, causing an estimated £17-worth of damage.
Allergy warning : this article was typed on recycled dictionary pages and may contain traces of dyslexia.
Thursday, 2 October 2008
Muslim Forklift Driver Sues Tesco over Alcohol Handling
A Saudi Arabian immigrant from Derby-on-Sea is suing Dame Shitty Potter’s supermarket monopoly Tesco for religious discrimination after he was asked to handle crates of alcohol against his spiritual beliefs.
Mohammed Ahmed, a former Mecca Ballroom pole dancer, now a resident of Oasis Crescent in Derby’s popular Sandcastle Estate, also accused Tesco of victimisation and harassment during a British taxpayer-funded employment tribunal hearing lasting three months.
Ahmed, originally employed as a trainee rat-twatter at the firm's Piginfield warehouse, was promoted to the position of forklift driver in December last year.
However, Ahmed refused to use his forklift truck to move cases of beer, wines or spirits because it was against his religious principles as a muslim and asked to be found other work; preferably something that involved sitting in an office with his feet up and reading newspapers.
Warehouse supervisor, Steve Snotts, allegedly shouted at him and said "Are you takin’ the effin’ piss or what, Mohammed?” which apparently upset Mr. Ahmed’s delicate Islamic sensibilities and made him cry.
The claimant, who grew up in Saudi Arabia and moved to Derby in 2006, now works for a city agency as a registered pigeon strangler, and lodged his grievance with Tesco in February but said he was treated unfavourably as a result.
He told the tribunal that Tesco line manager Debbie Twatscratcher then assigned him to the Spam section of the warehouse and again he refused to handle the products as they contained large quantities of dead pig.
Giving evidence on behalf of Tesco’s, Ms. Twatscratcher told the tribunal that Mr. Ahmed had been a proverbial pain in the arse since he was hired.
“Mo’ammed complained that there was nowhere in the staff car park to tie up ‘is camel, then came into work wearin’ steel toe-capped sandals, wiv a bed sheet wrapped around ‘im an’ a red gingham tea towel on ‘is ‘ead, which is in direct breach of company an’ HSE safety clothin’ statutes.”
“Twice every shift ‘e’d stop work for ‘alf an ‘our an’ go an’ kneel down in the corner then start banging ‘is head on the concrete like some loony, an’ ‘olding’ up production summat terrible yer know.”
“I mean, it was very worryin’ for me, bein’ the only woman on shift like an’ ‘avin’ some bloke doin’ this kind of shit, cos yer ‘ear all about these weirdo religious self-flagellant types whippin’ themselves wiv barbed wire an’ stuff an’ stickin’ red chillis up their arses an’ tyin’ ‘eavy iron weights around their cocks an’ what ’ave yer.”
Ahmed’s solicitor, Mr. Moham Mohammed, advised Ms. Twatscratcher and the tribunal that the kneeling and bowing to the ground was a muslim religious custom, performed during prayers, to which Ms. Twatscratcher replied “Why can’t ‘e do ‘is prayers before ‘e goes to bed, like the rest of us do? There’s nowt clever about bangin’ yer ‘ead against the floor like some bleedin’ nutter when yer supposed to be workin’. We don’t bang our ‘eads on the floor when we goes to church on Sunday’s, do we, eh”
Summing up the hearing, Tribunal Judge Seymour Rubenstein conjectured that “Under Islamic Sharia law the hypocritical mantra cited by the muslim Taliban in Afghanistan permits them to grow poppies, and process the opium into heroin, as long as it is sold to non-muslims.”
“Thus, according to that premise, why is it not an acceptable practice for Mr. Ahmed to move crates of alcohol with his forklift truck if it is to be bought and consumed by infidel non-muslims?”
"Case dismissed, Insh'allah."
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of dead pig as it was originally typed on slices of Tesco’s abominable wafer-thin ham.
Mohammed Ahmed, a former Mecca Ballroom pole dancer, now a resident of Oasis Crescent in Derby’s popular Sandcastle Estate, also accused Tesco of victimisation and harassment during a British taxpayer-funded employment tribunal hearing lasting three months.
Ahmed, originally employed as a trainee rat-twatter at the firm's Piginfield warehouse, was promoted to the position of forklift driver in December last year.
However, Ahmed refused to use his forklift truck to move cases of beer, wines or spirits because it was against his religious principles as a muslim and asked to be found other work; preferably something that involved sitting in an office with his feet up and reading newspapers.
Warehouse supervisor, Steve Snotts, allegedly shouted at him and said "Are you takin’ the effin’ piss or what, Mohammed?” which apparently upset Mr. Ahmed’s delicate Islamic sensibilities and made him cry.
The claimant, who grew up in Saudi Arabia and moved to Derby in 2006, now works for a city agency as a registered pigeon strangler, and lodged his grievance with Tesco in February but said he was treated unfavourably as a result.
He told the tribunal that Tesco line manager Debbie Twatscratcher then assigned him to the Spam section of the warehouse and again he refused to handle the products as they contained large quantities of dead pig.
Giving evidence on behalf of Tesco’s, Ms. Twatscratcher told the tribunal that Mr. Ahmed had been a proverbial pain in the arse since he was hired.
“Mo’ammed complained that there was nowhere in the staff car park to tie up ‘is camel, then came into work wearin’ steel toe-capped sandals, wiv a bed sheet wrapped around ‘im an’ a red gingham tea towel on ‘is ‘ead, which is in direct breach of company an’ HSE safety clothin’ statutes.”
“Twice every shift ‘e’d stop work for ‘alf an ‘our an’ go an’ kneel down in the corner then start banging ‘is head on the concrete like some loony, an’ ‘olding’ up production summat terrible yer know.”
“I mean, it was very worryin’ for me, bein’ the only woman on shift like an’ ‘avin’ some bloke doin’ this kind of shit, cos yer ‘ear all about these weirdo religious self-flagellant types whippin’ themselves wiv barbed wire an’ stuff an’ stickin’ red chillis up their arses an’ tyin’ ‘eavy iron weights around their cocks an’ what ’ave yer.”
Ahmed’s solicitor, Mr. Moham Mohammed, advised Ms. Twatscratcher and the tribunal that the kneeling and bowing to the ground was a muslim religious custom, performed during prayers, to which Ms. Twatscratcher replied “Why can’t ‘e do ‘is prayers before ‘e goes to bed, like the rest of us do? There’s nowt clever about bangin’ yer ‘ead against the floor like some bleedin’ nutter when yer supposed to be workin’. We don’t bang our ‘eads on the floor when we goes to church on Sunday’s, do we, eh”
Summing up the hearing, Tribunal Judge Seymour Rubenstein conjectured that “Under Islamic Sharia law the hypocritical mantra cited by the muslim Taliban in Afghanistan permits them to grow poppies, and process the opium into heroin, as long as it is sold to non-muslims.”
“Thus, according to that premise, why is it not an acceptable practice for Mr. Ahmed to move crates of alcohol with his forklift truck if it is to be bought and consumed by infidel non-muslims?”
"Case dismissed, Insh'allah."
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of dead pig as it was originally typed on slices of Tesco’s abominable wafer-thin ham.
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
School Outing Team Rescued from Dales Hellhole
Eleven people have been rescued alive after becoming trapped in a Yorkshire Dales hellhole during bad weather.
Eight teenagers aged 15 from St. Sodom’s School of Latter Day Pederasts in Burnley, Lancashire, were left stranded along with three teachers after becoming lost during sudden rainstorm.
Trekking along in near-zero visibility, they wandered into what they thought was the cave entrance to a pothole known as the Long Churn Pot for shelter.
Unbeknown to them Jade Goody had been out hiking and taken shelter from the storm in the same cave, then decided to have a quick play with herself to pass the time until the weather cleared.
“I wus just lyin’ there on me sleepin’ bag, legs akimbo like an’ diddlin’ me clit’, then I sorta dozes off an’ wakes up with this pullin’ at me pissflaps an’ it feels like I’ve got a monster jackrabbit stuck up me twat,” Ms. Goody told reporters.
Not realising they had squeezed and wriggled blindly into one of the most enormous cunts on Earth, the group quickly grasped the fact they might be trapped and switched on their emergency location transponder beacon.
Yorkshire police picked up the beacon’s signal and immediately initiated a helicopter search and rescue operation, tracking down the signal’s source to Long Churn Pot, where they realised the hikers had become trapped up Ms. Goody’s gargantuan vagina.
Summoning a team of Leeds-based potholers, with celebrity gynaecologist Dr. Muff to lead them, police initiated a rescue operation lasting several hours which resulted in the trapped hikers being liberated shortly before nightfall.
The eleven hikers were treated for hypothermia at Leeds Infirmary, with all receiving massive doses of antibiotics and tetanus jabs to counter the myriad of possible infections and diseases they may have contracted while trapped in Ms. Goody’s snatch.
One boy who was overcome by noxious fumes and transferred to the intense care unit was later allowed home.
St. Sodom’s School teacher Angus McFudger, leader of the trapped hiking team, told the media “It was absolute hell in there. I thought we were in a cave with all the stalactites hanging down and slime everywhere. The stink was horrible, but on reflection now we know why it smelled like a fishmonger’s gutting block.”
Following the rescue operation Ms. Goody was advised by both North Yorkshire police and her gynaecologist to have a barred gate or steel grating fitted over the entrance of her vagina while out hiking to prevent similar incidents from occurring in the future.
Rumours that a flock of sheep and two horses which went missing during the same storm might have suffered a similar fate as the school expedition have been dismissed as “unfounded utter rubbish” by Ms. Goody’s publicist.
“Jade went for a full internal examination after her return from Yorkshire and had a vaginal douche performed by the local fire brigade this morning.”
“There was nothing else inside, apart from what remained of her pet poodle that disappeared one night last week.”
Allergy warning : this article may be infected with a variety of STD's and should only be read while wearing a condom.
Eight teenagers aged 15 from St. Sodom’s School of Latter Day Pederasts in Burnley, Lancashire, were left stranded along with three teachers after becoming lost during sudden rainstorm.
Trekking along in near-zero visibility, they wandered into what they thought was the cave entrance to a pothole known as the Long Churn Pot for shelter.
Unbeknown to them Jade Goody had been out hiking and taken shelter from the storm in the same cave, then decided to have a quick play with herself to pass the time until the weather cleared.
“I wus just lyin’ there on me sleepin’ bag, legs akimbo like an’ diddlin’ me clit’, then I sorta dozes off an’ wakes up with this pullin’ at me pissflaps an’ it feels like I’ve got a monster jackrabbit stuck up me twat,” Ms. Goody told reporters.
Not realising they had squeezed and wriggled blindly into one of the most enormous cunts on Earth, the group quickly grasped the fact they might be trapped and switched on their emergency location transponder beacon.
Yorkshire police picked up the beacon’s signal and immediately initiated a helicopter search and rescue operation, tracking down the signal’s source to Long Churn Pot, where they realised the hikers had become trapped up Ms. Goody’s gargantuan vagina.
Summoning a team of Leeds-based potholers, with celebrity gynaecologist Dr. Muff to lead them, police initiated a rescue operation lasting several hours which resulted in the trapped hikers being liberated shortly before nightfall.
The eleven hikers were treated for hypothermia at Leeds Infirmary, with all receiving massive doses of antibiotics and tetanus jabs to counter the myriad of possible infections and diseases they may have contracted while trapped in Ms. Goody’s snatch.
One boy who was overcome by noxious fumes and transferred to the intense care unit was later allowed home.
St. Sodom’s School teacher Angus McFudger, leader of the trapped hiking team, told the media “It was absolute hell in there. I thought we were in a cave with all the stalactites hanging down and slime everywhere. The stink was horrible, but on reflection now we know why it smelled like a fishmonger’s gutting block.”
Following the rescue operation Ms. Goody was advised by both North Yorkshire police and her gynaecologist to have a barred gate or steel grating fitted over the entrance of her vagina while out hiking to prevent similar incidents from occurring in the future.
Rumours that a flock of sheep and two horses which went missing during the same storm might have suffered a similar fate as the school expedition have been dismissed as “unfounded utter rubbish” by Ms. Goody’s publicist.
“Jade went for a full internal examination after her return from Yorkshire and had a vaginal douche performed by the local fire brigade this morning.”
“There was nothing else inside, apart from what remained of her pet poodle that disappeared one night last week.”
Allergy warning : this article may be infected with a variety of STD's and should only be read while wearing a condom.
Council Ruled by Money-Grabbing Fascist Dictators
Smegmadale Council are currently recruiting a team of ex-MI5 spooks to act as refuse compliance officers and sneak around the town’s streets, peering over fences and walls, issuing fixed penalty notices and insta-fines to residents who transgress their wheelie bin code by putting bins out too early or not retrieving them immediately after emptying.
To comply with the latest fruitcake scheme to emerge from the EU’s Brussels’ headbanging asylum, each residential wheelie bin will now be fitted with a satnav tracking beacon, a tachometer and a licence plate, and be subject to an annual MOT test.
This is the latest daft idea in what local residents described as a long line of daft ideas, with Frank Skidmarker, an unemployed dodo plucker, telling reporters “It’s another daft idea.”
Pensioner Elsie Scrotum, a Floodplains Avenue resident, expressed her opinion of the council’s scheme in stronger terms. “I think it’s another fuckin’ daft idea. Years ago these pansy twats used to be called binmen and carry our old style iron bins down alleyways on their shoulders, full of hot cinders, dogshit and broken glass, then tip the rubbish into the cart. Now they calls themselves refuse service officers and go cryin’ to the HSE if they break a fingernail.”
Ms. Slutsy McGammer, a 15-year-old mother of three, currently studying for an A-level in nuclear waste reprocessing, was recently handed a £100 on-the-spot fine by council super-sneak Ronnie Himmler after her wheelie bin was judged to be too close to the curb.
Ms. McGammer informed Smegmadale Clarion reporter Arthur Madeupname that the council could go and ‘fuck spiders’ as she couldn’t afford to pay the fine on her weekly DSS giro. “They’re gonna ‘ave to come round an’ take it outa me twat like the milkman an’ the electric meter bloke do.”
But for cash-strapped Smegmadale Council this is just the start of a money-grasping campaign aimed at generating income by targeting local residents over non-compliance with idiotic dustbin regulations.
Residents refusing, or failing, to pay their fines within two weeks could face legal processing costs of up to £5000 and end up with a criminal record, and have their names placed on the sex offenders register for good measure too
Recently-elected Councillor Barry Goebbels, BNP representative for Smegmadale East and an ex-welfare officer at Abu Ghraib prison, opined that residents had been flouting wheelie bin and refuse laws for far too long and now was the time to get tough.
“I’m for ‘avin’ the same strict laws like wot China’s got,” Goebbels told reporters.
“If yer don’t put yer bin out on time an’ in the right place, then yer get thrown in the nick an’ ‘ave yer vital organs ‘arvested. Then yer might think twice about doin’ it again’, wouldn’t yer, eh?”
But when challenged on this contentious point by The Spoof.com’s wheelie bin correspondent Jarvis Ratscock, that the Peoples’ Utopia of China didn’t actually have a refuse service and simply tossed their garbage into the nearest river, Goebells politely replied “Fuck off yer little speccy-eyed twat before I punch yer gob in.” Another winning first for the BNP.
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of squirrel as it was written in a nut-infested environment.
To comply with the latest fruitcake scheme to emerge from the EU’s Brussels’ headbanging asylum, each residential wheelie bin will now be fitted with a satnav tracking beacon, a tachometer and a licence plate, and be subject to an annual MOT test.
This is the latest daft idea in what local residents described as a long line of daft ideas, with Frank Skidmarker, an unemployed dodo plucker, telling reporters “It’s another daft idea.”
Pensioner Elsie Scrotum, a Floodplains Avenue resident, expressed her opinion of the council’s scheme in stronger terms. “I think it’s another fuckin’ daft idea. Years ago these pansy twats used to be called binmen and carry our old style iron bins down alleyways on their shoulders, full of hot cinders, dogshit and broken glass, then tip the rubbish into the cart. Now they calls themselves refuse service officers and go cryin’ to the HSE if they break a fingernail.”
Ms. Slutsy McGammer, a 15-year-old mother of three, currently studying for an A-level in nuclear waste reprocessing, was recently handed a £100 on-the-spot fine by council super-sneak Ronnie Himmler after her wheelie bin was judged to be too close to the curb.
Ms. McGammer informed Smegmadale Clarion reporter Arthur Madeupname that the council could go and ‘fuck spiders’ as she couldn’t afford to pay the fine on her weekly DSS giro. “They’re gonna ‘ave to come round an’ take it outa me twat like the milkman an’ the electric meter bloke do.”
But for cash-strapped Smegmadale Council this is just the start of a money-grasping campaign aimed at generating income by targeting local residents over non-compliance with idiotic dustbin regulations.
Residents refusing, or failing, to pay their fines within two weeks could face legal processing costs of up to £5000 and end up with a criminal record, and have their names placed on the sex offenders register for good measure too
Recently-elected Councillor Barry Goebbels, BNP representative for Smegmadale East and an ex-welfare officer at Abu Ghraib prison, opined that residents had been flouting wheelie bin and refuse laws for far too long and now was the time to get tough.
“I’m for ‘avin’ the same strict laws like wot China’s got,” Goebbels told reporters.
“If yer don’t put yer bin out on time an’ in the right place, then yer get thrown in the nick an’ ‘ave yer vital organs ‘arvested. Then yer might think twice about doin’ it again’, wouldn’t yer, eh?”
But when challenged on this contentious point by The Spoof.com’s wheelie bin correspondent Jarvis Ratscock, that the Peoples’ Utopia of China didn’t actually have a refuse service and simply tossed their garbage into the nearest river, Goebells politely replied “Fuck off yer little speccy-eyed twat before I punch yer gob in.” Another winning first for the BNP.
Allergy warning : this article may contain traces of squirrel as it was written in a nut-infested environment.
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