Saturday 12 February 2011

Middle Classes Not Best Pleased At Prospect Of Joining Ranks Of Workshy Scroungers

"What? I have to come to you?"
Britain’s chattering classes will soon be experiencing at first hand the delights of Jobcentreplus, according to Ken Clarke. The justice secretary made his unwelcome boast today in the Daily Telegraph, striking terror into the ice-cold hearts of Middle England.

“I’ve spent most of 2010 crowing about how all those feckless unemployed skivers richly deserve to have the work ethic rammed into them by being forcibly enlisted into demeaning manual labour schemes just to keep their miserable benefits,” howled Jessica Tweigh, a pinch-mouthed harridan from Sussex who works as a buyer in the fashion industry. “How dare that silly man insinuate that I shall be on the receiving end of the same harsh treatment before the year is out? Obviously it should only apply to people who live on council estates, or north of Watford.”

“Not that I’m in any danger of losing my job, of course,” she snapped. “What nonsense. Why, all my friends and neighbours simply have to replace their entire wardrobe on a fortnightly basis.”

“But if I should, of course, I shall expect better treatment that the scum,” she added. “Just in case, I’m drawing up a list of demands which I would present to the little Jobcentre monkey. First of all, they’ll have to ring weeks in advance to make any appointments. Secondly, I’d appreciate it if they could meet me for a power lunch – of course, I’ll expect them to pick up the bill. Thirdly, I shall demand an expense account; after all, they can hardly expect me to pay the running costs of driving a 4x4 all over the south east for interviews, can they? Obviously, they’ll be keeping up the monthly payments on it as well. And I can hardly turn up for an interview in the same outfit I wore to the previous one, can I? It’ll have creases in it.”

“Finally, Jobseeker’s Allowance simply won’t do,” she fumed. “It might seem like a king’s ransom to some breeder slut from Brighton, but it would barely cover one dinner party a fortnight, and I’ll need to keep those up for networking purposes. I’ll open negotiations at £1000 a week; I’m prepared to haggle down to £750 if it’s absolutely necessary, but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Of course, if Julian should lose his job too, I shall expect quite a bit more,” she added tartly.

The local Jobcentreplus, meanwhile, said they were eagerly looking forward to dealing with Ms. Tweigh.

“I gather that this lady has extensive experience in the retail sector,” said an advisor. “That’s good. There’s always quite a high turnover of staff in the stockroom at Argos.”

Friday 11 February 2011

Western Fans Of Democracy Thrilled By Military Takeover Of Egypt

Democracy arrives at last in Egypt
Enthusiastic supporters of democracy throughout the Western world cheered in delight today, as hated dictator Hosni Mubarak prepared to formally hand over power to Egypt’s shadowy generals.

“The transfer of power from the most recent member of an uninterrupted line of former military officers to an unelected élite of serving military officers proves conclusively that the democratic will of the ordinary protester in the street has been heard at last,” said every starry-eyed idealist on Facebook. “From now until forever, everything in Egypt is going to be really, really lovely and nice. After all, what could possibly go wrong?”

Back in Britain, meanwhile, representatives of the Countryside Alliance - who organised a million-strong protest in London in favour of blood sports nine years ago - say they are eagerly waiting for an invitation from the Queen to form a government.

Public Don’t Deserve The Right To Vote, Say Prison Inmates

Prisoners today expressed anger and outrage at the thought that the general public should be allowed to vote in elections, after hearing that the people of Britain not only showed no remorse for illegally denying prisoners their human rights, but arrogantly boasted that they intend to keep reoffending in future.

“I only done over a post office - well, awright, six,” complained ‘Fingers’ McGee, who is serving twelve years in HMP High Down for armed robbery, “But I never ‘urt no-one, right? These buggers, though, they just ain’t like decent crims. This bunch don’t fink nuffink of denyin’ basic ‘uman rights to anyone they don’t like the look of. They bin gittin’ away wiv it for years, an’ now they bin cort bang to rights it’s like they fink the law don’t apply to them, like they’re above it or summink. They’ll just carry on breakin’ international law an’ larffin’ about it, unless somebody stops their lark good an’ proper.”

Scum like this don't deserve votes, say disgusted prisoners
“First they start bangin’ on abaht crims an’ getting’ away wiv it,” he warned. “Pretty soon they’ll start takin’ ‘uman rights off of uvvers wot can’t defend theirselfs, like the doleys and the disabled, and pretty soon it’ll be anyone else they dun’t partic’ly take a shine to. Where’s it gunna end, eh? Answer me that.”

Stepping out of the shower block naked and proud, legendary criminal Big Ron expressed total agreement. “I just done a bit of GBH ‘ere an’ there – well OK, an’ the odd murder - an’ I’m genuinely sorry an’ all, even if them fackers wuz arskin’ for it. This crahd, this general public mob, see, ’ahss a different matter. They dahn’ give a monkeys abaht fair play, decency or ‘uman dignity. No ifs, no buts - they robs yer of yer right to vote for the poncy twat of yer choice – an’ they dun’ even see naffink wrong wiv it!”

“They awter be locked up in ‘eah wiv me, I tell yer,” he suggested. “They’d soon be squealin’ faw their bladdy rights.”

“Speshly the ones wot fink ver ‘ard,” he smiled grimly, casually flicking a wet towel. “I lavs a challenge.”

Meanwhile, shocked liberal European democracies are wondering what to do about a rogue element in their midst which defiantly continues to crow about its illegal activities.

“It seems pretty obvious that a fine isn’t an effective deterrent,” said a worried Denmark. “With habitual offenders like the British, the only punishment that’s got any chance of making them stop and think about what they’re doing is a custodial sentence. They should be locked away for a very long time, so decent countries can go about their lawful business without facing constant abuse, threats and violence from an ignorant, brutal gang of yobboes who clearly have no intention of respecting the rules and customs of civilised society.”

Wednesday 9 February 2011

Oxbridge To Set Up Scumbag College

One truckload of  economy-class proles has already been delivered
Responding to criticism from deputy prime minister Nick Clegg, who warned them that they would be prevented from charging the maximum £9,000 tuition fees unless they “dramatically” improved access for poor people, the universities of Oxford and Cambridge have promised to set up a new, jointly-funded college exclusively for lower-class mongrels.

The new Scumbag College will be sited exactly halfway between the two university towns, on an industrial estate immediately to the north of London Luton Airport.

A broad spectrum of disciplines will be offered to Scumbag’s ghastly undergraduates, according to dons. The hi-tech Science Car Park will offer Idiotics, Applied Violence, Xbox Studies and Psychoology; the Arts and Humanities warehouse will cover traditional courses such as Freeview Studies, Bad Language, Graffiti History and Play-Doh Sculpture; and the Scumbag Business Shed will teach Politics and Banking.

“A tear-off qualification from Scumbag will have exactly the same value as a real degree from any of the more respectable Oxford and Cambridge colleges,” promised Mr Clegg. “In the language of its intended customer base, that’s 27 big ones squire - only upfront, if you don’t mind, as a smack in the mouth often offends.”

World Gasps In Wonder At 100% British Rocket Unicycle

The rest of the world gasped in respectful wonder yesterday when – proudly seizing the mantle of engineering genius passed down from the great Isambard Kingdom Brunel - plucky British boffins unveiled Bloodpoodle, the futuristic machine they confidently predict will smash the world land speed record for a rocket-powered unicycle.

Good luck, professor - make us proud
Teetering on his rickety mount, brave trick-cyclist Professor Terence Clipson was dwarfed by the mighty Rolls-Royce Olympus 593 afterburning turbojet – salvaged from a decommissioned Concorde – which is mounted on struts above his cycling helmet. Its 38,000 pounds of roaring British thrust will initially propel the flimsy monowheel to 1,900mph - at which point four sideslung rocket boosters will fire simultaneously, taking the shuddering, screaming monster to its projected maximum velocity of Mach 4, a fraction over 3,000mph.

Wobbling back and forth, Professor Clipson was at pains to deny that he will simply be a helpless passenger as his fiery unicycle careers along the Brighton seafront next week, at the apex of a 150-yard gout of flame.

“Whilst it is undeniably true that the Bloodpoodle differs from conventional unicycles in that it has no actual pedals as such,” he explained, furiously scribbling equations on the back of an envelope, “Nonetheless I still have a vital role to play in maintaining its precarious balance. Dear me, if I should lean so much as half an inch too far forward - even for a fraction of a second - this diabolical contraption could tunnel through the fragile mantle of the earth in less than half a minute, catastrophically transforming the whole of the South Downs into a gigantic, unstoppable volcano.”

When asked what purpose would be served by a Mach 4 unicycle, the professor blinked and asked for the question to be repeated slowly.

“Well…er, it’s British,” he explained, after giving the matter some thought.

Tuesday 8 February 2011

‘Oh – Er – Ouch,’ Say Banks

Britain’s leading bankers clutched their arms today, put on their really sad faces and theatrically clutched each other’s arms for support as chancellor George Osborne announced a massive 0.075% increase in the bank levy.

Let's not overdo it, chaps
The levy, which pre-empts Mr Osborne’s budget, is expected to claw back a less-than-satisfying total of £2.5bn a year from the hundreds of billions by which the banks are in hock to the taxpayer.

“Oh, please, Br’er George, sho’ ‘nuff you can do anything you like to us, but please don’ throw us in that itsy-witsy li’l briar patch,” chorused the heads of the four largest high street banks, rolling their eyes in mock terror. “Just over there, see? That little speck to the left of where the Aston Martin’s parked - that’s the one, right there. Whatever you do, doan’ throw us in that. That would really, really hurt.”

The chancellor played his part of the pantomime by pulling his very sternest face and wagging a reproachful finger at the bankers, who by now were shaking their knees furiously, pretending to bite their knuckles and trying very hard not to laugh.

After the curtain fell, to rapturous applause from the easily-pleased matinee audience, the bankers retired to L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon to drown their mock sorrows, award themselves even bigger bonuses and decide how many more mortgages and loans to refuse with a token shrug.

Look, Now You’ve Made Phillip Schofield Sad

Aww, wook at his sad witow eyes
ITV viewers were branded ‘cruel’ today by a protective Ofcom, after their complaints about something said by one twerp to another on some shit skating show upset dear little Phillip Schofield, 48.

2,000 of the sort of creature that watches ITV instead of enjoying the only life it’s got jammed switchboards with their sub-lingual bleating on Saturday night, after a thing called Karen Barber said something petty and spiteful about a thing called Jason Gardiner, after the Gardiner thing had cynically attempted to award points based on a newbie skater’s actual performance rather than his VC.

When poor little Phillip – who may or may not have something to do with the ratings-whoring undertaking, as if it matters – heard about the complaints, bless his little cotton socks, he poured his little heart out on Twitter.

“It’s crazy,” wailed the nicest little chap in television. “I like Auntie Karen lots, and I like Uncle Jason lots too. Will they really have to be put in the stocks next week and pelted with rotten cabbages? I don’t understand when people get cross, and now I’m all upset.”

Ofcom later confirmed that it would be investigating the nasty, horrid complainants, with a view to banning them from owning a television until they learn to say only nice things about people in future.

Monday 7 February 2011

Norse Justice Would See My Client’s Still-Beating Heart Brutally Hacked Out, Argues Assange Lawyer

Sweden is a ghastly benighted place, your honour
If Wikileaks hero Julian Assange were to be extradited to the bloodthirsty Viking realm of Sweden, claimed his barrister today, he would undoubtedly be sacrificed in the horrifying ‘Blood Eagle’ ritual - staked to a tree, his ribs hacked apart with a crude iron axe and his still-pulsating heart torn out before his rolling eyes.

“I am reliably informed that this blood-curdling atrocity is what passes for justice in dark, pagan Sweden, m’lud,” Geoffrey Robertson QC told Belmarsh Magistrates’ Court. “My source is no less an authority than Ælfric the Grammarian, a scholarly monk of impeccable repute who learned of it from Abbo of Fleury, who in turn was told by the blessed St. Edmund’s personal sword-bearer that this unspeakable rite was performed on his liege-lord even as the horrified squire looked on in mortal terror from a nearby hiding-place.”

“Sadly I am unable to call any of these witnesses, as they have long since crumbled into dust,” he added, “But Ælfric the Grammarian has been widely quoted as an historical authority for a thousand years, and I can therefore see no reason to cast doubt upon his veracity now.”

Mr Robertson also pointed out that there was a very real danger that his client’s bloody carcass would then be handed over by the Viking barbarians to the savage tribes of Vinland, who are notorious for butchering their captives by hacking their scalps off and wearing the grisly souvenirs as a mark of their prowess as warriors.

The magistrate, Sir George Jeffreys, then adjourned the hearing until tomorrow, in order to give the prosecution time to construct a ducking stool for Mr Assange.

Aguilera Sent To Guantanamo Bay For Treason

The murderous act a numbed America is already calling 2/6
Christina Aguilera has been flown, hooded and wearing an orange jumpsuit, to the notorious Guantanamo Bay detention centre after committing an unpardonable act of high treason against the United States of America, by murdering its defenceless national anthem at the nation’s most sacred ceremony, the Superb Owl.

Miss Aguilera seemed harmless at first, pitching the first four words correctly, but then millions of horrified viewers heard her turn the word ‘see’ into a hideous polysyllabic warble. But worse was to follow.

“Aguilera’s task was to sing 85 notes,” growled America’s foremost musicologist, Professor Ignatius Pop, 91. “Yet she unashamedly yodelled no less than 857 of the bastards before being wrestled to the ground by shocked officials, dragged off the pitch and handed over to federal marshals.”

“She further insulted this great nation by altering the lyrics, deliberately keeping her eyes on the twilight when she should have been watching our glorious flag,” snarled the venerable professor’s puppet twin. “And the goddam traitor didn’t even have the humility to atone for her heinous crimes by flopping her hooters out. I’m tearing up her insurance policy right now, the bitch.”

In the muted silence that followed, the Green Bay Packers scored a hollow and meaningless victory over the Pittsburgh Steelers in a softies’ version of rugby where all the players look like extras from ‘Deliverance’ at a Michelin man-themed fancy dress party.

Sunday 6 February 2011

Propaganda Department Only For Olympics, Promise MPs

There's a good chap
The Foreign Affairs Committee has published a report urging the government to set up a special unit to rebuff and correct negative stories about Britain which could damage the country’s reputation during the build-up to the 2012 Olympic Games.

The unit – which would not be known as the Ministry of Propaganda, said the MPs, because of certain negative connotations – would be tasked with promoting Britain as diverse, inclusive, friendly, orderly, helpful, peace-loving, nutritious, big-hearted, crime-free, sustainable, well fit, paved with gold, elysian, huggable, lemon fresh, utopian, scrumptious, tropical, 100% organic, bouncing with health, always ready with a cup of tea and a cheery song; or, as the committee put it, “in a word - perfect.”

“During the Olympics there will be some 25,000 reporter johnnies in Britain, and most of them damnably foreign to boot,” said chairman Richard Ottaway, “What you have to bear in mind is that these games are going to be watched by four billion wogs, all of whom are going to see that the bloody place is falling to bits if we’re not careful.”

The committee proposes that any foreign news reports of rubbish-strewn shopping centres, run-down inner cities, panhandling drug addicts, Muslims, gang-related shootings, neo-nazi marches, howling drunk Scotsmen, Daily Mail headlines or riot police hammering the crap out of disabled protesters would be countered immediately with smiling ministerial pronouncements that the silly journalists had inadvertently wandered into a family-friendly theme park showcasing the bad old days under Labour. The straying reporters would then be assigned a helpful police minder to save them from accidentally departing from the script again.

Prime minister David Cameron said he would take the committee’s recommendations on board, stressing that the propaganda unit would, naturally, only be in existence for the duration of the Olympics.

“After that, you have my solemn word that you will hear no more of it,” he promised, with a wide grin.