As the Australian Tourist Board buys itself another chunk of bargain-basement publicity by offering another four lucky Britons 'employment' as 'island explorers', news editors joyfully abandoned all pretence of telling people what is actually happening in the world and turned their bulletins, newspapers and websites over to any corporate entities with a product to sell who can come up with a suitably daft non-job.
"Hats off to the diggers for dreaming up this fantastically cheap but effective marketing tool," said Sky News' political editor, Adam Boulton, as he added 'keen snorkeller' to the CV he was about to email. "Thanks to the growing flood of 'best job in the world' emails and faxes we're receiving, we can dispense with tiresome, expensive journalism completely."
Somerset's tourism has also been boosted recently by the acres of headlines generated by Wookey Hole's inspired '£50,000 witch' announcement. The successful witch, Caroline Bohanon, is already reported to spend her days crying out of sheer boredom and complaining about her hessian rags giving her eczema.
"Fifty thousand smackers may seem loik a gurt big sack of oats to the average wage-slave," said Somerset's Head of Tourism, Giles Farmer, "But believe you me, moi 'ansum, 'taint chicken feed compared to a three-week multimedia campaign on every digital TV service provider, an' all them papers an' freesheets - not forgettin' they new-fangled popups on yer browser, as no bugger reads anyway."
"Oo arr," he added.
In a Nev Filter exclusive, by blatantly refusing to comply with the 'Embargo Until' dates printed in bold at the top of the press releases we can offer a sneak preview of next week's biggest headlines.
MONDAY: Birmingham Council willing to award £50,000 to anyone capable of spending an entire week's staycation in city as a 'holidaymaker'
TUESDAY: Theme park offers brave punter £75,000 to go on every ride without being maimed
WEDNESDAY: London Tourist Board offers hundreds of joblesses £5,000 tax-free lump sum to be beheaded at Tower of London - hourly! Don't miss the gory fun, kids!
THURSDAY: Lord Mandelson dangles £1000-a-year dream job as peripatetic world travellers before disillusioned doley graduates (hang on, they've rolled this one out ahead of schedule - Nev)
FRIDAY: Queen tempts Prince Charles with £2m a year to live out rest of life as lowly prole
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
Four Out Of Five Parents Think Babies Fell Out of Mummy's Bottom
Most parents are unable to tell their children the difference between an arse and an elbow, according to a poll published today.
Other scientific questions that leave parents scratching their genitals include "Where do babies come from?", "What makes a rainbow?" and "Well, is there anything you do know?"
More than half of the parents said they felt their children knew more about science than they did, largely because the image-obsessed self-absorption of their spawn compels them daily to absorb scientific terms like 'targeted dermahydration' and 'digestobogus uprectum' from infomercials for cosmetics and slimming products.
"When I was a little girl, the science of narcissism was in its infancy," admitted Ug, a mother of three. "When they stopped saying 'She isn't, she is, she's wearing Harmony hairspray' and suddenly started banging on about something called Ceramide R, I thought they were talking about motorbikes or something."
"And as for AHA complexes, I thought that meant you fancied Morten Harket," she added, as she knapped a new flint for her husband's spear. "I used to have a poster of him on the wall of my cave. He had a nice elbow."
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of her eight-year-old daughter from school.
"How does Botox work?" demanded little Harriet-Jo, stamping on the bone-strewn stones at her feet. "I want it. Now. Book me an appointment, peasant."
Meanwhile, researchers are trying to determine whether there is any correlation between parents who display more scientific knowledge than a blowfly and those who are old enough to have taken O-levels.
"I'm afraid it might take a while to work this out from the data available," apologised a spokesman for the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills. "Does anybody understand formulas in Excel?"
Other scientific questions that leave parents scratching their genitals include "Where do babies come from?", "What makes a rainbow?" and "Well, is there anything you do know?"
More than half of the parents said they felt their children knew more about science than they did, largely because the image-obsessed self-absorption of their spawn compels them daily to absorb scientific terms like 'targeted dermahydration' and 'digestobogus uprectum' from infomercials for cosmetics and slimming products.
"When I was a little girl, the science of narcissism was in its infancy," admitted Ug, a mother of three. "When they stopped saying 'She isn't, she is, she's wearing Harmony hairspray' and suddenly started banging on about something called Ceramide R, I thought they were talking about motorbikes or something."
"And as for AHA complexes, I thought that meant you fancied Morten Harket," she added, as she knapped a new flint for her husband's spear. "I used to have a poster of him on the wall of my cave. He had a nice elbow."
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of her eight-year-old daughter from school.
"How does Botox work?" demanded little Harriet-Jo, stamping on the bone-strewn stones at her feet. "I want it. Now. Book me an appointment, peasant."
Meanwhile, researchers are trying to determine whether there is any correlation between parents who display more scientific knowledge than a blowfly and those who are old enough to have taken O-levels.
"I'm afraid it might take a while to work this out from the data available," apologised a spokesman for the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills. "Does anybody understand formulas in Excel?"
Pirates May Have Seized Labour Party
The Labour Party was apparently overrun by pirates as it sailed up Britain's garden path, it emerged today.
The desperate gang of robbers - described by officials as "a trio of middle-class professional types, dressed up as socialists, who have never done an honest day's work in their lives" - are believed to have swarmed aboard the party while it was all at sea, overpowered its inept crew while they were asleep on watch, and have been steering the stolen party on a course of their own ever since.
"These villainous criminals armed themselves with a new constitution, then ruthlessly stabbed the old crew in the backs," said a spokesman for the Maritime and Coastguard Agency. "At the time nobody noticed, because everything looked ship-shape. But they couldn't be bothered to look ahead or check the radar, and now they're heading for the rocks at full speed."
The pirate captain is no longer aboard the vessel, having grabbed the loot and jumped ship some time ago, abandoning his incompetent first mate to go down with the ship. The reputed brains of the outfit - a shadowy figure known only to Interpol as 'Mandy' - is believed to have taken to the ship's lifeboat, trusting to his wide experience of sailing around in Russian yachts.
"This seems to herald a disturbing new trend in politics," said an old salt. "It seems that the Conservative Party has now been hijacked by a disreputable bunch of rum-runners known only as the Bullingdon Club. And the Liberal Democrats seem to have sunk without trace."
The desperate gang of robbers - described by officials as "a trio of middle-class professional types, dressed up as socialists, who have never done an honest day's work in their lives" - are believed to have swarmed aboard the party while it was all at sea, overpowered its inept crew while they were asleep on watch, and have been steering the stolen party on a course of their own ever since.
"These villainous criminals armed themselves with a new constitution, then ruthlessly stabbed the old crew in the backs," said a spokesman for the Maritime and Coastguard Agency. "At the time nobody noticed, because everything looked ship-shape. But they couldn't be bothered to look ahead or check the radar, and now they're heading for the rocks at full speed."
The pirate captain is no longer aboard the vessel, having grabbed the loot and jumped ship some time ago, abandoning his incompetent first mate to go down with the ship. The reputed brains of the outfit - a shadowy figure known only to Interpol as 'Mandy' - is believed to have taken to the ship's lifeboat, trusting to his wide experience of sailing around in Russian yachts.
"This seems to herald a disturbing new trend in politics," said an old salt. "It seems that the Conservative Party has now been hijacked by a disreputable bunch of rum-runners known only as the Bullingdon Club. And the Liberal Democrats seem to have sunk without trace."
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Baying Mobs Purge Nation of Tracey Connellys, Steven Barkers, Peter Owens
Enraged hordes of tabloid readers have delivered swift vigilante justice to everyone in Britain who happens to share the names of Baby P's killers, which were made public today after a court anonymity order expired.
"AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH BAAAASTAAAARDS," explained one crowbar-wielding member of the public, standing exultantly over the unrecognisable pulp which was all that remained of harmless TV repairman Steven Barker from Rotherham.
It now seems likely that the only Tracey Connelly and Steven Barker left alive in the UK are the child-murderers themselves, who are safely locked inside maximum-security gaols. Peter Owens, the brother of Barker, is almost certainly dead - along with thousands of his innocent namesakes - as he had been released back into the community on probation.
"I fucken can't stand fucken child abusers, they make me fucken skin crawl," said a blood-soaked mother of six in Southend, still shaking with righteous rage, as her children sat on the floor obsessively playing Halo 3 on their Xbox for the 338th consecutive day. "Willya fucken shut up, ya little fuckers? I'm fucken tryen to tell this fucker how much I fucken hate child abusers. Fuck's sake, I fucken wish I'd fucken took it up the arse when I met yer dads."
"AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH BAAAASTAAAARDS," explained one crowbar-wielding member of the public, standing exultantly over the unrecognisable pulp which was all that remained of harmless TV repairman Steven Barker from Rotherham.
It now seems likely that the only Tracey Connelly and Steven Barker left alive in the UK are the child-murderers themselves, who are safely locked inside maximum-security gaols. Peter Owens, the brother of Barker, is almost certainly dead - along with thousands of his innocent namesakes - as he had been released back into the community on probation.
"I fucken can't stand fucken child abusers, they make me fucken skin crawl," said a blood-soaked mother of six in Southend, still shaking with righteous rage, as her children sat on the floor obsessively playing Halo 3 on their Xbox for the 338th consecutive day. "Willya fucken shut up, ya little fuckers? I'm fucken tryen to tell this fucker how much I fucken hate child abusers. Fuck's sake, I fucken wish I'd fucken took it up the arse when I met yer dads."
Oral Cancer is Caused By Anything You Enjoy, Warn Miserable Sods
A significant rise in incidences of oral cancers is caused by all that lager you drink, say miserable, po-faced researchers from Cancer Research UK. The number of cases has risen by 28% in men in their forties and 24% in women since the 1990s.
"Normally, we'd blame our favourite suspect, smoking," said a hatchet-faced killjoy in a white laboratory wimple. "But that takes 30 years or more to eat away your mouth, gums, tongue, lips and teeth. So unless everyone has been smoking since they were ten, the next most likely culprit must be the booze."
Other possible carcinogens cited by the team were driving a 4x4, having a fat ass, watching Strictly Come Dancing or having the volume up a bit loud on your MP3 player.
"Didn't I just read in the paper that we receive more bequests than any other charity?" asked Cancer Research UK's health information manager, Hazel Nunn. "Bags we ring-fence a few million before the marketing consultants nab it all, and find out how many people with cancer of the ankle started smoking at ten."
Drinking a pint or two for a couple of nights a week is now thought to be the main cause of death from AIDS, autism, decapitation, dutch elm disease, ebola virus, evangelism, explosive decompression, fin rot, flatus, friendly fire, ginger hair, herpes simplex, the hippy hippy shake, mad lobster disease, MRSA, nappy rash, nitrogen narcosis, nits, nut allergies, pygmy infestation, rusting, shark attack, skateboard ingestion, snakes on a plane, tender nipple syndrome, trout pout, U2, vaginal thrush, voodoo, wanking and wasp flu.
"And if you smoke, all of them at once," warned head researcher Sister Ignatius.
"Normally, we'd blame our favourite suspect, smoking," said a hatchet-faced killjoy in a white laboratory wimple. "But that takes 30 years or more to eat away your mouth, gums, tongue, lips and teeth. So unless everyone has been smoking since they were ten, the next most likely culprit must be the booze."
Other possible carcinogens cited by the team were driving a 4x4, having a fat ass, watching Strictly Come Dancing or having the volume up a bit loud on your MP3 player.
"Didn't I just read in the paper that we receive more bequests than any other charity?" asked Cancer Research UK's health information manager, Hazel Nunn. "Bags we ring-fence a few million before the marketing consultants nab it all, and find out how many people with cancer of the ankle started smoking at ten."
Drinking a pint or two for a couple of nights a week is now thought to be the main cause of death from AIDS, autism, decapitation, dutch elm disease, ebola virus, evangelism, explosive decompression, fin rot, flatus, friendly fire, ginger hair, herpes simplex, the hippy hippy shake, mad lobster disease, MRSA, nappy rash, nitrogen narcosis, nits, nut allergies, pygmy infestation, rusting, shark attack, skateboard ingestion, snakes on a plane, tender nipple syndrome, trout pout, U2, vaginal thrush, voodoo, wanking and wasp flu.
"And if you smoke, all of them at once," warned head researcher Sister Ignatius.
Monday, 10 August 2009
Committing Credit Card Fraud and Getting Away With It: Priceless
One in three Metropolitan Police officers and staff issued with a corporate credit card has misused it for their own personal purchases, which is just fine by their standards watchdog.
After investigating 1,183 cases of card misuse, the Metropolitan Police Authority is taking legal action against two officers who spent £82,000 and £1,100, and offering "training and guidance" to the rest. No disciplinary action is to be taken.
"Of course, in any other organisation such flagrant theft would result in instant dismissal, prosecution or a written warning at the very least," said Met Commissioner Sir Paul Jong-Stephenson. "But what you have to remember is that my officers can blow your head off in broad daylight for no reason and get off scot-free. So what's a little credit card theft between mates?"
After investigating 1,183 cases of card misuse, the Metropolitan Police Authority is taking legal action against two officers who spent £82,000 and £1,100, and offering "training and guidance" to the rest. No disciplinary action is to be taken.
"Of course, in any other organisation such flagrant theft would result in instant dismissal, prosecution or a written warning at the very least," said Met Commissioner Sir Paul Jong-Stephenson. "But what you have to remember is that my officers can blow your head off in broad daylight for no reason and get off scot-free. So what's a little credit card theft between mates?"
Members of Public Can Run Britain For An Hour, Says Mandelson
Peter Mandelson, the well-known artist, has announced that the leadership of Great Britain is open to anyone in one-hour stints, after denying that he was in charge of the country while Gordon Brown is on holiday.
"Good Lord, do you think I want to be associated with the current catalogue of woes that's hitting the papers on a daily basis?" laughed Mr Mandelson, as he steered a JCB into Central London, looking for volunteers. "No, I'm putting the people into Number Ten, one at a time, through an upstairs window. Anyone who wants to be prime minister for an hour can apply by standing in front of this forklift and jumping aboard. Let's face it, they couldn't do any worse than that hatchet-faced Scots prick, who of course has my full support until the day after the Tories win the election."
Soon after, a cheerful Mr Mandelson was spotted trundling back towards Downing Street, carrying an unkempt, wild-eyed prophet of doom whose sandwich-board straps had become entangled in the forklift.
"The end of the world is nigh," screamed the trapped loony, on his way to a brief appointment with fame, celebrity and the levers of government. "Prepare ye for the second coming!"
Mr Mandelson was seen to smile enigmatically to himself, before driving off.
"Good Lord, do you think I want to be associated with the current catalogue of woes that's hitting the papers on a daily basis?" laughed Mr Mandelson, as he steered a JCB into Central London, looking for volunteers. "No, I'm putting the people into Number Ten, one at a time, through an upstairs window. Anyone who wants to be prime minister for an hour can apply by standing in front of this forklift and jumping aboard. Let's face it, they couldn't do any worse than that hatchet-faced Scots prick, who of course has my full support until the day after the Tories win the election."
Soon after, a cheerful Mr Mandelson was spotted trundling back towards Downing Street, carrying an unkempt, wild-eyed prophet of doom whose sandwich-board straps had become entangled in the forklift.
"The end of the world is nigh," screamed the trapped loony, on his way to a brief appointment with fame, celebrity and the levers of government. "Prepare ye for the second coming!"
Mr Mandelson was seen to smile enigmatically to himself, before driving off.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
We May Be Mad, Say Doctors, But We're Not Mad Enough To Expect The NHS To Do Anything About It
Four out of five doctors would not seek professional help if they had mental health problems, according to a survey published in the journal Clinical Medicine. Instead, they say, they would rather turn to their friends, family, wine merchant and bank balance for comfort and support.
"Every single day I'm not on the golf course, I have to sit here pretending to be interested, while a never-ending torrent of human detritus presents its predictably unimportant sniffles, hot flushes, piles, constipation, screaming shits or rampaging crabs," said one Birmingham doctor. "If it's not that, then either they don't want to be pregnant or they do want to be pregnant. I wish they'd make up their bloody minds. It's enough to drive a saint potty."
Doctors said the main thing preventing them from accessing the mental health services offered by the NHS was that they knew about the mental health services offered by the NHS. Some, however, also cited the potential impact on their huge salaries, should they be formally diagnosed as disassociative sociopaths with persistent delusions of infallibility, as a potential discouragement.
"There is a wide variety of treatments available for mental health issues," explained a specialist consultant. "But the best one, if you ask me, is prevention rather than the cure - i.e. getting paid twice the salary for doing less work."
"Of course, this particular form of occupational therapy has only been made available to doctors," he added. "If you are not a doctor, go away and make an appointment with a Community Psychiatric Nurse for six weeks of patronising chit-chat."
"Every single day I'm not on the golf course, I have to sit here pretending to be interested, while a never-ending torrent of human detritus presents its predictably unimportant sniffles, hot flushes, piles, constipation, screaming shits or rampaging crabs," said one Birmingham doctor. "If it's not that, then either they don't want to be pregnant or they do want to be pregnant. I wish they'd make up their bloody minds. It's enough to drive a saint potty."
Doctors said the main thing preventing them from accessing the mental health services offered by the NHS was that they knew about the mental health services offered by the NHS. Some, however, also cited the potential impact on their huge salaries, should they be formally diagnosed as disassociative sociopaths with persistent delusions of infallibility, as a potential discouragement.
"There is a wide variety of treatments available for mental health issues," explained a specialist consultant. "But the best one, if you ask me, is prevention rather than the cure - i.e. getting paid twice the salary for doing less work."
"Of course, this particular form of occupational therapy has only been made available to doctors," he added. "If you are not a doctor, go away and make an appointment with a Community Psychiatric Nurse for six weeks of patronising chit-chat."
Tory Health Spokesman Asks: If You Can't Trust Microsoft With Your Medical Records, Who Can You Trust?
A Conservative government would post your medical records on the internet and bombard your inbox with offers for fake Viagra, according to shadow health secretary Angela Lansbury.
"How could anyone have anything to fear from your confidential personal health data being hosted by Microsoft or Google?" he asked, as interviewer Andrew Marr accompanied him with his iconic trademark guitar chords this morning. "They will be totally secure. Using your surname as your user ID and your mother's maiden name as your password, what can possibly go wrong?"
Online sales of Love Hearts masquerading as erection pills could bring billions of pounds into the coffers of the NHS, he added.
Mr Lansbury was also quick to pour scorn on rumours that the Tory front bench was planning to increase the rate of VAT to 20% when they are elected.
"This old wives' tale has been doing the rounds in the media," he laughed. "Let me state quite categorically for the record: it's not 20%."
"How could anyone have anything to fear from your confidential personal health data being hosted by Microsoft or Google?" he asked, as interviewer Andrew Marr accompanied him with his iconic trademark guitar chords this morning. "They will be totally secure. Using your surname as your user ID and your mother's maiden name as your password, what can possibly go wrong?"
Online sales of Love Hearts masquerading as erection pills could bring billions of pounds into the coffers of the NHS, he added.
Mr Lansbury was also quick to pour scorn on rumours that the Tory front bench was planning to increase the rate of VAT to 20% when they are elected.
"This old wives' tale has been doing the rounds in the media," he laughed. "Let me state quite categorically for the record: it's not 20%."
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Unrepentant Biggs Unleashes Second Rail Crime Spree
Railways in Britain are in chaos today, as freed train robber Ronnie Biggs celebrates his 80th birthday - and release from prison on compassionate grounds - by holding up trains all over Network South East.
Aided by a freshly-recruited cohort of evil doctors and nurses, Biggs has been parking his hospital bed on tracks in isolated areas, forcing oncoming trains to screech to an emergency halt. The stroke-crippled criminal then issues orders to his henchmen by slowly pointing to letters on a board, whereupon they swarm all over the halted train, beat the coachwork out of shape with iron bars and make their getaway in an unmarked ambulance.
"It's not even as if they're stealing anything this time," said a shocked British Transport Police inspector. "Biggs just seems to be holding up trains for the sheer fun of it. We knew he was a very sick man, but not this sick."
Horrified pensioner Tony Hastings, who spent eight years campaigning for a pardon for the Great Train Robber, has vowed to track down the evil villain and hand him over to the forces of law and order. He was the first to raise the alarm, when he turned up at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital with a bunch of grapes, only to be presented with an empty room on an unstaffed ward and an illegible note written by one of Bigg's doctor minions, which trained pharmacists are still struggling to decipher.
"I've been such a fool," said the red-faced do-gooder. "Biggs had me fooled completely. I thought he was a sick old man who just wanted to die at home with dignity. But the unpalatable truth is that he's a sick old man who intends to hold up a train for every single day of his captivity."
Aided by a freshly-recruited cohort of evil doctors and nurses, Biggs has been parking his hospital bed on tracks in isolated areas, forcing oncoming trains to screech to an emergency halt. The stroke-crippled criminal then issues orders to his henchmen by slowly pointing to letters on a board, whereupon they swarm all over the halted train, beat the coachwork out of shape with iron bars and make their getaway in an unmarked ambulance.
"It's not even as if they're stealing anything this time," said a shocked British Transport Police inspector. "Biggs just seems to be holding up trains for the sheer fun of it. We knew he was a very sick man, but not this sick."
Horrified pensioner Tony Hastings, who spent eight years campaigning for a pardon for the Great Train Robber, has vowed to track down the evil villain and hand him over to the forces of law and order. He was the first to raise the alarm, when he turned up at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital with a bunch of grapes, only to be presented with an empty room on an unstaffed ward and an illegible note written by one of Bigg's doctor minions, which trained pharmacists are still struggling to decipher.
"I've been such a fool," said the red-faced do-gooder. "Biggs had me fooled completely. I thought he was a sick old man who just wanted to die at home with dignity. But the unpalatable truth is that he's a sick old man who intends to hold up a train for every single day of his captivity."
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