Gordon Brown has been talking to Buckingham Palace about reforming the ancient traditions of the monarchy, in a half-assed attempt to distract the media from speculation about the probable extent of ridicule heaped on his head by jeering G20 leaders, and predictions that the summit will be the catalyst for bloody civil war on the streets of Britain.
"The monarchy is widely regarded as the last bastion of inequality in Britain," the Prime Minister bellowed through the gates at the royal residence. "It is the stark epitome of the fundamental disparities that divide our society. The evil canker which lurks at the very heart of Britain's royalty must be excised without hesitation."
The Queen, meanwhile, was seen to be struggling to haul an antique musket onto the balcony rail, encouraged by Prince Philip's shouts of "Kill the prole, old girl - no one's going to miss him," and "I told you all along - those Labour politicians are all getting their orders from Stalin."
"Britain today is a society deeply divided," continued the PM hoarsely, ignoring the clicking cameras of Japanese tourists. "How much longer will the lowly subjects of Her Britannic Majesty tolerate the injustices perpetrated against them by a small number of individuals, whose position is purely an accident of history? The time has come for the elected government of the people to take swift, decisive action to bring an end to this institutionalised slight against millions!"
Mr Brown was interrupted by a loud blast from the palace, as the Queen fired the unwieldy relic of the English Civil War at her leading minister. Staggering to her feet after the weapon's unexpected recoil, she saw Mr Brown rolling on the ground, clutching his groin and screaming in pain: "You silly old bag, I was only referring to parts of the Act of Settlement, 1701 which govern female accession and prevent the heir from marrying a Catholic!"
"Somebody call me an ambulance," added the Prime Minister, causing a brief smirk to play upon the face of the Guardsman standing impassively on duty at the gates of the palace.
Mr Brown was eventually taken to hospital when Jack Straw arrived bearing a flag of truce, and was later released with a blue plaster on his willy. The latest opinion polls indicate that, thanks to the unfortunate misunderstanding, the monarchy's popularity has swiftly soared to levels unknown since 1945.
Friday 27 March 2009
University Upholds Protest Professor's Freedom Of Sack
A professor of anthropology has been suspended by the University of East Enders for saying nasty, hurtful things about bankers on the radio.
Speaking on Radio 4's PM programme after Sir Fred Badwin's Edinburgh home was slightly damaged by dangerous insurrectionists earler in the week, Professor Chris Peasant made several leaden jokes about hanging the much-maligned financiers from lamp-posts.
The prestigious University of East Enders has confirmed that Professor Peasant has been suspended from his job and neck, pending investigation into whether he has been preaching sedition to first-year students taking his module, 'Killing The Rich: Ritual Sacrifice in Modern Tribal Society'. The university said that while it remained absolutely committed to upholding the right to freedom of expression, it was even more committed to the continuation of its funding from the government.
Police have warned that several notorious activist groups from the 1990s - including the Newbury Bypass protesters and the University of Plymouth's infamous Rent Strike Committee - are reforming and forging new alliances dedicated to the single-minded aim of overthrowing the established world order and ushering in a new Dark Age of death and destruction.
"Handy that we've just taken delivery of another six thousand Tasers, then," smiled a Home Office spokesman. "Incitement to violence is unacceptable and, by making these ill-judged comments, Professor Peasant has recklessly incited police officers to zap the living shit out of anybody sporting a goatee or a hand-knitted Peruvian jumper inside the M25 next weekend."
Speaking on Radio 4's PM programme after Sir Fred Badwin's Edinburgh home was slightly damaged by dangerous insurrectionists earler in the week, Professor Chris Peasant made several leaden jokes about hanging the much-maligned financiers from lamp-posts.
The prestigious University of East Enders has confirmed that Professor Peasant has been suspended from his job and neck, pending investigation into whether he has been preaching sedition to first-year students taking his module, 'Killing The Rich: Ritual Sacrifice in Modern Tribal Society'. The university said that while it remained absolutely committed to upholding the right to freedom of expression, it was even more committed to the continuation of its funding from the government.
Police have warned that several notorious activist groups from the 1990s - including the Newbury Bypass protesters and the University of Plymouth's infamous Rent Strike Committee - are reforming and forging new alliances dedicated to the single-minded aim of overthrowing the established world order and ushering in a new Dark Age of death and destruction.
"Handy that we've just taken delivery of another six thousand Tasers, then," smiled a Home Office spokesman. "Incitement to violence is unacceptable and, by making these ill-judged comments, Professor Peasant has recklessly incited police officers to zap the living shit out of anybody sporting a goatee or a hand-knitted Peruvian jumper inside the M25 next weekend."
Wednesday 25 March 2009
Protesters Find Practical Use For Google Street View
Google's controversial Street View application has finally found a purpose, after some inspired individuals tracked down Sir Fred Goodwin's villa in the exclusive Morningside area of Edinburgh and heaved a few bricks through the windows.
At first, police thought the attack was merely a lucky random choice by a lone vandal. However, an email sent to the press suggested that the incident may be the work of an organised group protesting against bank executives.
It also emerged that, in addition to rewarding Sir Fred with a £650,000 annual pension for bringing ruin to its doors and granting him a £3m advance, the Royal Bank of Scotland is also generously providing him with security. The actual level of security involved has not been made public - but the attack has shown that, whatever it is, at least it isn't up to much.
In addition to breaking a couple of windows in the house, the attackers also damaged the windows of a Mercedes 600 parked in the driveway. It is not thought that Sir Fred or his family have lived at the house since the row over his pension erupted - suggesting that he is probably enjoying life in an even more insultingly expensive house, and swanning about in an even more obscenely-ostentatious car.
A spokesman for Edinburgh's police said: "The force takes very seriously any planned attack on any individual or their property, even a horrible shit like Goodwin. We have now posted a police car outside his house, and our sharp-eyed officers will intercept anyone seen approaching the house with a balaclava and a hod to tell them not to waste their time damaging an empty property. We will then proceed to take down their details, and promise faithfully to text them the moment the greedy little turd comes slinking back."
"We've got a spare can of petrol in the boot, too, if they want it," he added.
At first, police thought the attack was merely a lucky random choice by a lone vandal. However, an email sent to the press suggested that the incident may be the work of an organised group protesting against bank executives.
It also emerged that, in addition to rewarding Sir Fred with a £650,000 annual pension for bringing ruin to its doors and granting him a £3m advance, the Royal Bank of Scotland is also generously providing him with security. The actual level of security involved has not been made public - but the attack has shown that, whatever it is, at least it isn't up to much.
In addition to breaking a couple of windows in the house, the attackers also damaged the windows of a Mercedes 600 parked in the driveway. It is not thought that Sir Fred or his family have lived at the house since the row over his pension erupted - suggesting that he is probably enjoying life in an even more insultingly expensive house, and swanning about in an even more obscenely-ostentatious car.
A spokesman for Edinburgh's police said: "The force takes very seriously any planned attack on any individual or their property, even a horrible shit like Goodwin. We have now posted a police car outside his house, and our sharp-eyed officers will intercept anyone seen approaching the house with a balaclava and a hod to tell them not to waste their time damaging an empty property. We will then proceed to take down their details, and promise faithfully to text them the moment the greedy little turd comes slinking back."
"We've got a spare can of petrol in the boot, too, if they want it," he added.
Government Keen To Like Your Status
The government has announced its aim of spying on users of social networking websites such as Facebook and MySpace, after it emerged that Gordon Brown has issued friend requests to every single user in Britain, all of whom instantly rejected him.
Home Office Minister Vernon Poaker told a Commons committee that the Prime Minister was a sad, lonely man whose one desperate wish in the whole wide world was simply to know what everyone was saying, doing and thinking at any given moment of the day and night.
"Imagine how you would feel if you really wanted a game of Scrabulous, but the only name on your friend list was George W Bush," said Mr Poaker sorrowfully. "Even Mr Brown's own Cabinet colleagues have blocked him."
"There is nothing even remotely sinister about the government having access to everybody's innermost thoughts," he reassured the public. "Mr Brown would be overjoyed to receive a group invitation to a flash-mob event just once in his tragic, empty life. He would love to invite fellow users to join his group for fans of pocket calculators. He is particularly proud of his original, late-seventies Casio fx81 with its original vinyl pouch - as anyone who joins will discover by browsing his thrilling photographs and an amusing video clip of its sticking '0' button, which has caused him no end of trouble over the years."
"Gordon is particularly keen to hear from anyone who owns a working Ti59 programmable, the Rolls-Royce of calculators in its day," added Mr Poaker. "Failing that, he would dearly love the population to complete his just-for-fun quiz, in which he asks what colour everyone's pants and shoes are, and whether they have ever expressed any opinions contrary to his own."
Home Office Minister Vernon Poaker told a Commons committee that the Prime Minister was a sad, lonely man whose one desperate wish in the whole wide world was simply to know what everyone was saying, doing and thinking at any given moment of the day and night.
"Imagine how you would feel if you really wanted a game of Scrabulous, but the only name on your friend list was George W Bush," said Mr Poaker sorrowfully. "Even Mr Brown's own Cabinet colleagues have blocked him."
"There is nothing even remotely sinister about the government having access to everybody's innermost thoughts," he reassured the public. "Mr Brown would be overjoyed to receive a group invitation to a flash-mob event just once in his tragic, empty life. He would love to invite fellow users to join his group for fans of pocket calculators. He is particularly proud of his original, late-seventies Casio fx81 with its original vinyl pouch - as anyone who joins will discover by browsing his thrilling photographs and an amusing video clip of its sticking '0' button, which has caused him no end of trouble over the years."
"Gordon is particularly keen to hear from anyone who owns a working Ti59 programmable, the Rolls-Royce of calculators in its day," added Mr Poaker. "Failing that, he would dearly love the population to complete his just-for-fun quiz, in which he asks what colour everyone's pants and shoes are, and whether they have ever expressed any opinions contrary to his own."
BMW Driver Demands Removal of Clifftop Fence Blocking His Route
A purple-faced fuckwit in a BMW is furiously demanding that somebody removes the wire barrier from the edge of a 100ft cliff in the Pennines which is preventing him from following the instructions from his satnav system.
Robert Jones slavishly followed the satnav's orders onto a muddy footpath near Todmorden, Yorkshire, and would cheerfully have driven over the edge of the cliff to tumble to his death had his car had not become entangled in the safety fence.
Mr Jones - who says he relies on his satnav for his job as a driver - is insisting that the instructions from a small plastic toy programmed in Taiwan are far more trustworthy than the evidence of his eyes or the weak protests from the tiny, shrivelled corner of his brain which handles common sense.
It has so far taken nine hours for West Yorkshire police to tow Mr Jones' BMW out of danger, partly because he insists on staying in the car with his foot on the accelerator and shouting, "What the fucking fuck do you think you're fucking doing? Take that fucking fence down, it's in my fucking way."
He has now been charged with driving without due care and attention, and exceeding the legal limit of arseholiness in a BMW.
The AA commented that some satnav systems were prone to occasional inaccuracies - but added that in this case perhaps the police should just remove the fence, as the world probably wouldn't lose too much sleep over one less wanker in a BMW.
Robert Jones slavishly followed the satnav's orders onto a muddy footpath near Todmorden, Yorkshire, and would cheerfully have driven over the edge of the cliff to tumble to his death had his car had not become entangled in the safety fence.
Mr Jones - who says he relies on his satnav for his job as a driver - is insisting that the instructions from a small plastic toy programmed in Taiwan are far more trustworthy than the evidence of his eyes or the weak protests from the tiny, shrivelled corner of his brain which handles common sense.
It has so far taken nine hours for West Yorkshire police to tow Mr Jones' BMW out of danger, partly because he insists on staying in the car with his foot on the accelerator and shouting, "What the fucking fuck do you think you're fucking doing? Take that fucking fence down, it's in my fucking way."
He has now been charged with driving without due care and attention, and exceeding the legal limit of arseholiness in a BMW.
The AA commented that some satnav systems were prone to occasional inaccuracies - but added that in this case perhaps the police should just remove the fence, as the world probably wouldn't lose too much sleep over one less wanker in a BMW.
Tuesday 24 March 2009
Brown Urges World To Become Hellish Conglomeration of Every Satirical Utopia Ever Written
Gordon Brown has delivered a remarkable speech to the Erewhonian Parliament today, urging Erewhon and Laputa to work together to forge a new "moral" global capitalism.
"The means to deal with the worldwide economic hurricane is staring us in the face," pouted Mr Brown as he explained his vision. "We must ensure that moral paragons of impeccable spiritual authority are allowed to run our financial institutions in a caring and responsible way. The accumulation of massive wealth by a greedy, privileged class is the only way in which money can be distributed equally throughout all levels of society."
The prime minister went on to outline some of the other spectacular ideas which had been coming to him lately at three in the morning.
"In Britain we are already seeing more and more convicted criminals working in law enforcement," he boasted. "But that is only the beginning. I look forward to the day when all of the world's police forces are staffed exclusively by amoral sociopaths, leading inevitably to the abolition of crime altogether. In Britain's brave new world we have also proudly pioneered the principle of democratic dictatorship, thanks to New Labour's dedicated implementation of popular totalitarianism. With the introduction of the Employment Support Allowance, we can be justly proud that we have gone a long way towards treating the sick and disabled like criminals. And in partnership with our great Laputan allies across the Atlantic, we have brought everlasting peace to the world through the barrel of a gun."
"But I do not want to rest on my laurels," he added, his voice rising to a crescendo. "I hope to see a world of caring carnivorism, in which the cruelty of nature red in tooth and claw is mitigated by heartfelt tears of pity and sympathy shed by predators. I shall be preaching this message to my great friends, the crocodiles, when I walk amongst them during my forthcoming visit to the Reptile House at London Zoo."
"The means to deal with the worldwide economic hurricane is staring us in the face," pouted Mr Brown as he explained his vision. "We must ensure that moral paragons of impeccable spiritual authority are allowed to run our financial institutions in a caring and responsible way. The accumulation of massive wealth by a greedy, privileged class is the only way in which money can be distributed equally throughout all levels of society."
The prime minister went on to outline some of the other spectacular ideas which had been coming to him lately at three in the morning.
"In Britain we are already seeing more and more convicted criminals working in law enforcement," he boasted. "But that is only the beginning. I look forward to the day when all of the world's police forces are staffed exclusively by amoral sociopaths, leading inevitably to the abolition of crime altogether. In Britain's brave new world we have also proudly pioneered the principle of democratic dictatorship, thanks to New Labour's dedicated implementation of popular totalitarianism. With the introduction of the Employment Support Allowance, we can be justly proud that we have gone a long way towards treating the sick and disabled like criminals. And in partnership with our great Laputan allies across the Atlantic, we have brought everlasting peace to the world through the barrel of a gun."
"But I do not want to rest on my laurels," he added, his voice rising to a crescendo. "I hope to see a world of caring carnivorism, in which the cruelty of nature red in tooth and claw is mitigated by heartfelt tears of pity and sympathy shed by predators. I shall be preaching this message to my great friends, the crocodiles, when I walk amongst them during my forthcoming visit to the Reptile House at London Zoo."
Terrorists Everywhere, Screams Home Secretary
The Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith, has warned that a devastating terrorist attack on Britain - probably involving deadly radioactive GM chemicals like Bifidus Actiregularis or Elastin - is "an absolute dead cert" before the week is out, and is taking bold steps to counter its devastating effect on the nation by training shop managers to deal effectively with the threat.
Unveiling the government's latest counter-terrorism strategy, entitled 'I'm Strictly An Idol Dragon's Apprentice Who Wants To Be On Ice, Brother 2', Ms Smith announced plans to enlist the "widest range" of gullible members of the public and convince them that everyone they meet is probably a terrorist plotting to kill them.
"I don't think tackling terrorism is something we can solely depend on the police and our security and intelligence agencies to do," she told the press. "After all, if your car goes wrong you don't have to go to a service centre to fix it. Armed with an old Haynes manual and a box of spanners, you're just as capable of reprogramming its electronic engine management suite all by yourself."
Shop staff selected to attend Ms Smith's comprehensive three-hour anti-terrorism courses will learn to identify the following giveaway signs that the shopper at their till is a crazed desperado on a mission to maim:
- has beard;
- asks for directions to the halal section;
- never purchases six-packs of beer, not even in amazing buy-one-get-one-free deals;
- debit card shows the tell-tale name 'Mohammed' is in there somewhere;
- speaks with Brazilian accent.
According to the Home Office, any murderous terrorists uncovered by these simple-but-foolproof guidelines are to be detained in the ice-lolly freezer, which should be upended to prevent their escape. The thermostat should be adjusted to its lowest setting, as the drastic reduction in temperature might very well freeze the detonator of the massive cobalt bomb that is almost certainly concealed somewhere about their person.
Finally, Ms Smith concluded, in order to increase public awareness of the ever-present dual threats of terrorism and smoking, counter staff will also be urged to demand conclusive proof that each and every customer is not a terrorist before selling them 20 B&H.
Unveiling the government's latest counter-terrorism strategy, entitled 'I'm Strictly An Idol Dragon's Apprentice Who Wants To Be On Ice, Brother 2', Ms Smith announced plans to enlist the "widest range" of gullible members of the public and convince them that everyone they meet is probably a terrorist plotting to kill them.
"I don't think tackling terrorism is something we can solely depend on the police and our security and intelligence agencies to do," she told the press. "After all, if your car goes wrong you don't have to go to a service centre to fix it. Armed with an old Haynes manual and a box of spanners, you're just as capable of reprogramming its electronic engine management suite all by yourself."
Shop staff selected to attend Ms Smith's comprehensive three-hour anti-terrorism courses will learn to identify the following giveaway signs that the shopper at their till is a crazed desperado on a mission to maim:
- has beard;
- asks for directions to the halal section;
- never purchases six-packs of beer, not even in amazing buy-one-get-one-free deals;
- debit card shows the tell-tale name 'Mohammed' is in there somewhere;
- speaks with Brazilian accent.
According to the Home Office, any murderous terrorists uncovered by these simple-but-foolproof guidelines are to be detained in the ice-lolly freezer, which should be upended to prevent their escape. The thermostat should be adjusted to its lowest setting, as the drastic reduction in temperature might very well freeze the detonator of the massive cobalt bomb that is almost certainly concealed somewhere about their person.
Finally, Ms Smith concluded, in order to increase public awareness of the ever-present dual threats of terrorism and smoking, counter staff will also be urged to demand conclusive proof that each and every customer is not a terrorist before selling them 20 B&H.
Monday 23 March 2009
Employmentdale
Trouble broke out at Westminster Farm today, as one pig accused another pig of taking too much swill from the trough. The disagreement flared when Pot-Bellied Tom was discovered to have eaten not only his own generous share of swill, but also a sizeable helping for his sire and grand-dam.
A jealous Gloucester Old Spot called Greg called the other farmyard animals round, and angrily waved a trotter at a gathering group of ruddy swains looking thoughtfully into the trough.
"Thanks to the swinish greed of Pot-Bellied Tom," he squealed, "Ordinary pigs like me are now in real danger of having our own modest consumption rudely checked. Oink."
"I have done nothing wrong," Tom told an inquisitive chicken, wiping swill from his snout. "There is nothing in the rules which my fellow pigs wrote which you can possibly get me for. Oink."
"Oi bain't too 'appy 'bout all this, me 'ansum," said one of the famished-looking swineherds. "Faarmer Giles, 'e do reckon there be a blimmin' great shortage o' swill all 'cross the 'ole wurrold. Arter all they fat great piggies 'as 'ad they fill, there bain't bugger all slops left for oi an' me mates. Oi tell 'ee true, if us so much as puts a finger in that there trough afore they piggies 'as glutted theyselves fit to burstin', they all sets up a mighty 'oller -'specially that fat bugger Tom - an' Farmer Giles, 'e come out wavin' 'ees gurt big stick at us 'n' utterin' all manner o' dire threats. 'Taint furr! 'Taint furr 't'all, I tell 'ee."
Pot-Bellied Tom then snorted derisively, raised his little curly tail and sprayed foul-smelling slurry all over the horny-handed rustic and his hapless fellow-labourers, before sinking his head deep into the trough again.
A jealous Gloucester Old Spot called Greg called the other farmyard animals round, and angrily waved a trotter at a gathering group of ruddy swains looking thoughtfully into the trough.
"Thanks to the swinish greed of Pot-Bellied Tom," he squealed, "Ordinary pigs like me are now in real danger of having our own modest consumption rudely checked. Oink."
"I have done nothing wrong," Tom told an inquisitive chicken, wiping swill from his snout. "There is nothing in the rules which my fellow pigs wrote which you can possibly get me for. Oink."
"Oi bain't too 'appy 'bout all this, me 'ansum," said one of the famished-looking swineherds. "Faarmer Giles, 'e do reckon there be a blimmin' great shortage o' swill all 'cross the 'ole wurrold. Arter all they fat great piggies 'as 'ad they fill, there bain't bugger all slops left for oi an' me mates. Oi tell 'ee true, if us so much as puts a finger in that there trough afore they piggies 'as glutted theyselves fit to burstin', they all sets up a mighty 'oller -'specially that fat bugger Tom - an' Farmer Giles, 'e come out wavin' 'ees gurt big stick at us 'n' utterin' all manner o' dire threats. 'Taint furr! 'Taint furr 't'all, I tell 'ee."
Pot-Bellied Tom then snorted derisively, raised his little curly tail and sprayed foul-smelling slurry all over the horny-handed rustic and his hapless fellow-labourers, before sinking his head deep into the trough again.
Ban These Unholy Flying Contraptions, Say Scribes
Horrified by yet more aircraft dropping out of the ether, scribes are today issuing calls for the unnatural black art of flying to be banned altogether.
As air-accident inquisitors in the United States and Japan pick through the smouldering, shattered shards of two of the infernal, sorcerous devices, more and more peasants are reported to be crossing themselves in fear every time an aeroplane darkens the sky above them.
"The time for urging everyone foolish enough to travel by means of witchcraft to spend the entire journey praying ceaselessly for their ultimate salvation is over," said a leader-writer of illuminated manuscripts with a scroll in journalism. "Thankfully, the MD11 cargo broomstick that crashed on landing at Narita Airport only killed the two cackling sorcerers riding on it, Jehovah be praised.
"But it could so easily have come plummeting down smack on top of a monastic cloister, or a petting farm full of happy, innocent children. And, horror of horrors, the PC-12 that crashed in Montana actually was carrying several younglings - no doubt snatched by the wicked wizard pilots to be sacrificed in unspeakable ceremonies at their crack'd and ruin'd castle on Firetop Mountain as part of the blasphemous rites which they regularly conduct to summon and confer with their lord and master, Satan himself. Still, the loving Lord's hand moved the tumbling abomination to bury itself in a cemetery, so the little children's souls are already safe and sound with Jesus."
"The faithful must not rest until those to whom God has granted earthly authority agree to dig the mortal remains of the villainous mages out from this sanctified place of interment and dump them with all speed into unconsecrated ground, with a brick in their mouths," warned the editorial. "Otherwise, doubt not but that the vampiric corpses of the damned will feast like ghouls upon the hallowed remains of Montana's dearly-beloved forefathers, cruelly denying those blessed souls a mortal shell on that glorious day when the resurrection trumpet shall mightily sound. Amen."
As air-accident inquisitors in the United States and Japan pick through the smouldering, shattered shards of two of the infernal, sorcerous devices, more and more peasants are reported to be crossing themselves in fear every time an aeroplane darkens the sky above them.
"The time for urging everyone foolish enough to travel by means of witchcraft to spend the entire journey praying ceaselessly for their ultimate salvation is over," said a leader-writer of illuminated manuscripts with a scroll in journalism. "Thankfully, the MD11 cargo broomstick that crashed on landing at Narita Airport only killed the two cackling sorcerers riding on it, Jehovah be praised.
"But it could so easily have come plummeting down smack on top of a monastic cloister, or a petting farm full of happy, innocent children. And, horror of horrors, the PC-12 that crashed in Montana actually was carrying several younglings - no doubt snatched by the wicked wizard pilots to be sacrificed in unspeakable ceremonies at their crack'd and ruin'd castle on Firetop Mountain as part of the blasphemous rites which they regularly conduct to summon and confer with their lord and master, Satan himself. Still, the loving Lord's hand moved the tumbling abomination to bury itself in a cemetery, so the little children's souls are already safe and sound with Jesus."
"The faithful must not rest until those to whom God has granted earthly authority agree to dig the mortal remains of the villainous mages out from this sanctified place of interment and dump them with all speed into unconsecrated ground, with a brick in their mouths," warned the editorial. "Otherwise, doubt not but that the vampiric corpses of the damned will feast like ghouls upon the hallowed remains of Montana's dearly-beloved forefathers, cruelly denying those blessed souls a mortal shell on that glorious day when the resurrection trumpet shall mightily sound. Amen."
Sunday 22 March 2009
Goody Death Stops World Turning
A year of national mourning begins today, after a sobbing Max Clifford told the world that Jade Goody had finally given up her long struggle for publicity and expired with a loud fart in the small hours of this morning.
Mr Clifford said that - in addition to himself, a photographer from the News of the World, a Dying TV film crew and an artist-in-residence - Ms Goody's mother Jakkquiey-ee, thugsband Jack Twatt and a beer buddy called Kevin were at her bedside when she was finally evicted from the Big Brother House of life.
"I fink she's gunna be remembud as a young girl wot as, and wot will, save an orful lot of lives, wot wiv razin awernuss of civical cansa inall, cos nobugga ad never erd uv it befaw she wen an got it, like," said the Kevin in a moving tribute. "She wuz a very, very brave girl innit, an she faced ur def in the way she faced ur ole life. Farst asleep."
Mr Clifford said he hoped the family would be left to grieve in peace, at least until he had signed them all up to sell the slavering newspapers their exclusive stories of how Jade's epic battle to die with publicity would change their lives forever.
Within minutes of the announcement, Ms Goody's home was completely buried under a growing mountain of flowers left by a grieving public who had somehow managed to find a well-stocked florist open at dawn on a Sunday morning.
The government told the shocked nation that black armbands would be mandatory for the next twelve months, and anybody callous enough not to be wearing one in public would be subjected to summary mob justice.
"Thank God the British public has been prepared for this awful day by the dress rehearsals so kindly provided by Wendy Richard and Natasha Richardson," said Gordon Brown. "From now on, Mother's Day will be officially renamed Jade Day so that future generations can learn to live by her shining example."
All eyes have turned to Buckingham Palace, however, where a baying mob is threatening to storm the gates and tear the Queen limb from limb unless she immediately hoists a flag at half mast before abasing herself on the balcony before the nation in floods of tears.
Meanwhile, Harrods owner Mohammed Fayed rang reporters to say that he had been out for a stroll near Ms Goody's house shortly before her demise, and was certain that he had seen Prince Philip driving away at speed in a white Fiat Uno.
Indeed, even more outlandish conspiracy theories are beginning to appear on the internet to cast doubts on whether Ms Goody is really dead, with some bloggers going so far as to claim that her whole life may in fact be nothing more than a gigantic media hoax perpetrated over several years by Dom Joly.
Ms Goody's autopsy is to be broadcast live exclusively on Dying TV, said Mr Clifford.
Mr Clifford said that - in addition to himself, a photographer from the News of the World, a Dying TV film crew and an artist-in-residence - Ms Goody's mother Jakkquiey-ee, thugsband Jack Twatt and a beer buddy called Kevin were at her bedside when she was finally evicted from the Big Brother House of life.
"I fink she's gunna be remembud as a young girl wot as, and wot will, save an orful lot of lives, wot wiv razin awernuss of civical cansa inall, cos nobugga ad never erd uv it befaw she wen an got it, like," said the Kevin in a moving tribute. "She wuz a very, very brave girl innit, an she faced ur def in the way she faced ur ole life. Farst asleep."
Mr Clifford said he hoped the family would be left to grieve in peace, at least until he had signed them all up to sell the slavering newspapers their exclusive stories of how Jade's epic battle to die with publicity would change their lives forever.
Within minutes of the announcement, Ms Goody's home was completely buried under a growing mountain of flowers left by a grieving public who had somehow managed to find a well-stocked florist open at dawn on a Sunday morning.
The government told the shocked nation that black armbands would be mandatory for the next twelve months, and anybody callous enough not to be wearing one in public would be subjected to summary mob justice.
"Thank God the British public has been prepared for this awful day by the dress rehearsals so kindly provided by Wendy Richard and Natasha Richardson," said Gordon Brown. "From now on, Mother's Day will be officially renamed Jade Day so that future generations can learn to live by her shining example."
All eyes have turned to Buckingham Palace, however, where a baying mob is threatening to storm the gates and tear the Queen limb from limb unless she immediately hoists a flag at half mast before abasing herself on the balcony before the nation in floods of tears.
Meanwhile, Harrods owner Mohammed Fayed rang reporters to say that he had been out for a stroll near Ms Goody's house shortly before her demise, and was certain that he had seen Prince Philip driving away at speed in a white Fiat Uno.
Indeed, even more outlandish conspiracy theories are beginning to appear on the internet to cast doubts on whether Ms Goody is really dead, with some bloggers going so far as to claim that her whole life may in fact be nothing more than a gigantic media hoax perpetrated over several years by Dom Joly.
Ms Goody's autopsy is to be broadcast live exclusively on Dying TV, said Mr Clifford.
Naked Pictures of Politician Not Gordon Brown: Relieved Britain Unclenches Arse Muscles
News Limited, an Australian newspaper group owned by Rupert Murdoch, has apologised for publishing fake nude photographs of the right-wing politician Pauline Hanson in the run-up to Saturday's elections in Queensland, which are thought to have contributed to her failure to win a seat.
Ms Hanson achieved international notoriety in the 90s, when she claimed that Australia was "in danger of being swamped by Asians."
A red-faced Blimey Strewth, editor of Sydney's Sunday Pornograph, said that, when a man with a briefcase full of nudey pics turned up calling himself Jack Johnson and claiming to have been Ms Hanson's lover in the 70s, with the benefit of hindsight it might have been sensible to check up on whether Ms Hanson had ever actually had a boyfriend of that name.
Initial investigations appear to suggest that the mysterious 'Jack Johnson' may in fact be an elderly ex-Australian kingpin known as 'The Dirty Digger', now a US citizen with an Asian wife, who has stealthily built up some kind of dodgy globe-spanning organisation based upon a fabric of lies, political interference and tax avoidance run by members of his close 'family'.
Meanwhile, the editor of Melbourne's Sunday Herald Sun Times Mail Express World, Drongo Cobber, admitted that closer inspection might have cast doubt on whether the red-haired, stocky racist and politician would really have had such a small-breasted, brown-skinned body.
"Thirty years of ageing can change the human body in a lot of ways," he said ruefully, "But we really ought to have noticed that, although Ms Hanson's body would seem to have grown a foot taller and changed colour, her pasty face and ginger hair don't seem to have changed at all. Nor would she seem the most likely candidate to be photographed starkers on a bamboo verandah, fanning herself with a flattened conical hat."
"And the most cursory examination of the photographs ought to have suggested that, unless Ms Hanson was secretly a world expert in electronic miniaturisation, she probably wouldn't have been holding a small mobile phone to her ear in the seventies either," he added sheepishly. "Indeed, now that I look closely at the pictures, I'd guess that she probably doesn't have a small penis, either."
Ms Hanson achieved international notoriety in the 90s, when she claimed that Australia was "in danger of being swamped by Asians."
A red-faced Blimey Strewth, editor of Sydney's Sunday Pornograph, said that, when a man with a briefcase full of nudey pics turned up calling himself Jack Johnson and claiming to have been Ms Hanson's lover in the 70s, with the benefit of hindsight it might have been sensible to check up on whether Ms Hanson had ever actually had a boyfriend of that name.
Initial investigations appear to suggest that the mysterious 'Jack Johnson' may in fact be an elderly ex-Australian kingpin known as 'The Dirty Digger', now a US citizen with an Asian wife, who has stealthily built up some kind of dodgy globe-spanning organisation based upon a fabric of lies, political interference and tax avoidance run by members of his close 'family'.
Meanwhile, the editor of Melbourne's Sunday Herald Sun Times Mail Express World, Drongo Cobber, admitted that closer inspection might have cast doubt on whether the red-haired, stocky racist and politician would really have had such a small-breasted, brown-skinned body.
"Thirty years of ageing can change the human body in a lot of ways," he said ruefully, "But we really ought to have noticed that, although Ms Hanson's body would seem to have grown a foot taller and changed colour, her pasty face and ginger hair don't seem to have changed at all. Nor would she seem the most likely candidate to be photographed starkers on a bamboo verandah, fanning herself with a flattened conical hat."
"And the most cursory examination of the photographs ought to have suggested that, unless Ms Hanson was secretly a world expert in electronic miniaturisation, she probably wouldn't have been holding a small mobile phone to her ear in the seventies either," he added sheepishly. "Indeed, now that I look closely at the pictures, I'd guess that she probably doesn't have a small penis, either."
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