Showing posts with label satire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label satire. Show all posts

Sunday, 31 August 2014

Running With Scissors - The Right to Bear Stationery

A primary school teacher has died after being accidentally stabbed with a bayonet during a papier maché activity that went horribly wrong. Felicity Appleton was teaching an art class in which the children, aged 5 to 6, were creating a giant paper sculpture, using knives, axes, and other dangerous blades to cut the required materials.

The teacher's decision to use these implements is supported by the school who say that it is their policy to use blades wherever possible in order to prepare the children for their responsibility, as citizens of the United Kingdom, to bear stationery.

Little Scratchington Prep School has been heavily criticised for this in the national press with many of the parent-run academies labelling it "morally bankrupt". However, opinion across the country is so divided that no politician will broach the subject for fear of jeopardising the results of the upcoming General Election.

Meanwhile, the school has received support from many powerful organisations which refer to the Right to Bear Stationery as a duty and a privilege of British Citizenship.

The Right to Bear Stationery began as The Right to Bear Pens, which was accepted  as English Common Law in 1689 following a misunderstanding that caused ministers to believe the adage "the pen is mightier than the sword" was to be taken literally. It was thought that, in giving every man the right to carry a pen, each citizen would be able to defend the crown should they ever be in a situation to demonstrate the efficacy of the pen vs sword theory. It was apparently not an issue that most of the country's population at that time was illiterate. Being literate and "handy with a pen" were entirely different things.

The law was extended in the 1850s to include all other forms of stationery when the enterprising Victorians realised 3 very important things.

1) If you made it law that everyone had to carry a pen, you could make a lot of money selling pens;
2) what do you make the people who can't afford pens carry? And...
3) Pens vs swords would be a lot more likely to work if the pens were a bit...pointier...

These considerations meant that the law was amended to The Right to Bear Stationery which has been a common feature of our legislation ever since.

With these changes, our social history was also affected...

The set-square was invented and became an overnight success. Originally intended as a cheap and effective way to get a little bit stabby with your stationery, university professors had to create a whole new subject in order to find a more everyday use for them.  Professor Trigon of Oxford and his team contrived "trigonometry" which was subsequently included in the National Curriculum as an elaborate cover story for the superfluity of set-squares to be found in Britain. We didn't want the French to get suspicious! Oxford professors are of course renowned for their ability to create unnecessary subjects for study as no doubt you will know from Professor Alan Gebrah's contributions.


The literacy level also saw a significant increase as children experimented with their parents pens and began, to their surprise, to write and draw rather than stab each other. Although, to be fair, there was a bit of stabbing that went on too.

Navigators, hitherto considered to be harmless nerds, were suddenly revered for their skill with the most dangerous stationery of the time, the compass. Soon, set-squares, pens and compasses were issued to every school child in handy sets which are still sold today.

The final benefit that the Victorians experienced when the Right to Bear Stationery was made law, was that the level of unemployment went right down. This is because Woolworth's were so successful in selling Stationery Sets that they opened a branch in every town, employing 20 - 80 staff.

The two World Wars* meant that The Right to Bear Stationery took a back seat and eventually faded into a quaint tradition. The kind of tradition that meant that all old ladies carried pens in their handbags, and all children were bought Stationery Sets, without anyone really remembering why.

*(not the Two-Word Wars, those were entirely different in nature and saw Germans and Brits shout two-word insults at each other from either side of battle lines e.g "Arse Bandit", " Stinkenden Hund". The German's actually won the Two-Word Wars which is why we aren't taught much about it.  It was considered that they had an unfair advantage because theirs is an agglutinative language which allows them to get away with pretending that two words are in fact one, very long, very difficult to pronounce, single word. ) 

The 1950s saw a brief revival of the law when it was considered the duty of every upstanding citizen to have the ability to write a letter of complaint or sign a petition at a moment's notice. This sudden requirement saw the BBC have to move "Points of View" to a primetime slot.

Nowadays, the Right to Bear Stationery is a little known common law which has been gathering dust, unamended and unchecked until this week's shocking events. Who knew that there were villages where this tradition was still a fiercely guarded right? As mentioned, the Little Scratchington Prep School did not stop at set-squaress and compasses but instead allowed their pupils to use cleavers, axes and bayonets.

Their defence is that all such implements can be considered to be stationery when used in the context of arts and crafts. They say that they use a progressive system to teach the children respect and discipline. The pupils reportedly behave a lot better when they are faced with the possibility of losing a limb. However, as with all tools, accidents can sometimes happen. Little Scratchington Prep School refuses to accept liability for what it calls "a cruel twist of fate" and claim that they are being responsible by teaching their charges to be safe and respect sharp tools. In the words of the headmaster, Mr Chopper:

Children are more likely to have an accident if you give them a pair of scissors and say "here you are but whatever you do, DON'T RUN WITH THEM" because the child will run with them as soon as your back is turned. What we do is say "here are some scissors, this is how you run with them safely, now run along! Mind how you go!". This is our way of teaching the children to respect dangerous stationery whilst still fulfilling their citizenship duties. Our pupils go out in the world prepared to defend the realm with crimping scissors, or if necessary, a bayonet. 

Thursday, 1 August 2013

How to get 4 people into a Leyland Mini...


The Leyland Mini - enough to bring a tear to a manboy's eye.

http://www.minionlinemuseum.com/images
Following a recent study conducted by myself and 3 friends, allow me to advise you on the best way to get into (and out of) these sardine tins.

1) Remove all loose items from the car.

2) Remove all objects from your pockets.

3) Remove/ loosen all tight-fitting clothing.

4) Appoint the 2 people who will be sitting in the back, whom we shall call Passengers 1 and 2.

5) Open all the car doors.

6) Fold both front seats down as far as possible which you should find is approximately 7 centimetres.


Passenger 1

7) Raise one leg.

8) Stretch it out in front of you and hop towards the door of the side that you are intending to get in.

9) Wiggle your leg over as far as it will go to the opposite side.

10) When you have that one leg in, bend at the waist and touch your nose to your knees.

11) Use your hands to steady yourself and ease your head, shoulders and arse in through the door frame.

12) Sit down on the back seat.

13) Unfurl yourself so that you are sitting with your bum on the seat, one leg inside the car, one leg outside the car.

14) Retrieve your other leg from outside the car.

15) There will be nowhere to put your other leg inside the car so you will have to curl it around the seat in front of you, between the door and the front seat.

16) Congratulations, you're in - check all your vital signs and that you are still in possession of all your main faculties - touch, sight, hearing, etc.

Now laugh unkindly as you watch Passenger 2 repeat steps 7 - 16.

Passenger 2
Repeat steps 7 - 16.

Passengers 1 & 2
Once you are both in, you are likely to feel hot and, depending on how well your loosened trousers have held up and how well you know each other,  a little embarrassed.

Do not worry. This is completely normal. Simply grit your teeth, smile and avert your eyes.

Passenger 3
It's your turn...

17) CAREFULLY fold the 2 front seats back up. (I think "fold" is probably the wrong word since they don't go down far enough to be "folded" but you know what I mean).

18)  Following much the same method as Passengers 1 and 2, you're going to need to aim as though your planning to put your "junk" in the glove box.

19) When you have fully aligned yourself with the glove box, jerk your pelvis backward and bring your knees up until your butt finds the seat.

20) Then gingerly settle back into the enveloping thighs of the passenger behind you.

Top Tip: Fold your arms because the driver is about to get in and you will suddenly find you have nowhere safe to put them.

Finally, it's time for the Driver to take his position...

Driver
21) You will need to return all the items that the Passengers removed from their pockets and persons. That way you can be sure that they will have the 20p they will need to pay you for the petrol.

22) You will also need to replace all the loose items that were removed from the car in Step 1. You will need to store these items in the remaining nooks and crannies, if you can find any, around your Passengers. Often times, you may need to make use of each Passenger's lap, hands, shoulders and possibly even mouths.

Top Tip: When selecting your Passengers try, where possible, to find thin people with a tiny bit of podge which can cushion them from the objects which will undoubtedly end up being packed around them. 

23) GENTLY close all the doors except the one on the Driver's side.

24) Follow a similar method to Passenger 3, this time aiming your crotch toward the steering wheel.

25) Once in, make sure that you can reach all the pedals.

I say "reach"...reaching them should not be a problem as such, it's more the angle at which your feet are when you try to press them. At the very least, please make sure you can successfully, and with minimal discomfort, press the brake pedal. It is unlikely that you will need to use the brake pedal all that much because most of the time, it will be enough for each of your passengers to simply extend a hand through the window and "paddle" in the opposite direction.

Oh wait - you can't open the back windows?

Brake it is then...

26) Check that everyone is still able to breathe.

27) Close your car door.

28) Waggle the gear stick. I don't know why. I don't drive. This is just something that I see my Dad do before he turns the engine on.

29) ALL PASSENGERS: I hope you feel that you know each other a little better by now because the next step is a little intimate. You are going to need to explore the flesh of the person next to you in order to find the socket for your seat belt, if you are lucky enough to be given the option of having one.

Passenger 3 and the Driver may be lucky enough not to have to dig around in the other person's flesh but don't count on it.

30) Check that you are all able to breathe and agree never to mention how cosy you all got.

Commence countdown, engines on. Off you go...

Further Tips for your Journey
DO NOT lean into corners.

DO be as lightweight as possible.

DO bring a snorkel with you so that you can more effectively suck in air through the gap in the back window.

DO sit on a hemorrhoid pillow to try and combat getting booted up the backside every few seconds by what is laughably called "The Suspension".

DO strap another hemorrhoid pillow to your head for the same reason. The roof of the car is very low!

DO NOT fart!

And finally...

REMEMBER: What happens in the Mini, STAYS in the Mini! 



Saturday, 1 June 2013

Horse-meat scandal! Woman survives consumption of WHOLE, LIVE, HORSE!

Betty Bumpkin*, 84, smiles kindly at me through the myopic haze of her age-addled memory as she recalls how she came to defy modern medicine by surviving the worst recorded case of Hippophagitis since records began.

Nose-to-kneecaps in a chintzy armchair which, presumably, was last upholstered sometime prior to 1974, I attempt to return her toothless smile whilst subtly adjusting the position of my buttocks, in order to accommodate the detritus of the last 40 years, protruding through the pitifully flat cushion. 

Literally furniture-bound, I try in vain to gently wrest an over-full teacup from her shaky hands. Having spent 40 minutes stuck on the godforsaken Coast Road, less than a mile from her front door, eyeing those cliffs almost longingly...I am desperate for a proper cuppa! 

Babbling on about her "darling" bungalow, I learn that she has lived here, in the ironically-named, traffic blackspot of Peacehaville*, since the Fifties. It would seem she has also had the central heating on, continuously, since it was installed. 

Wondering if she'd notice an attempt to catch the raindrops of tea by just stretching my tongue a ...little...further, I reluctantly prepare to take notes on yet another sensationalist bullshit story to feature in "Bumfodder Weekly" or, as most people know it, "Really". Really? Yes. Really. 

Oh don't worry! They don't read their submissions...And I'm only on a government-forced Apprentice Scheme so with any luck they'll fire me and I can get on with being 18. 

Anyway, I'm here today to interview Betty, who, in the light of the recent horse-meat scandal, has written to us with the shocking claim that she has eaten an entire live horse - and survived to tell the tale (and earn £50 and a Royal Jelly gift set to boot)! 

So Betty, what made you decide to eat a live horse? If you were so interested in horse meat, why not just buy a Tesco Value "beef" burger?
Ah, well, you see my dear, it's actually a little known [or perhaps, made-up?] illness called Hippophagitis, not to be confused , of course, with Hippovaginosis which is an entirely different matter and not at all pleasant, but then I wouldn't know, you see, because I've neither got nor had it, but Mr Spencer at the local pharmacy did say that he thinks Mrs White at number 22 might have something funny going on "down there" because she asked for Canesten with her blood-pressure tablets last week, if you ask me, I always said Mr White was a wrongun, I reckon he's been giving it to her in the...

*Cough* Yes, errr, so an illness, you say? Do you know what brought it on?
What brought what on, dear? 

...The Hippophagitis...?
Hippovag...!? I beg your pardon! Oh no dear, not me dear, I've never had nothing like that going on with my you-know-what thank you very much. My mother always said never to go with a foreign gentleman else that's what you get, you see! *Incoherent mumbling...*

*Raising voice* Mrs Bumpkin? I was asking about the HIPPOPHAGITIS? WHEN YOU ATE A HORSE??
Well why didn't you say. Of course! Well I 'et an 'orse dear to catch the cow I et. 

The cow...?
Oh yes, you see, during the war, our food was heavily rationed, and my mother always said "waste not, want not". So I 'ad to eat the whole cow even though I was rather full already what with the dog and everything. And I paid for it afterwards an' all because it really upset my IBS!

I sense I should pause, thoughtfully, and take the time to really delve into the sad back story that she's clearly alluding to. Let's just assume that it involves some sort of WWII-related childhood trauma, an absent father, a profound hunger, blah blah blah...

Focussing on the single, most interesting thing, Betty has said so far, though:

I'm sorry - did you say something about a dog?
Yes, dear, the dog dear, what about him?

Well - it's just that I didn't realise you had a dog?
Had's the word dear. I did have a dog, yes. But I et him. 

Errr...so is that...Caninophagitis?
Well call it what you will dear, I wouldn't advise it. Most unpleasant week of my life, eating that dog...

Well, why did you eat your dog Mrs Bumpkin?
I simply had no choice! That's simply what you have to do in the unlikely circumstance of having eaten a cat!

*Starting to doubt my own sanity and Googling "symptoms of early onset Dementia on my iPhone"*.

I'm beginning to sense that this is a futile question but, may I ask WHY you ate A CAT?
Well you see, I'm a little befuddled as to how it happened. It was a sort of accident you see because, although I admit I did mean to eat Tommy the Cat at the time, I don't really remember the circumstances too well but I think...I think I thought he'd be able to settle my stomach after I et that dodgy seagull. Tommy used to like catching birdies.

Yes... 
Clearly I'm on candid camera so I had better just ride it out with as much dignity as I can muster - maybe this is part of my exam?

Tell me, what made you decide to eat a seagull, specifically? Surely a blue-tit would have been more manageable?
Mmmm you are right there my dear, and had I known what a flap it would cause, I certainly would have chosen more carefully. The thing about seagulls, though, is...the thing about seagulls...

Her head droops onto her saggy chest and she starts to snore. This gives me time to weigh up my options...

1) Make a run for it, fabricate the rest of the article, possibly get found out, and fail my Apprenticeship assessment?

2) Steal from the old bat and try and disappear?

Oooh, what's this? I've been, almost subconciously, rooting down the side of the sofa, in the hope that I might find something to recompense me and, woo hoo! I can feel something like a note...

I surreptitiously try to unbury it and am startled when she jerks awake. Pretending to be looking in my pockets, I laugh nervously at her. She's staring balefully at me as if she had never been asleep and I sense that I ought to carry on where I left off. Best not to mention it, I suppose. 

Where was I, oh yes - the thing about seagulls is that they're very aggressive and so I figured he wouldn't be scared orf by the spider.

The spider...?
Balls. It's a bloody dollar! Maybe I will stop by those cliffs on the way home... Or perhaps I could take Betty for a walk...?

Yes, dear. You know. SPIDER. 'Orrible 'airy thing will all those legs and eyes.

I can't believe it. She's actually trying to mime a spider to me.

YES MRS BUMPKIN. I WAS JUST WONDERING WHY YOU ATE ONE?
Ah yes. Well, it's a funny story actually but it's caused my bowels no end of trouble I can tell you. The doctor wouldn't even grant me an appointment. But you know what it's like these days, I think you have to make some sort of blood sacrifice to the receptionist to get into see them these days, he does sign aspirin prescriptions pretty darn quick though, hands those things out like sweeties he does but, well really, I blame the NHS!

The NHS?
Yes, you see I et a fly, and then I panicked when I could still feel it flapping about. But I used the symptom checker and they...

...said you should eat a spider and then consume progressively larger animals over the coming weeks until you either come to your senses or die of internal bleeding?
What? No! Of course not. NHS Direct didn't help at all. The internetty thing had nothing to say for itself, and when I phoned I just kept getting put on hold. I got the feeling they were all having a laugh at my expense you know!

Noo...
Oh yes. That's what the world's coming to these days. Impersonal and uncaring. It's that David Cameron's fault! Big Society?Big Scam, more like...

You could've gone to A&E...?
Oh no, not me. I haven't been ill since the Eighties. Besides, I don't want to waste anyone's time!

Wondering what she thinks she has been doing for the last hour, I politely phrase, what I hope to be my final question...

What made you eat a fly Mrs Bumpkin?
Ooh I don't know, dear. I don't know...

-- Becky Boo.

In loving memory of Mrs Betty Bumpkin who sadly died last Sunday after suffering complications arising from Polyfaunaphagitis.






Friday, 21 December 2012

Miguel the Lazy Mayan Scribe and His Unintentional Prophecy of the World's End

Miguel the Mayan Calendar Scribe: December the Eighteenth, Two Thousand and Twelve...December the Nineteenth, Two...Thousand...and...Twelve...

Pablo, Miguel's Mate: Psst, Miguel!

Miguel: December the...*looks up* Si??

Pablo: How long have you been writing that sodding calendar?

Miguel: Well I took over from my Dad when he died so I started at March 3rd 1958 I think...I try and do a year or so every day...

Pablo: Riiighhhtt... well, I've finished at the Pyramid for the day, was wondering if you fancied a pint?

Miguel: Nahhh, better get on mate, I've still got another few thousand years to go...

Pablo: Maria will be there....

Miguel: ...TwentiethTwoThousandandTwelve,DecembertheTwentyFirstTwoThousandandTwelve. *throws chisel and rock down*. Done. I'll pick it up again tomorrow.

- That night -

Maria: So tell me about yourself then Miguel...

Miguel: *By now rather drunk, courtesy of Pablo* Well, I'm the guy who knows for definite when the world will end...

Maria: Oh my Mayan God! Really? When?

Miguel: *Inhales sharply* well...I'll be honest with you Maria, we really don't have very long.

Maria: Oh no! How long do we have left!?

Miguel: Just tonight baby...

Maria: Arggh and I haven't had time to do anything I wanted to do...!

Miguel: Then let's make this night count...

*Picks her up and carries her away to his lair hut cave, where, presumably, much intimacy occurs*

- The morning after -

Miguel: *Awakening early with a terrible headache feels something stir behind him. He turns over to find Maria, naked, next to him in bed. Realising what he has done, and remembering the monstrous lie he told her to get her there, he scrambles back into his err, loin cloth?, grass skirt? and dashes out of the ...cave. Never to be seen again.*

- December 2012 AD-

Professer at the University of Stoicism: But, but...this is not possible...according to the Mayan Calendar, the world is due to end on the 21st! It just stops there - no more dates... What could this mean??

Professor at the University of Uncertainty: Well, I'm not entirely sure...

Professor at the University of Bullsh*t: Well clearly the Mayan's knew something we didn't. You can clearly tell from their calculations that they had predicted the end of the world as December 21st 2012. In fact, the Mayans were very advanced in their ability to forsee the future...

Professor at the University of Melodrama: Oh. My. God. Our days are literally numbered.

Editor of the Sun Newspaper:







Sunday, 28 October 2012

And this week: Bewbs!


Afternoon Book Clubbers!

This week I am bringing you a review of the critically *cough* acclaimed men's magazine, Nuts.



The 26 October 2012 issue promises an "All-New Danica Shoot!". Danica (is that Dan - icker or Da-neeka - I dunno), according to the text box on her left booby is from "Celeb BB!" (Translation: Celebrity Big Brother). Celebrity?? Don't get too excited girls, they haven't actually shot her - just taken some tasteless and hilariously ill-posed photos of her in, and occasionally not in,  tacky underwear.

The first article inside is actually a Skyfall Special. Let's see...we've got an interview with Daniel Craig. Probably the last time we are going to hear from a sophisticated male then. I expect most readers would skip this bit and head straight to da bewbies but I gave it a good once over (look out) - just to critique their interviewing style you understand.

Sigh, compared to other interviews I have seen with Mr. Craig in more reputable publications (namely, Empire) I was sorely disappointed. There aren't even any hot pics of the new Q to take my mind off the crapness of it. The interviewer was clearly also impatient to see Danica's nipples because a six-year-old could have come up with more interesting questions. And it's like they told Daniel - "If you could just be as macho and brainless as possible, that would be great!". Appalling grammar, boring content and - if you could just lower your expectations a little more, I'll turn the page...

Of course no self-respecting spunk rag could include a Skyfall Special without featuring a double page spread of a scantily-clad Bond Girl. They have put in a few pics of the really quite pretty Berenice Marlohe. Check out this accompanying text though, it really made me lol...

"You may not have caught her past classics Pas De Secrets Entre Nous or the TV series Equipe Medicale D'Urgence..."

Of COURSE they haven't "caught" these "classics"..they're in FRENCH! Got a lot of French readers have you Nuts? Got a lot of Francophone readers in your home market? No?? You surprise me.

And get this - Berenice is "maybe surprisingly the sixth oldest [Bond girl] at 33 and definitely one of the hottest". Erm, why do we need to know that she is the sixth oldest? And WHY is it surprising? This stinks of I-couldn't-think-what-to-write-and-was-a-bit-stuck-for-facts-about-this-obscure-actress. There's more Skyfall drivel. Don't bother with it. Just go watch the film. It really is a good movie and this "Special" doesn't do it justice so just go! Gogogogogo...I'll still be here when you get back.

--


--

So - did you like it? Good huh? Back to the mockery...

Nuts News features "8 amazing stratos jump facts". Basically, Nuts are unsurprisingly gay for Baumgartner and this is yet more hero worship of that 'complete twazzock what jumped out a plane'. If it is not already crystal clear what I think of that doughnut - please refer to my rant in my previous blog post.

Oh hey! Did you know "The Chinese zodiac has been bestowing years on arbitrary animals since the Han Dynasty of 203BC"? Oop somebody has wikipeed... What's that Mr Nuts-Reader? You don't care?? They just wrote that to try and introduce an article about Rosie Jones's (whose?) 2013 calendar? Well I suppose there have to be some words...otherwise this "exclusive" is just a load of gratuitous nude pics of another fit unknown.

Up next some piffle and spaff about a video game. Then - oh yeah - THEN they do a double page spread of snippets from Sean Lock's new stand-up show. I have nothing against Sean Lock. He's a funny guy but clearly Nuts were stuck for funny material of their own and had to basically just chav other people's and stick it in as some sort of non-porny filler.  I think that's just about the last of the non-titty related stories so let's see what's next...

Hahaha I have just counted how many pages I have left and we are only up to page 24 of 75-odd. (Yeah, I didn't prepare this blog post at all...). Now I realise I would be pushing it to ask for your attention for another 50 pages of textual deconstruction (50 more pages - really!?). So I will just tell you this. Not including the smutty classifieds at the back, I counted no less than 142 pairs of tits from this point in. Most of these are courtesy of Danica and her friends in the poorly named "101 Topless TV Stars!" (...who nobody has ever heard of).

The other articles of note are the problem pages and the confessions - which I shall save for another post because they are just too funny.

One more thing - whoever you girls are who are texting in pics of yourselves in your underwear for the pervs at Nuts to dribble over - STOP IT! It's not sexy okay?