Prospective buyers from around the globe, including North Korea, China and Somalia, have been calling auctioneers Floggit & Sons concerning the sale of a 76-acre stretch of Cornish beach.
Shitdale Sands near St. Scabs has been put up for auction, with a guide price of £50,000.
The Shitdale Sands beach has been owned for the past 19 years by a certain reclusive Mr. Ben Gunn who now wishes to capitalise on the investment to fund his retirement at the Grotty Grannies Care Home.
Morton Volestrangler, from auctioneers Floggit, told Pox News the beach had already attracted a lot of interest from as far away as China - and a blue chip pirate company in Somalia who have filed Letters of Intent and Credit for an amount rumoured to be at the top end of the seven figure range.
Volestrangler added "There is an established covenant against any sort of development but absolutely nothing to stop the new owners anchoring their fast attack craft in the bay and hoisting a Jolly Roger flag on the beach.”
“Really, with all the caves along the cliff walls it’s ideal pirate territory, hence the Somali interest for launching buccaneering raids into the English Channel due all the flack they’ve been getting recently around the Gulf of Aden.”
The 16th Century covenant, signed by King James 1, entitles the owner of Shitdale Sands all rights to flotsam and jetsam, beached whales, wrack, driftwood - and seasonal oil slicks from leaky Greek tankers.
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Last week the Dublin headlines were awash with the story of vegetarian pickaxe throwing champion Sheamus Murphy discovering a dead mouse in his seasonal Christmas malt loaf.
Still in Cornwall, Mrs. Fellatia McGammer, of the coastal town of St. Sodoms, found a whole mouse in a jar of curry sauce purchased from a local branch of the Grotty Grocer supermarket chain.
Fellatia bought the jar of Extra Special Rodent Masala sauce to prepare her husband’s favourite spicy seagull curry for dinner and discovered the mouse after she emptied the jar and noticed that the sauce was a bit lumpy.
Fellatia told the Cormorant Strangler’s Weekly "I'm not particularly squeamish cos I used to work at a local extreme rendition centre kicking the shite out of hoodies and yobs but an effin’ big mouse in me curry was a bit of a put-off.”
She said staff at the Grotty Grocer outlet where she bought the jar of Extra Special Rodent Masala sauce from were "as good as gold" when she went in to complain and replaced the product with one of their top-of-the-range ‘Finest’ products - guaranteed to be free of all types of pestilent vermin.”
Grotty Grocer spokesman Frank Fuctifino told the media “So what – it’s just another effin’ mouse – nothin’ unusual – an’ it woz dead too.”
Government health and sanitation spokesman Candida Thort-Nott told Pox News “There is no reason to connect the curry sauce rodent incident with the one in the Irish malt loaf – and even less reason for speculation that this is the harbinger of mass mouse suicides – lemming style – due the effects of global warming.
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The BBC’s online news this week posted a gourmet recipe for an authentic medieval way to roast a porpoise.
Celebrity chef Heston Bloomintwat – owner of the famed Manky Mallard restaurant chain - came across the unique recipe while researching the ‘Vomitaria Maximus’ cookbook - compiled by master cuisiniers to King Richard II - which is part of a collection of medieval cordon bleu texts written on stretched sheep’s scrotums and held by the Crapford Library in Scumborough.
Now an edition of the cookbook dating from the early 15th Century, compiled in about 1420, has been digitalised and uploaded to the library's website.
Ghengis McTwat, keeper of manuscripts, informed reporters it contained hundreds of recipes.
The roast porpoise recipe, for instance, begins, in Mid-English, "For to make a roasted porpoise first get thyself into a boat and row out to the deep estuary and open sea and there catcheth thyself one of medium size with line and hook. Cook over a medium heat wood fire for several hours, turning regularly, until porpoise stops screeching and is confirmed to be dead. Serve with fresh truffles and chestnuts.”
Among the recipes are exotic dishes featuring badger in aspic, rack of peasant, poached cormorant, pickled stoat stuffed with crispy dormice - (vermin in ermine) - and more recognisable names like blackbird pie, rhubarb crumble and blancmange on toast.
While the adventurous chef might well be tempted to try out some of the recipes, the ingredients, once commonplace in 15th Century Merrie England, might be difficult to source at today’s Greedy Grocer supermarkets.
One tempting comprehensive recipe for “a banquet to feed a multitude” instructs the cuisiniers to “Get thy lazy arse out to the forest deep and dark wherein thy should target a stag of fourteen hands height and bring to mortal demise with use of arrow and bow – then snuff the daylights out of downed beast with a blunt mace.”
Not exactly an ideal method of preparing for a Sunday afternoon barbeque for the urban-bound hunter gatherer type.
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Spread out in the Jolly Pillocks sunny beer garden in deepest Dorset last weekend, 65 people – their faces rigid with pain and disgust – gathered in the annual quest to be crowned the King of the Stingers.
There is no easy route to winning the World Stinging Nettle Eating Championship, held each year in the village of Clotford Wood near Numptyport.
It takes skill, it takes endurance, it takes great blistering chunks out of what used to be your mouth – and it takes a bigger pair of bollocks to try for the crown.
Competitors are served two-foot-long stalks of organic home-grown nettles from which they pluck and eat the leaves. The bare stalks are measured and the winner’s the one with the greatest accumulated length – of stalks.
"They taste bleedin’ evil an’ yer shit’s a bright green colour for effin’ days after – plus yer haemorrhoids get stung to fuck an’ back too. But it’s worth it, just fer a laugh,” 95-year old perennial competitior Frank Scrunt told a reporter from the Masochist’s Gazette.
The noble nettle, the Urtica Docia, is a nutritional powerhouse, rich in iron, potassium, calcium and abundant vitamins – when taken as a tea or boiled vegetable source. However the leaves are covered in thousands of microscopic hypodermic needles each filled with boric acid which provide masochists with that beloved painful ‘rush’.
As a grand finale to the annual nettle eating competition – and after downing several pints of Old Wifebeater or Headbanger lager – the assembled participants and spectators strip naked and roll, topsy-turvey fashion, down the 1 in 4 slopes of Screamers Hill through the meter-high crop of stinging nettles – before coming to a howling and agonising halt in a specially-prepared pool of leech-infested liquid cow shit.
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The world is in the grip of a “virulent” new strain of Jew hating anti-Zionism, Chief Rabbi Sheldon Scruntberg told the Whingeing Yid Gazette.
He claims Jews have been physically attacked, schools targeted and cemeteries desecrated – in reprisal for the atrocities levelled against the innocent Palestinian civilian populations of Gaza and the West Bank by the mad dog Israeli military.
“My brother Hymie and I were in a café last week having a bacon sandwich and some goyim Gentile scumbag plumber came in, looked over at us, and declared out loud “Is that Zyclon B gas I can smell?” It was most upsetting.”
Whereas in the past hatred was focused against Judaism as a religion or Jews as a race, the focus this time is on Zionist Jews as a nation. The rise in the number of attacks on kikes in December 2008 and in 2009 coincide precisely with Israel’s genocidal assaults on the Palestinians of Gaza.
“It begins as anti-Zionism — but it is never merely anti-Zionism when it attacks synagogues or Jewish kosher take-aways,” Rabbi Scruntberg told Pox News.
“In the post-Holohoax world the single greatest source of authority is human rights — therefore the new Jew baiting is constructed from the language of human rights – and Israel’s human wrongs against her Palestinian neighbours.”
“The UN has also fanned the flames. At the World Conference against Racism in Durban, Israel was accused of the five cardinal sins against human rights — racism, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, crimes against humanity and attempted genocide. But – hey – remember - we are God’s chosen people and it’s our Manifest Destiny to rule all the other goyim heathen races.”
“There had been after the Holohoax a kind of taboo and that began to break, then the yid hating went viral with the anti-globalist movement.”
“Within 24 hours of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre on 9/11 people shouted from the rooftops it was ‘Mossad wot done it’ – the same with the London Tube bombings and the micro-nuke at the Sari nightclub in Bali.”
“Now my congregation come to me and ask : “Why do the goyim scumbags hate us Jews and world Zionism?” – and I have to answer “Probably due the fact we have very short memories – about the WW2 Nazi ghetto’s and concentration camps – and stealing Palestine and renaming it Israel.”
“The root of the problem started when we got the Romans to murder Jesus Christ - plus historically being known as a bunch of all round greedy sneaking cunts. It’s simply our nature and we’ll never change”
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Rocky the rooster has ruffled a few feathers in a rural Smegmashire village with his ‘dawn-on-the-dot’ early morning wake-up calls.
Killjoy urbanite neighbours living in Fuckwit Wood held a protest march and filed complaints with the local council’s environmental health officers about his loud cock-a-doodle-do’s.
Rocky’s owner, Feral Beryl McScallie , a 16-year old mother of four, told the media “It’s wot yer can expect living right next door ter the New Forest – sorta ‘countryfied’ isn’t it eh. It’s all these townies comin’ ‘ere wot’s complainin’ – not the locals wot woz born ‘ere.”
To comply with a council noise abatement notice Ms. McScallie has had to black out the windows of the garden hen house to keep Rocky from realising it’s dawn until a later – and more reasonable hour - or face a fine of up to £5,000.
Ms.McScalie’s partner, 86-year old Alfie Scrunt, told Fox News “These second home townie twats come livin’ up here ter get outa the city an’ enjoy the country life then complain about normal countryside noises.”
“Old Rocky’s not a happy rooster bein’ stuck in the hen shed until nine in the mornin’. It’s havin’ a negative psychological effect on his macho rooster image and a direct abuse of his human rights as a chicken – not bein’ able to crow on schedule.”
Rocky - who started out in Life as an inconspicuous and non-descript large brown egg – was unavailable for comment.
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