Saturday, 4 February 2012

Sub To Sail Up River Plate In Phallic Warpaint

Ramping up his ongoing campaign to goad Argentina into a war which will win him the next election, David Cameron has ordered nuclear submarine HMS Trafalgar - which has been expertly camouflaged as a giant cock – to sail up the Rio de la Plata and flaunt itself mockingly before the enraged population of Buenos Aires.

Yep, that ought to do the trick
“If we surface in the downtown harbour area just behind the nature reserve, we can disport our proud British manhood up and down the waterfront - from Avenue Belgrano to the Autopista 25 de Mayo,” explained the obscene hunter-killer’s commanding officer. “For the benefit of younger voters, the Royal Navy torpedoed their flagship, the General Belgrano, in 1982 and we’d have got the aircraft carrier 25 de Mayo too if it hadn’t turned tail and fled, leaving a brown trail all the way back to Argentina.”

“If this doesn’t fill every hot-blooded male in Argentina with the burning desire to invade the Malvinas personally,” he added, “I’ll eat my captain’s hat.”

Meanwhile, in Plymouth yesterday, Mr Cameron was talking up the war he seeks to trigger, praising the Royal Marines he hopes will die heroically to secure a resounding Conservative victory - and promising plenty of work for Devonport Dockyard, patching up the photogenic, vote-winning holes blasted in our warships which manage to limp back from the impending South Atlantic confrontation.

Government To Terrorise Cities With Mary Portas

Local government minister Gimp Shitts today unveiled a threat to pull the names of twelve unfortunate cities out of a hat, and inflict Mary Portas on them.

Attack of the 50ft harridan
“The problem facing Britain’s high streets is that there are simply not enough shops selling posh frocks and painful shoes to young women,” crowed Mr Shitts, as he gleefully scribbled the names of every provincial shithole in Britain on a sheet of A4 and tore it into strips with a ruler.

“The key to regenerating these ghastly northern toilets is a thorough bullying from an acid-tongued battleaxe,” he enthused. “In the old days this role was performed admirably by Mrs Thatcher, but she’ll be raving about the inaccuracies in Meryl Streep’s hairdo for the rest of her twilight years. Fortunately, in Britain’s hour of need, another bitter old hag who knows more about everything than anyone else has emerged to save us from ruin.”

“The only way the chosen victims will be ever able to rid themselves of the baleful presence of Mary Portas,” he warned, “Is to give in immediately to her demands. No matter how malicious, petty, short-sighted, counter-productive or self-defeating they may appear to – or, indeed - be.”

Friday, 3 February 2012

Liberal Democrat Keeps Promise

Following his arrest on charges of perverting the course of justice over his wife’s claim that he dodged a speeding ticket, ex-energy secretary Chris Huhne is today facing widespread calls to challenge Nick Clegg for the leadership of the Liberal Democrats after becoming the first MP of the coalition government’s minority party to actually fulfil a promise he gave to the British public – i.e. to resign his cabinet post if he was charged with a criminal offence.

The most truthful liar in Parliament
“Obviously, Chris Huhne is a suspected liar, cheat and self-serving rat,” explained the Nev Filter’s veteran Westminster correspondent, Nev. “On the other hand, the entire country knows through bitter personal experience that all the other Lib Dems are compulsive and habitual liars, cheats and self-serving rats – which, for the time being at least, makes him the most honest minion of the whole rotten syndicate.”

Record Label In Search For Lowest Publicity Stunt

Classical music label Decca has launched a global search for the deepest human voice ever heard, after composer and idiot Paul Mealor squeezed out a piece which is physically impossible to sing.

“Mr Mealor was famous for five minutes when a tribe of squaddies’ cockwarmers wailed their way to the top of the Christmas charts with his profound meditation on separation and loss, ‘Whoever You Are’ , so obviously we need to cash in fast before his name drops out of the back of your head forever,” said a Decca spokesman. “Unfortunately, the only thing this fucktard’s managed to bang out since Christmas demands the services of a vocalist with a throat the size of a hatchback. And, unless we can teach a whale to sing in Latin, there’s nothing in the natural world which can hit three octaves below middle E.”

This does not exist, and neither do computers
“Fortunately for us, voice-transforming gadgets have been available cheaply since 1996 so, from a technical point of view, it’s not really a problem,” he added. “And they work in real-time, too, so that covers the quick cash-in tour - which is how we usually try to recoup the cost of recording a CD nobody is ever going to buy. But then we came up with this brilliant idea for a publicity stunt. Here goes.”

“Ahem. Dis shout going out to anybody what gots a throat the size of a fanny magnet,” he warned the public. “Bluds! Bluds! All you gots to do is convince yourself your bath-time grunts is like waaay better than the perfectly-modulated tonality of a trained world-class professional, then tell all your chav mates with wicked sound systems in their wheelz that you is be shouting out to all your homeys on the long-playing Decca release of da hipster Paul Mealor’s subwoofa-pumpin’ ‘De Profundis’ innit.”

“Standard,” he added shiftily.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Smokers And Drinkers Tell Eaters: ‘We Warned You This Would Happen’

Only these are safe to eat, until we tell you they aren't
Pinch-faced, goose-stepping health obsessives have finally got round to focusing their anger on the disgusting, weak-willed eaters of food, it emerged today – exactly as smokers and drinkers said was bound to happen, sooner or later.

“The instantly-addictive biohazard, sugar, is destined to kill every living thing on the planet unless we stigmatize the slack-jawed morons who selfishly consume it,” seethed professors Robert Himmler, Laura Goebbels and Claire Hitler of the University of California’s Department of Health Fascism. “Criminalize the scum who recklessly inflict secondary sugar on innocent bystanders as they indulge their filthy habit in public. Kill off the cynical cartoon character, Mr Cube, in favour of full-pack color photos of autopsies. Make it a capital offense to sell candy to kids. Tax it till it farts.”

Heroic members of the smoking and drinking resistance, meanwhile, solemnly went on to explain that the first concentration camps for forcibly converting everyone who still enjoys anything into biofuel are now scheduled to come online in 2020 - five years earlier than planned.

‘Now What Am I Supposed To Have Done?’ Demands Cock-Waving Eamonn Holmes

Waddling TV disaster area Eamonn Holmes is demanding guidance on what the fuck he actually can do live on television nowadays, after causing red faces at ITV by whipping ‘little Eamonn’ out, waving the wizened appendage at a self-confessed sex addict on This Morning this morning and inviting her to satisfy her craving forever by impaling herself on it.

A sweating press officer later stammered: “Eamonn's question was in the context of a wider balanced and frank interview – no, really - and he insists he has had no complaints.”

Beirut, where all the lesbians come from
The on-air faux pas is the latest in a series of Holmesian gaffes. His previous ground-breaking daytime TV firsts include: telling a rape victim she ought to be bloody grateful to be getting it at all with a face like hers; kicking actor Jonathan Wilkes around the studio for being “a spacky mong fuckwit”; and – through what he claimed later to be “an honest misunderstanding” - urging half-Lebanese guest Salma Hayek to rub baby oil into her mouth-watering breasts and insert a selection of vegetables up co-host Ruth Langsford, whilst he pleasured himself furiously on the sofa.

Holmes later justified his performance on Twitter, saying: “We all make mistakes. But I’m paid to.”

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Mr Goodwin Told

Mr Fred Goodwin, the scheming tyrant who singlehandedly destroyed civilisation, has been reduced to a hollow shell sitting in a luxury mansion contemplating the futility of his continued life of meaningless wealth after being stripped of his knighthood by the Queen.

Titles should be deserved, or they become meaningless
“Honorific titles should be earned by the strenuous efforts of people whose exceptional feats benefit all of mankind, not some pompous, arrogant twerp whose only talent is for wasting prodigious amounts of other people’s money,” admonished Her Majesty, who earned her title by the exceptional feat of being born. “And my son, the Duke of York, and his estranged wife, the Duchess, both feel rather strongly about this, too.”

Meanwhile, calls are mounting for Sir Rupert Sterling, a senior director at Megabank, to be stripped of his knighthood on the grounds that he is an occasional character in a cartoon strip.

“What sort of topsy-turvy world do we live in when a drawing in a bloody newspaper gets showered with honours, while the jumped-up little nobody who sells me the Telegraph every morning doesn’t even have to common decency to address me as ‘sir’?” seethed plain Mr Rob Blind, whose selfless efforts to sell futures are the only thing keeping Western Europe from mass starvation. “Because I’m certainly not his bloody ‘mate’, I can tell you.”

Civil Servants Expecting Long Wait For Public Outcry Over Private Sector Enjoying Awaydays At Customers’ Expense

Civil servants, who are solely responsible for all of the bad things in the world, are settling down for a long wait until it dawns on the British public that they are also paying for the jollies enjoyed by private-sector staff.

The water vole is an expert Prioritiser, it seems
“Last year, I freely admit I was hauled off to a foetid swamp beside the A303 where some wanker called Jeremy bored me shitless with a crock of complete and utter balls - of which my only recollection is that the nonsense word ‘holistic’ was shoehorned relentlessly into every goddamned sentence,” confessed a normally mild-mannered man whose job is to simplify reports until even energy secretary Chris Huhne can understand them. “I think it was a disgraceful fucking waste of taxpayers’ money too, as it happens, but at least you didn’t have to sit through seven life-sapping hours of bollocks.”

“This proves, if further proof were needed, that the civil service should be shut down immediately and the machinery of government placed in the responsible, efficient hands of the private sector,” smiled Mark Spreadsheet, a dedicated, hard-working cost benefit analyst from Serco on a vital fact-finding mission to Longleat, where he is finding out that the yawn of the majestic lion will help him immeasurably when he decides which hospital ward should be abandoned to deadly microbes to cover the cost of discovering such key insights.

Tuesday, 31 January 2012

Passengers Baffled By Concept Of ‘Worst Train Operator’

Thank you for travelling with First Great Western, suckers
A survey has confused long-suffering rail users by suggesting that one useless, thieving train operating company could somehow be even worse than the other useless, thieving train operating companies, it emerged today.

“As far as I’m aware, the only possible difference concerns the various garish colour schemes they inflict on their trains,” moaned a rail victim at Paddington, who was in a state of shock after being mugged for £264 for a cattle-class return ticket to Penzance on First Great Western’s ‘heritage’ line. “But all of them give me the same blinding headache.”

Meanwhile, at Euston, one of Richard Branson’s hapless prey was being kicked screaming onto the 0803 by fiendish minions after waving his tearful goodbyes to a hard-earned £158 for the dubious privilege of being dumped in a reeking Birmingham cave after considerably more than 84 minutes of nausea, punctuated by a persistent idiot with a trolley but no understanding of the basic principles of coffee.

Expendable Foreign Office Twerp To Win Second Term For Cameron By Goading Argentina Into Invading Falklands

The Foreign Office minister with special responsibility for Latin America and paperclips, Jeremy Nobody MP, is being sent to the Falkland Islands for a week on a mission to irritate the holy living crap out of Argentina.

May they remain British forever
“I'm going to coincide with the conclusion of the Falklands war, which should piss the spicks off a treat,” yawped the hole under Mr Nobody’s nose. “I will be going in June for the 30th anniversary, digging up a dead Argie conscript and waving his mouldy bones about in front of the world’s TV cameras. If that doesn’t kick things off, I will be flown out in Price William’s helicopter to relieve my gonads over the spot where the General Belgrano went down. If that doesn’t get Johnny Foreigner baying for a vote-winning rematch, well, I’m a greasy dago.”

Foreign Office sources say that, once Prince William and Mr Nobody have been successfully martyred, David Cameron will ride to a guaranteed second-term election landslide on a wave of bloodthirsty public calls for vengeance - by pulling Britain’s armed forces out of Afghanistan and shoving them out of the back of a Hercules, onto the heads of the new generation of Argentine cannon-fodder sent out to retake the Malvinas, heroically liberating the islands’ valuable reserves of penguins, sheep and superstitious villagers from the intolerable oppression of being forced at gunpoint to wear ponchos and take mandatory naps in the middle of the afternoon, or something.

“The PM got the idea from watching ‘The Iron Lady’,” admitted Foreign Secretary William Hague. “I’d have gone myself, but the nation simply can’t afford to lose my inspired handling of whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing.”

Monday, 30 January 2012

Next Dr Who Could Be Unborn Foetus, Hints Matt Smith, 5

At least we might see some character development
Dr Who fans are as uncritically enthusiastic as ever about the suggestion by five-year-old actor Matt Smith – who has played the legendary Time Lord ever since he could speak – that the next incarnation of the Doctor may be portrayed by a foetus.

“It would save the BBC loads and loads and loads of money, because the baby Doctor would be all inside his mummy’s tummy and, and she could be his new assistant, and then they’d only have to pay her and the Doctor wouldn’t cost them anything, and then they could buy a new monster,” explained the child star, on the eve of filming the latest gripping season of adventures in which the fresh-faced time traveller will meet his most formidable adversary yet – bossy Mrs Tomkins, the classroom assistant – on his first day at school.

“I can’t give too much away, or scary uncle Steven who makes up all the words says I can’t have any fizzy drinks for a month,” cautioned little Matt conspiratorially, as he ate up his greens in preparation for the rigours of his hectic filming schedule. “But ‘Casualty’ is made next door now, and I saw him asking lots of questions about the thing they put on mummy’s bump if you’re going to get a new brother or sister and it shows you funny pictures. So that’s what I think is going to happen.”

“I want a poo,” he added.

Research Proves Baby-Faced Politicians Can Crap All Over Us

Politicians can evacuate their bowels on the public as often as they like and still be loved unconditionally, according to the latest research from Jerusalem, as long as they look a bit like a big baby.

“Aww, wook at his widdle chubby cheeks,” cooed Professor Ifat Maoz of the city’s Hebrew University, as he held up a picture of a baby with a Hitler moustache added in Photoshop. “Bless.”

Reacting swiftly to capitalise on uncritical public opinion, David Cameron is to shave off all his hair and appear at the dispatch box clad only in a nappy, citing hugely-popular former Tory leaders William Hague and Iain Duncan Smith as role models.

Meanwhile, in a snap poll conducted by the Nev Filter, the indications are that turnout could double at the next general election if voters are given a straight choice between Ian Hislop and Graham Norton.