Country Obsessed By Weather Still No Closer To Understanding How It Works

As water companies imposed hosepipe bans on the drought-struck south east, a furious Middle England took time out from demanding the immediate return of last weekend’s unseasonal sunshine to turn on all the taps in a spontaneous act of principled defiance against corporate bully boys, prudence and all reason.

This is what Britain should be like, but with a car wash and a jacuzzi

“How bastard dare these profiteering, jumped-up gauleiters from Thames Water tell me I can’t fill up my swimming pool on the off-chance that I might want to freeze my bollocks off in the middle of a downpour?” seethed Rob Blind, a jumped-up senior profiteer at Gauleiter Bank AG’s London office, as he truculently scoured his BMW Z4 convertible down to the bare metal in a maniacal frenzy of repetitive car-washing disorder. “It’s my sodding water, I’m bloody paying through the nose for it, so I’ll do whatever I damn well like with it.”

“If there’s such a desperate shortage, why don’t they just cut off Peckham?” he demanded. “They can put their precious standpipes outside the Jobcentres and the magistrates’ courts. That sort are used to queueing, aren’t they?”

“Damn and blast it, it’s spitting with rain again!” he roared obsessively. “Now I’ll have to wash all those spots off my car’s newly-exposed bodywork before the bloody thing collapses in a heap of rust. Why isn’t the sun shining? Call this summer? How am I supposed to fill a car with water with the bloody roof up?”

“Pass me that goddamned hose again!” he screamed.

Guardian Readers Strangely Muted On Travesty Of Justice Involving Tragic Rich Rioter

Laura Johnson, the millionaire’s daughter convicted today of taking part in last summer’s riots, is reported to be mystified by the ongoing lack of outraged protest on her behalf from Britain’s sympathetic left-wingers.

The rioter even Alan Rusbridger can't defend

“Laura’s future hopes have been cruelly consigned to the scrapheap by this uncaring government,” pointed out no-one at all. “Nobody with a wanky humanities degree from Exeter has a hope in hell of ever getting a job. Employers know it’s a worthless piece of paper which only proves that daddy couldn’t swing her a place at Oxford or Cambridge.”

“Instead of brutally throwing the full force of the law against this poor bewildered mentalist simply for taking her mates for a spin, we should all be asking ourselves how each and every one of us selfishly inflicted depression on her by not making her life perfect in every concievable way,” added nobody else.

Hand-wringing sociologists believe the automatic lefty exoneration which has been universally claimed for every other rioter may, in Laura’s case, have evaporated when the court revealed that she had, unpardonably, acquired a packet of evil fags with the undeniable intention of poisoning a groovy liberal child with her toxic second-hand smoke.

British Animal Lovers Now Welling Up For Panda That Doesn’t Exist

Millions of mawkish fauna addicts are flocking to Edinburgh Zoo tonight to hold a teary candle-lit vigil for a poor hypothetical panda cub, which has cruelly been denied its very existence through the tragic reluctance of its potential parents to give a shit.

This could have been a panda. But it isn't. And now it never will be

“I’m afraid there is now very little hope that this cute widdle baby panda will ever come into being,” sobbed a red-eyed Sir David Attenborough, after the zoo’s valiant attempts to draw male panda Gang Buang’s attention to his potential mate Tin Can’s erogenous zones met with tragic failure when it was discovered that pandas appear to lack any form of erogenous zones.

“We built a ‘love tunnel’ shaped like an enormous fuzzy Aunt Jemima from his enclosure to hers,” wept head keeper John Morris, “But all the dozy bugger does is sit there, obstinately reading intellectual journals, deconstructing the zeitgeist and dreaming up new theories about dark matter. Now she’s got a major strop on and she’s started writing a feminist blog for the Guardian.”

Devastated zoo managers expressed the hope that every heartbroken animal worshipper will buy a cuddly symbolic memento from its gift shop, take it home and lovingly bury it in a sunny corner of their garden to honour the memory of the panda baby which, tragically, never had a chance to live.

Meanwhile - unnoticed on the unimportant parts of the planet such as Mali, Somalia, Greece, Sudan, Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, Russia, Texas and California - members of a common species of ape continue to die violently, as nature intended.

James Murdoch Has ‘No Recollection’ Of Resigning

Confusion reigns at BSkyB tonight, with ex-chairman James Murdoch barricaded inside his office whilst resolutely denying ever having seen the resignation email he wrote this morning.

“Re: My role within the BsSkyB management structure,” observed Mr Murdoch through the keyhole. “A water-cooler meme of what must be seen as entirely subjective accuracy has lately crossed my awareness threshold, viz.: I have resigned.”

James Murdoch wonders where his desk has gone

“Whilst it is neither my desire - nor indeed my role - to belittle the inherent value of grape-based data distribution networks as a vehicle for dynamic mission-related interchange,” he droned, “I consider it vital - for reasons of ongoing corporate integrity - to categorically state, according to the degree of authority associated with my status within our organisational hierarchy, that I have absolutely no recollection of ever reading any such communication.”

“This memo, it should be noted, constitutes neither confirmation nor refutal of the undeniable evidence that I am clearly the originator of the document in question, namely my resignation,” he acknowledged. “The key issue at stake here is, naturally, that if I say I have not read the message then it must be understood that I can neither be a) held to account for it nor b) expected to act upon it.”

Mr Murdoch then instructed his former PA to explain to visitors that he was in a very important meeting, and went on with his normal routine of staring at a blank screen whilst trying to open a doughnut.

Miliband Publishes List Of Working-Class People He’s Had Dinner With

Mr Miliband will have whatever you're having

As pressure mounts on David Cameron to tell the whole truth for once, Miliband Two added fuel to the fire by releasing an exhaustive list of every ordinary member of the public with whom he has ever shared a table but not the bill.

“I am proud to say that my dinner parties clearly show that, unlike Mr Cameron, I keep my feet firmly on the ground by only dining with typical members of the general public,” droned the Labour leader. “Lord Sugar, for example, is as common as muck and taught me a lot of rude words. And my gosh, I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my pasty when cheeky chappie Sir George Iacobescu was telling me about all the attractive ladies he’d wolf-whistle as he was building Canary Wharf with his own two hands.”

Meanwhile, deputy PM Nick Clegg earnestly invited anyone at all to dine with him, adding that no donations were necessary but it would be nice if they could bring along a bottle of Lambrini.

Government To Employ Everyone To Read Everyone Else’s Emails

Unemployment will soon be a thing of the past, with the government today guaranteeing jobs for life for everyone in Britain as it announced plans to spy on everything you say, do and think.

Welcome to your new job

“Not everyone is a terrorist or paedophile, obviously,” acknowledged home secretary Theresa May. “But everyone might be, which is all the excuse we need to do what Labour had the bare-faced cheek to suggest when they were in power.”

Under the Home Office proposals, everyone will be required to spend at least five hours a day monitoring and transcribing your calls, emails, text messages, social networking ,browsing history, facial expressions and body language, then pass it round until somebody eventually decides to send the police round to arrest you.

The Queen is expected to formally announce the plans to turn her country into China when she opens the next session of Parliament next month, if she knows what’s good for her.

“I heard that,” snapped Mrs May.

Smokers Now Officially Worse Than Paedos

Evil smokers have replaced paedophiles as the nation’s most hated monsters in human form, says the Department of Health, as it launches a hard-hitting advertising campaign urging all right-thinking people to bludgeon to death anyone they spot lurking within a mile of an ickle pretty child and looks as if they could be about to whip out a cigarette.

“I urge you with all the PR at my disposal to report any neighbours you might suspect of smoking to the police immediately,” bellowed Professor Terence Stephenson, president of the Royal College of Ickle Pretty Children. “These repugnant creatures dream of fucking a child’s ickle pretty lungs up. If you want my informed medical opinion, I’d burn the sick bastards’ genitals off with their own lighters.”

Let's find out where she lives, and burn it down

On the BBC Breakfast this morning, a spokesman for shady smokophile apologists FOREST - who dared to suggest that the generation who grew up breathing factory-chimney levels of deadly household toxins seemed to have become the longest-lived people in history - was thrashed senseless with a fire extinguisher by enraged presenter Susanna Reid, prompting a flood of complaints to BBC switchboards that she had let him live.

“When a doctor pointed out what everybody knows, i.e. those lung-molesters at FOREST are in cahoots with the murdering profiteers who run the tobacco industry, that twisted pervert had the bloody nerve to wonder if the pharmaceutical companies were making anything out of their holy patches of good nicotine,” screamed a typical caller. “Right now I can see the bloke over the road loitering outside his front door, furtively ramming his disgusting smoke down my unsuspecting kids’ throats while they’re out playing innocently in my ex’s back garden on the other side of town, the dirty fucker!”

“Where did I put my carving knife?” she added thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, a spokesman for the government urged the public to forget about fuel and pasties and concentrate on the vitally important task of living in a permanent state of blind, terrified rage.

Gorgeous George Galloway Brings Down Establishment

George Galloway - the respected moral authority, dictator enthusiast, oil collector and pussy fancier - is to meet the queen later today, ask her if she fancies a quick one round the back of the throne and accept her invitation to form a government, following his sensational overthrow of the entire discredited Tory-Labour-Lib Dem axis of evil.

A creep not sucking up to a tyrant, in a meeting which never happened

Mr Galloway’s anti-imperialist idol, President Assad of Syria, was the first to send his congratulations on the Great Respecter’s routing of the Zionist forces of reaction, saying: “What a breath of fresh air. The free people of Syria believe that your reforming zeal and your vision of Britain as a genuinely independent European country is one that is widely appreciated across the Middle East. I am very impressed by your knowledge, by your sharpness, by your flexible mind, by your selective amnesia. I am very, very impressed. Britain is lucky to have you as her prime minister.”

Speaking through a ouija board from the innermost circle of Hell, where he is currently being skewered by red-hot pokers for the next thousand centuries, the blood-soaked soul of Saddam Hussein also offered warm congratulations to the Respect Party’s humanitarian founder: “Sir, I salute your courage, your strength, your indefatigability and I want you to know that we are with you, until victory, until Jerusalem is a Jew-free zone yes no hello goodbye.”

Mr Galloway’s first respectful act as PM-for-life will be to thank his heroes for their kind words of wisdom, deny ever meeting them and call anyone who suggests otherwise a drink-soaked former Trotskyite popinjay. He will then stop all of the bad things in the world forever, starting with the iniquitous and unjust pasty tax.

Fears That iPhone May Become New Must-Have Chav Accessory Sends Apple Share Price Plummeting

Your iPhone is about to explode, and this time it's not the battery

As struggling Blackberry makers RIM belatedly wise up to their woefully-mismatched user base of corporate suits and ASBO collectors and pull out of the chav market, Apple shares tumbled in value as gloomy investors trembled at the prospect of their favourite toys falling into the hands of ghastly common people.

“The Blackberry brand has become disastrously tainted by its association with scum, i.e. louts and their lawyers,” sneered financial advisor Rob Blind, as he urged his clients to dump their Apple shares and restock their portfolios with Android-based gadget suppliers instead. “The Android platform is widely promoted by many firms in the technology sector, which will confuse the hell out of the stunted chav hive-mind. They’re bound to go for Apple, the other big name they keep hearing about.”

“I’m happy to pay well over the odds every time Apple launch their latest attempt to get it right, then demonstrate my social and aesthetic superiority by constantly bragging that it’s made my life exquisite,” confirmed colleague Nick Stuff. “That doesn’t work quite so well though, does it, if all my friends get the idea that I pass my evenings staggering about town centres in a Primark hoody, off my tits on cider and ketamine, spraying cocks on subway walls.”

“I should have known Apple were making a horrible mistake launching that tawdry little iPod Nano all those years ago,” he moaned. “Is there an app for transferring all my funds into LG?”

It’s OK to Offend People, Mumbles String-Haired Seppo Airhead

Singer, actor, vajazzle installation pioneer

Ribena - a blaring mouth on legs who genuinely believes her ‘Straw Man goes to Belsen’ look is not only morally acceptable, but also in some way desirable – today informed millions of mystified BBC viewers that it is perfectly OK to offend people, but only if you have a silly name and make a comfortable living by prancing about in front of young children in your knickers.

“For a minute there, I thought this incoherent stick person was blurting out some sort of impassioned defence of free speech,” said a spokesman for freedom-of-expression campaign group The Manifesto Club. “But no, apparently not. When expert sound engineers edited out all the grunting noises, the few words that remained claim that thrusting her fadge in your kids’ faces whilst wearing a pair of fishnets and nothing else is at the cutting edge of Art, and anyone who's worried that their pre-teen daughter might do likewise is Stalin on steroids.”

“Oh, and it seems Ribena would very much like an Oscar for dressing up in a $200m game of snakes and ladders, or some such rubbish,” he added. “On the plus side, I gather she’ll be keeping her Aunt Jemima covered up for a full hour and a quarter. So that’s a first.”