Saturday, 18 July 2009

Death of Great War Veteran Reminds Britain of Happier Days

Tributes have been pouring in, as public figures queue up to steal some of the limelight following the death of the world's oldest man, 113-year-old First World War veteran Henry Allingham.

"Nngg Henry Allington represented the generation whose youth and energy were callously thrown away by the tired, outmoded dinosaurs of a bygone sort of age thingy," said Prince Charles. "One knows exactly how that feels, and indeed many was the time that dear old Harold told one, 'Gorblimey, Your Royal Highness, is it not the case that everything was so much the better when we had a king?' on his many visits to Highgrove, as we sat round a campfire reminiscing about our military experiences over a tin of Maconochie stew."

The Queen added her words of praise, saying: "One kept up a warm-hearted telegraphic correspondence with Hardy Allerton for nearly fourteen years. He represented the traditional values which made Great Britain great. He persevered faithfully and without question in his allotted duty, fully prepared to cling on to a scarcely-defensible position of no real value until the cold hand of death prised him away."

"Have you finished?" grunted Gordon Brown, pushing his way to the microphones. "Horny Alleyman was representative of a vanished era, a time in which the lowly masses went off with a smile and a wave to an unending war of attrition on inhospitable foreign soil, even though none of them had the faintest idea what on earth it was that they were fighting and dying for. Modern Britain could learn a lot from those far-off halcyon days, when the common herd knew their place, and cheerfully accepted the wisdom of their leaders without grumble or comment."

"Er... I was his MP, you know," said Nigel Waterson, Tory MP for Eastbourne, Willingdon and East Dean, as TV journalists packed their cameras away.

MoD Guilty of 'Repairs', Alleges Father of Dead Hero

The Ministry of Defence has been criticised for repairing a helicopter, in a withering blast from the angry father of a soldier killed by a mine in Afghanistan - a man whose tragic loss has not only put him above all criticism, but has made him one of the world's foremost experts on helicopter maintenance.

Ian Sadler, of Exmouth, says he fainted in shock when he happened upon the shameful truth - in a letter written to him by the MoD - that a Chinook helicopter whose tail-mounted engine was damaged in a landing accident had its rear fuselage replaced in 2003 with parts from another machine captured in the Falklands War, and has been operating normally ever since.

"Everyone I have told about the helicopter being a 'cut and shut' has responded with disbelief, before walking off making circle signs around their temples with their fingers in a clear display of disgust at the lunacy of the MoD," said a purple-faced Mr Sadler. "It is penny pinching and an insult to the young men who are going to Afghanistan and risking, and losing, their lives. What they ought to have done, if they had a shred of responsibility, is to throw the damn thing away and buy another one, like you do when your car fails its MOT."

"How dare these bastards even think of repairing damaged aircraft?" he continued as he shook his fist at a small child building a sandcastle. "It's only a sheer bloody miracle that the tail hasn't fallen off this rattling deathtrap, spilling our brave lads out into thin air to be splattered all over the rocky terrain of the Afghan theatre of operations. Never mind that this is standard operating procedure in the military units of the world, or that the repair was carried out by highly-qualified RAF engineers, extensively air-tested and signed off by the manufacturers."

"When my wing mirror got snapped off, I had my last car towed down the scrapheap immediately and bought a new one," shouted Mr Sadler to an elderly couple on the Exmouth seafront. "Anything less would be an insult to my poor dead son."

Friday, 17 July 2009

Recession Definitely Caused By Swine Flu, Say Suits

The continuing recession is all swine flu's fault, according to a lot of very wealthy men in suits, and definitely nothing to do with them.

Separate reports from business leaders and highly-paid consultants claim that the H1N1 virus bears sole responsibility for the economic woes of the world, as people are now locking themselves in their homes and refusing to spend any money in case they catch piggy death from the change.

"Make no mistake, that bastard virus is to blame for everything. Hic," said business consultancy expert Nick Things as he staggered from an advisory lunch with Lloyds Bank bosses at Gordon Ramsey's exclusive Chelsea restaurant, Le Cercle, after telling them they probably wouldn't miss another 1,200 IT staff as long as their computer network didn't fall over any time in the next few years. "Now the little people are taking time off sick, avoiding foreign travel and spending less money, damn them all to hell - and it's purely because of this sodding virus. Now if you'll excuse me, old boy, I think I'm going to be copiously sick."

"Listen to my voice. There was no recession until this flu business kicked off," agreed leading futures trader Rob Blind in a soothing voice, as he swung a diamond-encrusted Breitling watch in front of TV cameras. "Everything was fine. You were happy and prosperous. There - was - no - recession."

Say it," he added.

More Equipment Will Definitely Bring Lasting Peace To Afghanistan, Says Defence Chief

The Chief of Defence Staff, Sir Jock Strap, says the army definitely needs more and better equipment if it is to have any hope of fulfilling its mission in Afghanistan, whatever it is.

"More helicopters would be nice, yes," he told reporters after a meeting with the Prime Minister in Downing Street. "Although it would be nice if we could use the ones we've had grounded for years because the Yanks won't give us the software codes. So we're stripping all the Scouts, Whirlwinds, Wessexes and Dragonflies from the nation's aviation museums, sanding down the rust patches and shipping them out as fast as we can. They may be old, but by God they're British. Apart from the Whirlwinds, Wessexes and Dragonflies, that is."

"We're also short of armoured personnel carriers, by which I mean something a bit more substantial than a 4x4 with no doors on it," he went on. "So we're currently investigating the possibility of bolting Chobham armour onto a range of affordable town runabouts, like the Smart and that funny-looking new Toyota."

"We also have a pressing operational requirement for a reconnaissance plane that doesn't spontaneously self-combust and a transport that doesn't blow up when somebody takes a pop at it with a rifle," continued Sir Jock, with a dreamy look in his eye. "Fortunately, there's a pink Spitfire that does the rounds at air shows which would seem to fit the former role perfectly, while there are now loads of Dakotas kicking around surplus to requirements in the joyride industry, ever since the government insisted on fitting them with terrorist-proof cockpit bulkheads, and evacuation chutes for the 3ft drop from the door to the ground."

"Of course, what we really need is two gigantic aircraft carriers and some new nuclear missiles," he concluded. "When Johnny Taleban sees HMS QE2 tearing up the road in his direction at 35 knots, decks melting from the combined vertical thrust of a squadron of Joint Strike Fighters, and turns tail only to see his retreat cut off by a big black sub coming up out of the sand, he'll soon acknowledge the tactical weakness of his position."

Pope Breaks Saluting Arm

Surgeons have operated on Pope Benedict XVI, after the pontiff broke his right wrist during a particularly energetic saluting fit whilst enjoying a holiday in Northern Italy.

"The Pope was having an emotional reunion with other former members of his Hitler Youth flak unit," said Dr Theodor Morelli, personal physician to the leader of the world's Catholics. "Somebody started singing the Horst Wessel song, one thing led to another and the next thing you know, all these old warhorses are leaping about with their right arms flailing about like pistons."

The 82-year-old Benedict was scheduled to lead the recital of the Angelus in nearby Romano Canavese on Sunday, but his spokesman, Monsignor Georg Schweinhund, has refused to confirm whether the event will now go ahead.

"We spent the best part of a year breaking His Holiness' habit of punching the rostrum with both fists and stretching his right arm to the sky whenever he spoke in public," he told reporters. "Now it looks like we'll have to start all over again."

Doctors are thought to have put the pontiff's entire right arm and shoulder in a rigid cast, but say he has quickly learned to jerk his torso backwards from the hips, flinging the injured arm upwards, in his efforts to salute his millions of brainwashed followers.

Thursday, 16 July 2009

Cherie Diagnosed With Swine Flu: Parties Held Across Britain

Swine flu parties are being held from Penzance to John O'Groats today, after it emerged that Cherie Booth QC had pulled out of an honorary degree award ceremony at Liverpool Hope University after allegedly being diagnosed with the H1N1 virus.

Although it is reported that her husband, ex-PM Tony Blair, is so far exhibiting no signs of infection, millions of ordinary people clearly feel it is only a matter of time, and have spent the day setting up trestle tables in their streets and drinking to his imminent ill-health.

Mr Blair's impending battle with a potential killer disease comes hot on the heels of an announcement by Baroness Kinnock that the architect of 21st-century Britain, bringer of peace to the Middle East, economic guru to the world's top banks and intermediary between God and the Pope is to be the UK's preferred candidate for the presidency of the European Union.

"Tony Blair's candidacy should take some of the heat off the prime minister," announced the Minister for Europe. "People are blaming Gordon for the loss of their jobs, the rising price of everything, the unnecessary deaths of our troops in Afghanistan and national bankruptcy for the rest of their children's lives. But when Tony appears on their screens, grinning like a wanking chimp as usual, hopefully they will remember who set the ball rolling in the first place, only to shamelessly jump ship and line his own pockets the moment he realised the jig was up."

Mr Blair's spokesman, however, pointed out that the job of EU president does not actually exist, will not exist unless all countries adopt the Lisbon Treaty and if it ever does exist will almost certainly not pay him enough to get out of bed.

"Ah-choo," he added.

Something About Autism, Says Somebody Or Other

Some charity or other has called for something to be done about people with autism.

"Adults with autism are largely ignored by society," droned a spokesman. "Blah, blah, blah."

"Local authorities in England admit that they have no idea how many people in their area have autism, what it is, or why it matters," he told an empty press briefing.

Tory leader David Cameron was due to turn up later at a conference somewhere and mouth some platitudes, on the off-chance that there might be some votes in it.

"Autism? Bollocks," said a spokesman for the Benefits Agency. "They've got two arms, two legs and a head, haven't they, so it's not a proper disability, is it? Frankly, mate, we're turning down new claims for ESA from people with one working arm now, so those workshy skivers have got no chance."

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

Labour Successfully Alienates Last Remaining Supporters

Prime Minister Gordon Brown was seen dancing naked and smeared in his own dung in Downing Street today, after successfully identifying and alienating Labour's last remaining core voters with his new plan to charge them an unfeasible sum for the privilege of having their bottoms washed by a surly teenager on compulsory work experience.

The proposal - one of several options discussed in a Green Paper launched today - would put an end to the current system of meanness-testing, by which lifelong readers of the Daily Mail have to sell their houses, plate collections and grandchildren to pay for a louse-infested bunk in a wooden shack run by pitiless immigrant SS medical experimenters while elderly jobless scum dodder joyfully into free council-run palaces to be waited on hand and foot by liveried servants.

Instead, the government's preferred option is to force everyone to pay £20,000 when they reach the age of 65, for care they may never need, especially if they are forced to work until they drop dead.

Labour's last remaining 200,000 supporters, who are all drooling in care homes, vowed that they would use their party membership cards as toilet paper, if only they could reach.

"I'm 82!" raged Elsie Norris, 87, as she asked her care assistant to stuff a picture of the Prime Minister into her incontinence pants. "82!"

"Are you my dad?" agreed her husband Reg, 90. "I fought in a war, for people like you. These hands here killed Hitler - yes! They put bromide in the tea here, you know."

Alternative schemes dreamed up by Mr Brown to piss off anyone still under the illusion that New Labour bears any relation to the party that gave Britain the NHS and a cradle-to-grave welfare state include a privately-run insurance scheme in which all care is withheld until £25,000 has been paid in, or the state paying for a third of care costs - leaving the elderly to fund the rest by donating organs, drug testing or prostitution.

The Green Paper also points out that bed and board costs - currently averaging around £16,000 a year - will not be covered, in case anyone thinks they might conceivably be able to afford care if they start saving the moment they leave school.

"Let's face it, the next election could go either way - no, seriously," the shit-covered PM told reporters. "But after that, everybody who remembers the 1945 election will be dead, so we won't have to play nicey-nicey to the selfish old farts any more. We will recognise them for the useless mouths they are, making no contribution whatsoever to society. In the future, bin men will be given the additional job of picking up unsightly corpses littering the streets and chucking them in the back of the lorry with the rest of the rubbish. I thought of it last night actually, when I heard about that pissed-up bloke in Brighton. Cheers, pal - your death was not in vain."

Mr Brown then tried to bite several reporters, until his handlers led him back inside Number Ten.

Plague-Minded Bishop Bans Holy Water

The Bishop of Chelmsford, the Right Reverend John Gladwin, is urging the Essex faithful to avoid holy water like the plague, unless they want to die horrible piggy deaths.

"Christ on a bleedin' bike, yer bleedin' slag! Avyer gotta def wish or summink?" he bellowed as he smashed his crozier down on the fingers of Liz Winters, 57, as she reached for the font by the entrance to his Chelmsford church. He then viciously hooked her neck backwards, forcing her to look at a noticeboard covered in Sun articles warning that everyone in Britain could - and almost certainly will - die of swine flu, probably before the month is out.

"I betcher orredy got it, incha, yer darft ol' bat," he hissed in her face. "Well, yerz can piss off 'ome ter die. Git on, fack orf outa God's bleedin' 'ahse, befaw I kicks seven bells uv shit aht o'yerz!"

"An' that goes fer the rest o' yerz an' all, yer miserable sinners," he added unctiously. "Git on, 'op it!"

"I think what His Grace the Bishop is trying to impress upon his flock is that he fears that the ceremonial stoups of holy water may harbour the H1N1 virus, should they be used by infected persons," explained the bishop's chaplain, Chris Newlands. "He is also concerned that the ceremonial blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ could become a vehicle for the spread of the virus by passing the chalice from communicants carrying the flu strain to those as yet uninfected, unless the sacrament is consumed solely by the officiating priest."

"Yer, woteva, ya pasty-faced ponce," snarled the bishop. "Piss-up in the vestry afterwards, if yer fink yer 'ard enuff."

"I'm immune, innit, see?" added Rt Rev Gladwin. "God wouldn't dare strike me dahn, 'cos I'm 'oly as fuck."