Prime Minister Gordon Brown has finally announced his long-awaited plans to give nearly a billion pounds to the business sector under the guise of helping to alleviate fuel poverty.
Under the scheme, the home-improvement trade is set for a mini-bonanza under the plan to install loft and cavity insulation in any homes not already insulated.
Grateful installation companies are already placing advertisements throughout Eastern Europe to recruit more cheap labour to install the energy-saving measures.
“As a strict Calvinist, the idea of giving away money to people who actually need it causes me real physical pain,” explained the Prime Minister. “I just couldn’t bring myself to give unearned handouts to feckless scroungers, even if some of the older ones might be in danger of freezing to death this winter. This way, the money all goes towards making company directors and investors richer, which is what Labour is all about.”
The Nev Filter had great difficulty contacting any poor people, as they are so amateurish and disorganised that they don’t seem to have any lobby groups or PR groups listed in our media contacts directory. However, when our cleaner came in she pointed out that really poor people tend to live in rented accommodation and, since landlords were generally not all that poor, they wouldn’t qualify for the free insulation and so wouldn’t sign up for it – even at half price - leaving their tenants shivering as usual.
She added that most residential accommodation in Britain has had insulation for years anyway and the bills were still astronomical, and told us: “you coked-up little media shits with your BMWs and your holiday homes in Tuscany have no sodding idea what poverty in the UK is.” We thanked her for her contribution and sent her on her way with a clip round the ear and a warning to show more respect to her betters.
Meanwhile, Gordon Brown is said to be looking at helpful ways to reduce the spiralling cost of everyday motoring next, with a plan to fit free solar panels to all high-performance cars costing over £50,000.
Thursday 11 September 2008
E.on Executive Nominated For 'Best Newcomer' Comedy Award
Energy company E.on has apologised after one of its senior executives joked that a severe winter would mean “more money for us”.
Mark Owen-Lloyd, the company’s head of power trading, made the comment during a seminar organised by the industry’s futile, toothless regulator, Ofgem.
“We’re sorry our grumpy customers are too wrapped up in their own selfish misery to realise that Mr Owen-Lloyd’s comments are utterly hilarious,” said a company spokesman. “Our board of directors falls about laughing at it every day.”
The government - which does very nicely out of high energy costs through VAT and corporation tax, thank you - agreed that Mr Owen-Lloyd’s comments were “absolutely spot on”.
“Oh, for God’s sake crack a smile, you miserable gits,” a chortling Hilary Benn told angry consumer groups. “What’s up, can’t you take a little home truth? Ha ha-ha ha ha.”
Mark Owen-Lloyd, the company’s head of power trading, made the comment during a seminar organised by the industry’s futile, toothless regulator, Ofgem.
“We’re sorry our grumpy customers are too wrapped up in their own selfish misery to realise that Mr Owen-Lloyd’s comments are utterly hilarious,” said a company spokesman. “Our board of directors falls about laughing at it every day.”
The government - which does very nicely out of high energy costs through VAT and corporation tax, thank you - agreed that Mr Owen-Lloyd’s comments were “absolutely spot on”.
“Oh, for God’s sake crack a smile, you miserable gits,” a chortling Hilary Benn told angry consumer groups. “What’s up, can’t you take a little home truth? Ha ha-ha ha ha.”
Eat Yourself Fitter
Schools Secretary Ed Balls has launched a programme aimed at tackling childhood obesity, in which schools will give out a cookbook to all 11-year-olds in England.
The Real Meals cookbook will include instructions on such kitchen skills as the right toaster setting for waffles, and how much milk to pour onto Coco Pops.
“As if we haven’t cluttered up the school curriculum with enough rubbish, teachers can now try to shoehorn cooking lessons for 11 to 14-year-olds into the timetable,” said Mr Balls. “Parents are useless oafs, and can’t be expected to pass on any skills or knowledge to their children. Jesus, we’ll be introducing potty training for year 10 students next.”
We showed copies of the cookbook to children at a local school. They told us that, although they couldn’t understand most of the words, the pictures made them feel quite peckish and could we spare a couple of pounds for a KFC bargain bucket, please?
The Real Meals cookbook will include instructions on such kitchen skills as the right toaster setting for waffles, and how much milk to pour onto Coco Pops.
“As if we haven’t cluttered up the school curriculum with enough rubbish, teachers can now try to shoehorn cooking lessons for 11 to 14-year-olds into the timetable,” said Mr Balls. “Parents are useless oafs, and can’t be expected to pass on any skills or knowledge to their children. Jesus, we’ll be introducing potty training for year 10 students next.”
We showed copies of the cookbook to children at a local school. They told us that, although they couldn’t understand most of the words, the pictures made them feel quite peckish and could we spare a couple of pounds for a KFC bargain bucket, please?
Wednesday 10 September 2008
It's The End Of The World As We Know It
Scientists breathed a collective sigh of relief yesterday at 8.31 yesterday morning, when it became apparent that the switching-on of the Large Hadron Collider had not brought about the collapse of the entire universe.
Critics, doomsayers, net-surfers, sci-fi anoraks and psychic mediums had all predicted that man’s arrogant, overreaching quest to recreate the conditions that existed seconds after the Big Bang would inevitably result in a disaster of infinite magnitude as the Earth collapsed into a giant black hole, setting off a cataclysmic chain reaction which would engulf the entire universe in a split-second.
However, when the big red button was pressed at the CERN Laboratory in Switzerland there was nothing but a dull hum, followed by the chattering of printers as they began recording measurements from a battery of instruments around the 17-mile circumference of the underground particle accelerator.
The champagne had barely stopped flowing, however, when a large black sphere appeared in mid-air, bursting open to reveal a gateway to a parallel universe. Cheers turned to screams as an army of unstoppable Cybermen poured into our dimension, firing on everything that moved.
As the cyber-troops spread out to create further mayhem, the rip in the fabric of space and time disgorged a horde of invisible brain-things, Captain Kirk’s evil twin, a hovering red robot with magimix hands, a legion of fighting Uruk-Hai, a dancing crimson-suited midget talking backwards, Godzilla, the Crawling Chaos, a dishevelled man with a chainsaw strapped to his arm and a shop assistant with a great big gun.
Switzerland was overrun by lunchtime, leaving the United Nations with little option but to nuke the entire region. However, before the desperate plan could be implemented, the elusive Higgs Boson – the so-called ‘God particle’ – finally emerged from the still-running Collider.
“Worship me,” boomed a deep, commanding voice inside the heads of everyone on the planet, “And I will rid your world of this pestilence from beyond!”
As the world quickly assented, the particle accelerator powered itself down and the rampaging hordes disappeared in a theatrical puff of smoke.
World leaders are said to be hastily arranging schedules and venues for mass acts of obeisance and sacrifice to the terrible, all-powerful, sub-atomic-particle deity, which will have to be appeased for the rest of human history if further outbreaks of chaos are to be averted.
Meanwhile, surviving physicists emerged from their hiding places at the CERN labs, saying: “Cool! Let’s run that again - but with full power this time.”
Critics, doomsayers, net-surfers, sci-fi anoraks and psychic mediums had all predicted that man’s arrogant, overreaching quest to recreate the conditions that existed seconds after the Big Bang would inevitably result in a disaster of infinite magnitude as the Earth collapsed into a giant black hole, setting off a cataclysmic chain reaction which would engulf the entire universe in a split-second.
However, when the big red button was pressed at the CERN Laboratory in Switzerland there was nothing but a dull hum, followed by the chattering of printers as they began recording measurements from a battery of instruments around the 17-mile circumference of the underground particle accelerator.
The champagne had barely stopped flowing, however, when a large black sphere appeared in mid-air, bursting open to reveal a gateway to a parallel universe. Cheers turned to screams as an army of unstoppable Cybermen poured into our dimension, firing on everything that moved.
As the cyber-troops spread out to create further mayhem, the rip in the fabric of space and time disgorged a horde of invisible brain-things, Captain Kirk’s evil twin, a hovering red robot with magimix hands, a legion of fighting Uruk-Hai, a dancing crimson-suited midget talking backwards, Godzilla, the Crawling Chaos, a dishevelled man with a chainsaw strapped to his arm and a shop assistant with a great big gun.
Switzerland was overrun by lunchtime, leaving the United Nations with little option but to nuke the entire region. However, before the desperate plan could be implemented, the elusive Higgs Boson – the so-called ‘God particle’ – finally emerged from the still-running Collider.
“Worship me,” boomed a deep, commanding voice inside the heads of everyone on the planet, “And I will rid your world of this pestilence from beyond!”
As the world quickly assented, the particle accelerator powered itself down and the rampaging hordes disappeared in a theatrical puff of smoke.
World leaders are said to be hastily arranging schedules and venues for mass acts of obeisance and sacrifice to the terrible, all-powerful, sub-atomic-particle deity, which will have to be appeased for the rest of human history if further outbreaks of chaos are to be averted.
Meanwhile, surviving physicists emerged from their hiding places at the CERN labs, saying: “Cool! Let’s run that again - but with full power this time.”
Class War! What Is It Good For?
The Tories have accused Labour’s deputy leader, Harriet Harman, of trying to re-ignite a “class war”, following her speech to the TUC yesterday in which she called for action to tackle the gap in opportunities between rich and poor.
“When Harriet Harman told union delegates ‘equality matters more than ever’, her intentions couldn’t be clearer,” warned shadow Commons leader Theresa May. “What she meant was, ‘Take a crowbar to work and beat your line manager to a pulp before setting fire to his computer and throwing it out of the window.’ We are staring anarchy in the face.”
Ms Harman struggled to defuse mounting criticism, saying: “I think that socio-economic class and background is a kind of policy description and I think most people think about it in terms of family background – what sort of a family you come from and where they come from.”
“Did you hear that?” shrieked Mrs May. “She’s ordering her rent-a-mob hooligan army to march on the banks and burn them to the ground!”
David Cameron pointed out that it was not class war when fat cat bosses of huge, unaccountable corporations imposed huge charges on the public for essential goods and services, awarded themselves enormous bonuses while paying their workforce the minimum wage, or outsourced Europe-based jobs in favour of exploiting the poor in the developing world.
“It is only class war when the great unwashed start getting ideas above their station,” he added, as he climbed aboard his armoured helicopter for a spot of prole-hunting.
“When Harriet Harman told union delegates ‘equality matters more than ever’, her intentions couldn’t be clearer,” warned shadow Commons leader Theresa May. “What she meant was, ‘Take a crowbar to work and beat your line manager to a pulp before setting fire to his computer and throwing it out of the window.’ We are staring anarchy in the face.”
Ms Harman struggled to defuse mounting criticism, saying: “I think that socio-economic class and background is a kind of policy description and I think most people think about it in terms of family background – what sort of a family you come from and where they come from.”
“Did you hear that?” shrieked Mrs May. “She’s ordering her rent-a-mob hooligan army to march on the banks and burn them to the ground!”
David Cameron pointed out that it was not class war when fat cat bosses of huge, unaccountable corporations imposed huge charges on the public for essential goods and services, awarded themselves enormous bonuses while paying their workforce the minimum wage, or outsourced Europe-based jobs in favour of exploiting the poor in the developing world.
“It is only class war when the great unwashed start getting ideas above their station,” he added, as he climbed aboard his armoured helicopter for a spot of prole-hunting.
Poetry In Motion
Andrew Motion has complained that the job of Poet Laureate is a “thankless task”, berating the Queen for never expressing any opinions about the poems he writes for her. He gave full vent to his hurt feelings in a poem delivered to the Ealing Arts Festival:
Oh queeny queeny queeny queen,
You’re the top monarch there’s ever been.
So don’t keep quiet and don’t be mean -
Say this is the best you’ve ever seen.
Andrew Motion, age 55.
Oh queeny queeny queeny queen,
You’re the top monarch there’s ever been.
So don’t keep quiet and don’t be mean -
Say this is the best you’ve ever seen.
Andrew Motion, age 55.
Tuesday 9 September 2008
Islamic Schools Teach Terrorism And You Bloody Know It, Claims Tired-of-Life Academic
Faith schools are breeding grounds for terrorism, according to a leading academic psychologist and hole-digger.
Professor David Recanter, director of the University of Liverpool’s Centre for Investigative Psychology and Holes, said: “I have to say, and this is a personal point of view, that issues like faith schools are terribly dangerous – you know which ones I mean, so please don’t make me say it.”
Speaking from a deep pit excavated from the floor of his office, the professor said he had drawn his totally non-inflammatory findings from a huge body of interviews conducted on 49 convicted terrorists in India – all of whom, by pure coincidence, just happened to be Islamic.
“In the vain hope of avoiding an early and grisly death, I would like to add that I have no doubt that the violent past of Northern Ireland was due to religious schooling as well, er, probably,” added the professor hastily, as he furiously shovelled more earth from his trench. “Unfortunately I conducted no research whatsoever to back this up, despite the fact that there is a frequent ferry service between Liverpool and Ireland. It just seemed to me that the most convenient place to interview former terrorists was on the other side of the world.”
As his mobile phone signalled an ominously increasing number of text messages, the sweating professor yelled up from the depths of his hole that those innocent-looking Church of England primary schools were probably just as bad - and as for those Catholics, they might well be teaching children as young as seven that Guy Fawkes had the right idea.
At this point the university’s chancellor dropped by to tell Professor Recanter that he could stop digging now, as he had successfully managed to offend members of every religion in the world. He also announced that the Centre for Investigative Psychology and Holes would, with immediate effect, be transferred from Liverpool to a new campus in Afghanistan close to the Pakistan border, where the professor would be able to conduct his studies to his heart’s content.
Professor David Recanter, director of the University of Liverpool’s Centre for Investigative Psychology and Holes, said: “I have to say, and this is a personal point of view, that issues like faith schools are terribly dangerous – you know which ones I mean, so please don’t make me say it.”
Speaking from a deep pit excavated from the floor of his office, the professor said he had drawn his totally non-inflammatory findings from a huge body of interviews conducted on 49 convicted terrorists in India – all of whom, by pure coincidence, just happened to be Islamic.
“In the vain hope of avoiding an early and grisly death, I would like to add that I have no doubt that the violent past of Northern Ireland was due to religious schooling as well, er, probably,” added the professor hastily, as he furiously shovelled more earth from his trench. “Unfortunately I conducted no research whatsoever to back this up, despite the fact that there is a frequent ferry service between Liverpool and Ireland. It just seemed to me that the most convenient place to interview former terrorists was on the other side of the world.”
As his mobile phone signalled an ominously increasing number of text messages, the sweating professor yelled up from the depths of his hole that those innocent-looking Church of England primary schools were probably just as bad - and as for those Catholics, they might well be teaching children as young as seven that Guy Fawkes had the right idea.
At this point the university’s chancellor dropped by to tell Professor Recanter that he could stop digging now, as he had successfully managed to offend members of every religion in the world. He also announced that the Centre for Investigative Psychology and Holes would, with immediate effect, be transferred from Liverpool to a new campus in Afghanistan close to the Pakistan border, where the professor would be able to conduct his studies to his heart’s content.
Spare a Thought For A Poor Estate Agent
Estate agents across Britain are resorting to desperate measures to shift properties in the midst of the credit crunch, it was revealed yesterday, as figures from the Royal Institute of Chartered Surveyors showed that some agents have struggled to sell one house a week in the last three months.
‘Buy one, get one free’ offers shout out in vain from high street windows, while Nectar points and discount cards have also failed to tempt buyers.
“I beg the public to take pity on us,” sobbed one despairing agent in Guildford. “How could anyone bear to think that thousands of decent, hardworking, honest estate agents will soon be reduced to abject poverty? While you’re here, sir, perhaps I could show you round these 220 square metres of prime, recently-refurbished A1 retail premises in a much sought-after high street location, becoming vacant at the end of the month. Unexpected circumstances force quick sale; superb eye-candy receptionist included at no extra charge - come on sir, make me an offer, what do you say?”
‘Buy one, get one free’ offers shout out in vain from high street windows, while Nectar points and discount cards have also failed to tempt buyers.
“I beg the public to take pity on us,” sobbed one despairing agent in Guildford. “How could anyone bear to think that thousands of decent, hardworking, honest estate agents will soon be reduced to abject poverty? While you’re here, sir, perhaps I could show you round these 220 square metres of prime, recently-refurbished A1 retail premises in a much sought-after high street location, becoming vacant at the end of the month. Unexpected circumstances force quick sale; superb eye-candy receptionist included at no extra charge - come on sir, make me an offer, what do you say?”
Suspension of Racism-Claim Officer Not Even Slightly Racist - Perish The Thought, Says Nose-Tapping, Straight-Faced Met Commissioner
Britain’s most senior Asian police officer, who recently brought a discrimination case against the Metropolitan Police, has been relieved of duty and put on immediate leave after losing the case.
Commissioner Ian Blair insisted that Assistant Commissioner Tarique Ghaffur’s suspension was nothing to do with his claim that he had been held back by racial prejudice.
“Stone me! Turns out this geezer was only in charge of bleedin’ security for the 2012 Olympics, can you believe that?” said the Commissioner. “Blimey! Talk about a security risk! E’s prob’ly got a bunch of ‘is mates sittin’ in ‘is garden shed at this very moment, churnin’ out bomb belts like a Brick Lane sweat shop, know wot I mean? Wot – racist? Me? Nah, you got the wrong bloke, mate, I ain’t got a racist bone in me body. I was just sayin’, like. Stands to reason mind, dunnit?”
Mr Ghaffur was not available for comment. However, several top lawyers in his vicinity were seen rubbing their hands together with glee.
Commissioner Ian Blair insisted that Assistant Commissioner Tarique Ghaffur’s suspension was nothing to do with his claim that he had been held back by racial prejudice.
“Stone me! Turns out this geezer was only in charge of bleedin’ security for the 2012 Olympics, can you believe that?” said the Commissioner. “Blimey! Talk about a security risk! E’s prob’ly got a bunch of ‘is mates sittin’ in ‘is garden shed at this very moment, churnin’ out bomb belts like a Brick Lane sweat shop, know wot I mean? Wot – racist? Me? Nah, you got the wrong bloke, mate, I ain’t got a racist bone in me body. I was just sayin’, like. Stands to reason mind, dunnit?”
Mr Ghaffur was not available for comment. However, several top lawyers in his vicinity were seen rubbing their hands together with glee.
Monday 8 September 2008
The Last Straw
The Justice Secretary, Jack Straw, is facing further embarrassment after leaked details suggested that the Ministry of Justice staff outing last month turned out to be an utter fiasco.
Every year the hard-working civil servants are traditionally rewarded with a day at a brewery. However, the trip began badly when managers discovered that the USB stick holding all the invitations had been lost by the private contractor responsible for designing the document. The matter was further complicated when the staff list was found to have been stored on a removable hard drive which was accidentally left on a train. Only after frantic calls to Lost Property departments at stations all over London was the drive returned to the ministry in the nick of time.
Organisers then learned that the laptop with AutoRoute Express on it had been sold on eBay for a fiver, forcing them to stop and ask passers-by for directions to the brewery. When they eventually arrived, an hour later than scheduled, the thirsty staff discovered that a temp had mistakenly booked them into a different brewery on the other side of London. After a detour to somebody’s house to pick up a sat-nav, the hapless workforce finally arrived at the right venue – where anger turned to fury when they discovered that the brewers were closing up for the night.
At this point it was realised that - perhaps fortunately, under the circumstances - the Justice Secretary had been left behind in his office.
The dismal outing was finally abandoned at two in the morning - but, thanks to their minibus running out of petrol because nobody seemed to have the departmental credit card, several disgruntled and sober workers were forced to make their own way home using night buses and taxis.
Mr Straw, meanwhile, was said to have been baffled to wake up from his afternoon nap to find the Ministry of Justice completely deserted, and only found out about the brewery trip when in desperation he rang his private secretary’s office and heard about it on the answering machine.
“Why did nobody in the department tell me about this? It makes me look like a complete fool,” he fumed to reporters while ringing repeatedly on the 10 Downing Street doorbell yesterday morning - sadly unaware that the cabinet was in fact meeting in Birmingham.
Every year the hard-working civil servants are traditionally rewarded with a day at a brewery. However, the trip began badly when managers discovered that the USB stick holding all the invitations had been lost by the private contractor responsible for designing the document. The matter was further complicated when the staff list was found to have been stored on a removable hard drive which was accidentally left on a train. Only after frantic calls to Lost Property departments at stations all over London was the drive returned to the ministry in the nick of time.
Organisers then learned that the laptop with AutoRoute Express on it had been sold on eBay for a fiver, forcing them to stop and ask passers-by for directions to the brewery. When they eventually arrived, an hour later than scheduled, the thirsty staff discovered that a temp had mistakenly booked them into a different brewery on the other side of London. After a detour to somebody’s house to pick up a sat-nav, the hapless workforce finally arrived at the right venue – where anger turned to fury when they discovered that the brewers were closing up for the night.
At this point it was realised that - perhaps fortunately, under the circumstances - the Justice Secretary had been left behind in his office.
The dismal outing was finally abandoned at two in the morning - but, thanks to their minibus running out of petrol because nobody seemed to have the departmental credit card, several disgruntled and sober workers were forced to make their own way home using night buses and taxis.
Mr Straw, meanwhile, was said to have been baffled to wake up from his afternoon nap to find the Ministry of Justice completely deserted, and only found out about the brewery trip when in desperation he rang his private secretary’s office and heard about it on the answering machine.
“Why did nobody in the department tell me about this? It makes me look like a complete fool,” he fumed to reporters while ringing repeatedly on the 10 Downing Street doorbell yesterday morning - sadly unaware that the cabinet was in fact meeting in Birmingham.
Caribbeans Deeply Moved By Plight of Storm-Lashed Britain
Ordinary people across the Caribbean are digging deep into their pockets to help storm-wracked Britain to recover from the trauma of localised flooding, fallen branches and loose roof tiles.
Cuba’s television screens – those that were still connected to a working electricity supply, and not under several feet of floodwater – were filled with shocking graphic images of mangled folding brollies lying uncollected and rotting in Britain’s storm-ravaged streets.
“Like a million or so of my fellow Cubans, I missed the broadcast as I am currently sheltering with my family on high ground under a blanket, away from the inconvenience of Hurricane Ike,” said tobacco-roller Maria Gutierrez. “However, I heard on the radio about the suffering of the British people, and my heart goes out to them. I shall be sending a week’s wages to help. I hope my 80 pesos will bring tears of joy to somebody who is on the verge of giving up hope. Is £2 a lot of money in Britain?”
Over in Haiti, dishevelled bean-planter Jorge Domingo took a break from burying his drowned family to carry their waterlogged clothes to the British consulate, in the hope that they might alleviate the plight of someone in the north of England whose umbrella has been destroyed by the merciless gales.
“I know what it is like to shiver in the pouring rain,” he told reporters, “Our plywood shack was demolished when the river burst its banks in a raging torrent and a wall of water roared through our shanty town, carrying off my wife and children along with several of my neighbours. But I give thanks to God that I will never know the heart-rending misery of seeing a tree fall on my shiny new car. How do you pick up your life after that? I can’t imagine.”
Meanwhile, weather forecasters back in the UK announced that more rain is expected today, although they said it is unlikely to be as inconvenient as the weekend’s downpours. In answer to yesterday’s pleading front-page headline from the Daily Mirror – “WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING?” - a Met Office spokesman in Exeter replied, “Yes.”
Cuba’s television screens – those that were still connected to a working electricity supply, and not under several feet of floodwater – were filled with shocking graphic images of mangled folding brollies lying uncollected and rotting in Britain’s storm-ravaged streets.
“Like a million or so of my fellow Cubans, I missed the broadcast as I am currently sheltering with my family on high ground under a blanket, away from the inconvenience of Hurricane Ike,” said tobacco-roller Maria Gutierrez. “However, I heard on the radio about the suffering of the British people, and my heart goes out to them. I shall be sending a week’s wages to help. I hope my 80 pesos will bring tears of joy to somebody who is on the verge of giving up hope. Is £2 a lot of money in Britain?”
Over in Haiti, dishevelled bean-planter Jorge Domingo took a break from burying his drowned family to carry their waterlogged clothes to the British consulate, in the hope that they might alleviate the plight of someone in the north of England whose umbrella has been destroyed by the merciless gales.
“I know what it is like to shiver in the pouring rain,” he told reporters, “Our plywood shack was demolished when the river burst its banks in a raging torrent and a wall of water roared through our shanty town, carrying off my wife and children along with several of my neighbours. But I give thanks to God that I will never know the heart-rending misery of seeing a tree fall on my shiny new car. How do you pick up your life after that? I can’t imagine.”
Meanwhile, weather forecasters back in the UK announced that more rain is expected today, although they said it is unlikely to be as inconvenient as the weekend’s downpours. In answer to yesterday’s pleading front-page headline from the Daily Mirror – “WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING?” - a Met Office spokesman in Exeter replied, “Yes.”
Sunday 7 September 2008
World's Wackiest Racer Chained To A Post
Britain’s Lewis Perfect was stripped of his title as victor of the Belgian Wacky Race on Sunday after wicked, mustachio-twirling foreigners conspired to penalise him simply because, in a stroke of true British genius, he invented his own racetrack instead of sticking to the official one like some mindless, order-following automaton.
In a bold stroke of inspiration, the 23-year-old wonder realised that, instead of wasting precious seconds turning the wheels of his McLaren Turbo Terrific to negotiate a chicane deliberately placed in his path by scheming villains in league with the other teams, he could simply drive over it at full speed instead. The vital time he gained was enough to win the race against the double-dealing do-badder Felipe Masstardly.
However, in a disgraceful post-event stitch-up, evil Belgian race stewards – led, according to some eye-witnesses, by a floppy-eared, snickering hound - put forward the unlikely-sounding claim that, according to some so-called ‘rule-book’, Lewis Perfect was supposed to drive solely on the hard black bits of the Spa-Francorchamps racecourse. The youthful British hero was subjected to a humiliating 25-second handicap which not only handed the victory on a plate to the swarthy Masstardly’s Italian rust-bucket, but rubbed salt into the wound by leaving him trailing in third on the tail of the Red-Max Bull of Nick Heidfeld.
British Formula Wack fans were reduced to tears, claiming that the clearly racist decision was motivated purely by jealousy over Lewis Perfect’s dashing good looks which have stolen the heart of the lovely Ron Pitstop, the glamour gal of the gas pedal.
Meanwhile, the despicable, cheating Timo Glock in the Toyota Chuggabug was handed a richly-deserved 25-second penalty for ignoring yellow flags.
In a bold stroke of inspiration, the 23-year-old wonder realised that, instead of wasting precious seconds turning the wheels of his McLaren Turbo Terrific to negotiate a chicane deliberately placed in his path by scheming villains in league with the other teams, he could simply drive over it at full speed instead. The vital time he gained was enough to win the race against the double-dealing do-badder Felipe Masstardly.
However, in a disgraceful post-event stitch-up, evil Belgian race stewards – led, according to some eye-witnesses, by a floppy-eared, snickering hound - put forward the unlikely-sounding claim that, according to some so-called ‘rule-book’, Lewis Perfect was supposed to drive solely on the hard black bits of the Spa-Francorchamps racecourse. The youthful British hero was subjected to a humiliating 25-second handicap which not only handed the victory on a plate to the swarthy Masstardly’s Italian rust-bucket, but rubbed salt into the wound by leaving him trailing in third on the tail of the Red-Max Bull of Nick Heidfeld.
British Formula Wack fans were reduced to tears, claiming that the clearly racist decision was motivated purely by jealousy over Lewis Perfect’s dashing good looks which have stolen the heart of the lovely Ron Pitstop, the glamour gal of the gas pedal.
Meanwhile, the despicable, cheating Timo Glock in the Toyota Chuggabug was handed a richly-deserved 25-second penalty for ignoring yellow flags.
Cloth-Capped Proles Propose Rum New 'Socialism' Malarkey
At its annual conference in Brighton, the TUC threw down the gauntlet to Gordon Brown’s embattled government, putting forward a strange and dangerous new political theory known as ‘socialism’ as a possible answer to Britain’s economic and social collapse.
“Them ministers ‘as to demonstrate that them’s on t’side of ordinary folks an’ all, wi’ fairness as their watchword,” said coal-smeared general secretary Brendan Barber. “That’s why us wants to see tax cuts, like.”
Not content with making this shocking demand that the poor should be less poor, Mr Barber then went on, in his clumsy manner, to make the even more outrageous suggestion that the extreme wealth of the great and the good in the world of commerce was somehow “socially divisive and morally objectionable”.
“’appen the super-rich ‘ave not created much in t’way of extra wealth. Them’s mostly taken it from t’rest of us ’uns,” he told ungrateful skiving delegates, who were all frolicking at the seaside when they should have been making money for their kindly, paternalistic employers.
With unprecedented gall, Barber then forwarded the preposterous claim that £5bn could be raised by closing tax loopholes and increasing taxes on the hard-working rich.
Seized with an insane revolutionary zeal, the inflamed masses poured out of the conference centre and besieged the Royal Pavilion - until the government sensibly called out the army to shoot them down on the steps.
Mr Barber, however, is understood to have escaped the massacre in a pram and - although the authorities have mounted a watch on all ports - it is feared that the cowardly fugitive may turn up in Paris, Geneva or some other European capital to foment his dangerous political heresies, before returning to his motherland to spearhead some kind of populist uprising against the forces of laissez-faire globalism that have governed the nation so wisely and for so long.
A smiling, top-hatted prime minister was keen to play down the stalled uprising.
“I’ve had a brief look into this socialism claptrap,” smirked Mr Brown, “And it’s all a lot of idealistic mumbo-jumbo masquerading as a political theory, so my billionaire friends tell me. It is their undoubted financial genius that has made this country what it is today, so it is certainly not my place to ignore their wise words of advice.”
“Them ministers ‘as to demonstrate that them’s on t’side of ordinary folks an’ all, wi’ fairness as their watchword,” said coal-smeared general secretary Brendan Barber. “That’s why us wants to see tax cuts, like.”
Not content with making this shocking demand that the poor should be less poor, Mr Barber then went on, in his clumsy manner, to make the even more outrageous suggestion that the extreme wealth of the great and the good in the world of commerce was somehow “socially divisive and morally objectionable”.
“’appen the super-rich ‘ave not created much in t’way of extra wealth. Them’s mostly taken it from t’rest of us ’uns,” he told ungrateful skiving delegates, who were all frolicking at the seaside when they should have been making money for their kindly, paternalistic employers.
With unprecedented gall, Barber then forwarded the preposterous claim that £5bn could be raised by closing tax loopholes and increasing taxes on the hard-working rich.
Seized with an insane revolutionary zeal, the inflamed masses poured out of the conference centre and besieged the Royal Pavilion - until the government sensibly called out the army to shoot them down on the steps.
Mr Barber, however, is understood to have escaped the massacre in a pram and - although the authorities have mounted a watch on all ports - it is feared that the cowardly fugitive may turn up in Paris, Geneva or some other European capital to foment his dangerous political heresies, before returning to his motherland to spearhead some kind of populist uprising against the forces of laissez-faire globalism that have governed the nation so wisely and for so long.
A smiling, top-hatted prime minister was keen to play down the stalled uprising.
“I’ve had a brief look into this socialism claptrap,” smirked Mr Brown, “And it’s all a lot of idealistic mumbo-jumbo masquerading as a political theory, so my billionaire friends tell me. It is their undoubted financial genius that has made this country what it is today, so it is certainly not my place to ignore their wise words of advice.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)