London on Alert as Lion is Posted

 

Lion and (inset) Jiffy Bag

 

London was today put under a high level of alert, as a lion from London Zoo was mistakenly posted to an unspecified address.

The lion, a six-year old male called King Charles II, was posted on May 19 and could arrive “literally anywhere” a zoo spokesman confirmed today.

“We know that on or around four pm on Thursday 19 May, a male lion named King Charles II, was mistakenly packed and posted to a London address in place of a promotional set of DVDs featuring puffins. We think that the address is somewhere in the SW9 area, but cannot be sure”.

Lions have always been an important part of London’s history. For many centuries they formed part of the Royal Menagerie at the Tower, along with bears, tigers and shellfish. Behind bars lions are completely safe, but in the enclosed confines of a suburban hallway they could cause carnage.

Self-professed lion-expert and author of ‘Lions, Lions, Lions’, Bob Tiger, advises caution.

“King Charles II will have been in the post for two, maybe three days by the time he is delivered. Obviously he will have become bad-tempered by this stage, and a bad-tempered lion is not something you want to unwrap by mistake. I would advise extreme caution to anyone who receives a fairly large jiffy-bag in the post in the next day or so. Employ what I like to  call the ‘Bob Tiger Three-Rule Rule’. Rule One: Have a good look; is this a fairly large jiffy bag? If yes, think about Rule 2: ‘is it growling?” If the answers to both 1 and 2 are yes, chances are you’ve got a lion. I can’t remember what Rule 3 was. Something about running. Probably wasn’t important”.

Anyone who thinks they might have a lion in the post should call Radio Five Live at once, as it’s the kind of thing commuters like to laugh at.

 

Chris Huhne Replaced by Owl

Liberal Democrat Cabinet Minister, Chris Huhne, was today dramatically replaced by an owl.

Embattled Energy Secretary Mr Huhne had no comment to make as he left Downing Street this afternoon after his sacking, following allegations he had mislead police over a driving offence. His replacement, the owl, will take up its new position on Monday.

It was a surprise promotion for the owl, who had not been expecting to be raised to Cabinet rank or work with humans. A spokesman for the Prime Minister defended the decision, saying that the owl had excellent, though unspecified, skills.

“Its a fantastic appointment,” confirmed a Downing Street source. “The owl can not only see things with its eyes, but it can also hear with its ears.  And it can move, which is a fundamental quality in any Cabinet Minister. Also, if you drag out the ‘uuuhn’ bit of  ’Huhne’, is sounds a bit like the kind of noise an owl would make, so really its perfect”.

But Labour immediately ridiculed the move. Said Shadow Menagerie Spokesman, Brian Ghosts: “This is yet another example of a Prime Minister not in touch with the needs of the country. He’s appointed an owl to a senior Government position when everyone knows we needed a greyhound. I for one don’t think it’s a hoot” .

The owl was unavailable for comment.

 

QUICK NEWS!!! Trees are Safe, say Coalition

By our Chief Political Correspondent, Royston McCoy…

In the most extraordinary u-turn performed by a Government Minister since Geoffrey Howe’s roller-blading mishap during a visit to Horsham in 1972, the planned privitisation of trees will now NOT go ahead.

Said a spokesbush for Caroline Spelman, Minister in Charge of Trees, Leaves, Greenery, Borders & Really Thoughtfully-Designed Roundabouts, the proposal to privitise everybody’s gardens would be scrapped with immediate effect.

“Mrs Rhododendron has realised that this was, in fact, a stupid idea, and personally threw it on the bonfire herself. Personally. Herself. We as a Government have listened to the British People and have taken note of their green-fingered rage. We assumed nobody gave a shit about who sat in the ticket booth outside the Forest of Dean, but clearly we were bloody wrong. David Cameron will be thrashing himself with an oak tree in the middle of Parliament Square at five o’ clock this evening, if anyone wants tickets”.

Labour Beauty Spot Spokesman, Frances Lovely, welcomed the move. “It is of course humiliating that the Government have been forced to make such a massive u-turn, and obviously that’s the real tragedy here which no-one should forget, ever, but we welcome the decision to save The Peoples’ Forests. Like Robin Hood, the People have sprung out of the greenwood like eight-billion spandex-clad nymphs and pulled out all of the Sherrif of Nottingham’s hair, by which we mean Caroline Spelman, and by thunder they’ve pissed in her handbag and hoisted her knickers up the flagpole, oh, and another thing…”

Mr Lovely went on for a further ten minutes, but nobody knew what he meant.

 

BAFTA awards not awarded to everyone

Some people left the BAFTA Awards last night without winning any BAFTA awards, reports CT Entertainment Correspondent, Amy Shoes.

The evening began with some people winning BAFTA awards and continued with some people winning BAFTA awards, but as the night wore on, it slowly became clear that some people were not going to win BAFTA awards. As each category came and went, with some people winning BAFTA awards and other people not winning BAFTA awards, rumours began to circulate that whilst some people were going to win BAFTA awards, some people were not.

Set Designer Pete Knees won a BAFTA Award for his set designing, but in a shock result Set Designer Dick Dad did not win a BAFTA Award for his set designing. Similarly, Choreographer Lisa Peace did not win a BAFTA Award for her Choreographing, even though Choreographer Lesley Jesus won a BAFTA Award for her Choreography.

Later on an Actor tipped to win a BAFTA Award won a BAFTA Award. Ṧtévén Mičé won his BAFTA Award for acting the part of someone in the film, ‘A Man’s Place’, but another actor did not win a BAFTA Award for acting as someone in the film, ‘Hilary’s Year’, and nor did a separate actor who also acted as a person in the film, ‘Following Michael’. In a similar result, an actor did not win a BAFTA Award for her role as a person in the film, ‘Midnight Feet’, but another actor went on to win a BAFTA award for his role playing a different person to himself in the film, ‘Becoming Mrs Parsons’.

Colin Firth did not win a prize.

Those BAFTA results almost in full:

Best Film…………………………. A Man’s Place

Best Actor in a Film…………… Ṧtévén Mičé (A Man’s Place)

 Best Other Actor in a Film…… Diane Soup-Marsupial (Adam’s Holiday)

 Best Supporting Actor in a Film…. Jason Landlord (Janet’s Holiday)

Best Short Film…………………………Beating up Grandad

Best Animated Film…………………..Sh1T – Donkeys!

 

The Big Interview

Actor Jeremy Irons talks career, diplomacy & Clangers, and reveals his favourite bus route to Amy Shoes…

Jeremy Irons is late, so I take a corner table in one of Piccadilly’s newest restaurants, The Liza Minnelli Experience, and go through my questions carefully. He detests being asked about his alleged resemblance to Richard II (he once punched Michael Aspel through a Burger King window), so I quickly discard that one. I also decide to lose the one about co-hosting Springwatch with Bill Oddie; I don’t want any flashbacks to the eagle owl incident, not in a crowded restaurant. And of course people are eating…

Irons, when he arrives, is effusive in his apologies. I ask if the bus was late, and he laughs. “No, I knocked over a display in the Disney Store. I had a burger at the time, and got some mayonnaise on a Buzz Lightyear, so obviously I had to offer to clean him up. It came off pretty easily actually, just a few wipes and it was gone. But then I fell on a child”. Is he normally clumsy? “No, not usually. Though having said that,  I did recently drop a Nintendo Wii on Juliette Binoche”.

Jeremy Irons has been one of Britain’s most bankable stars since his big break  back in 1955. At the time he was working on and off for the United Nations, where his duties included ordering stationary, watering the Aspidistras, and filling in for Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld whenever he’d been on one of his legendary Schnapps benders. “Yes, it taught me a lot about acting, and a lot about making policy on behalf of the Western world. In fact, I almost made a ‘Korea’ out of it”. He laughs and I enjoy the joke, but after a moment or two he  becomes suddenly serious. “You know Vietnam was my fault?” he says, his distinctive rasping tone  wracked with what sounds like guilt. “I was reading for a part in the Clangers and I took my eye off the ball”. There’s a pause, and then he brightens. “Still, f**k it”.

Back to the topic. We’re here to talk public transport, and I venture to ask about his favourite way of getting around London. “The 159″, he answers smoothly, without a trace of a hesitation. “The 159 is one of the best bus routes in London, if not the world. Do you know you can get from Brixton all the way to Edgeware Road on that b*tch? It’s a mind-f**k”. There’s the 3, I say. That takes you pretty much the same way. Irons rolls his eyes contemptuously. “Sure, if you want to look like a bell-end, take the 3. It’s for old women and chimps”. He shakes his head at my suggestion. “You might as well get in a wheelie bin and ask Aled Jones to give you a push”. So it’s not ’cool’ then? He doesn’t even answer this time, preferring to spit a chunk of asparagus at a passing guide dog. It’s not cool then.

Over coffee we talk about the films he’s made since leaving the UN. I particularly want to ask him about his remake of The Man in the Iron Mask, recently voted by the Academy Best Film of All Time. “We had no idea we were making such a hit”, he recalls. “It was just another job; it was only afterwards I realised just how my portrayal of Aramis changed everybody’s lives. Before that, you could go down the Old Kent Road and get a chicken burger from any shop you passed; now you try it, people are all dressed in seventeenth-century wigs and shouting about Popery”. He shakes his head in amazement. “You can’t get anything now; not even a bag of chicken dippers. It’s all mead and porridge. And everything’s in groats! We did that. But was it right?”

Its time to go, and Irons insists on paying the bill. “No, I wouldn’t hear of it”, he maintains, as I ask him about the decline of the crab population in the Orkney Islands. I suppose that’s fair enough, not many people would have heard of it. But with Irons’ huge intellect and ravenous capacity for learning, you’d think if anyone would, it would be him. I ask about the rumours he bought the British Library just so he had something to read on a flight to Jersey. “No, no that was such tabloid nonsense”. But are the tabloids always wrong? I hold my breath and go for it: did he eat that puffin? “The puffin…yes, that was true. I’m totally ashamed of that, but I was with Terry Nutkins and he dared me…look, I was stupid. Its something I regret”. And what about Bill Oddie and the eagle owl? Irons is blank a moment, then grins wickedly. “That was f**king delicious”.

Tickets for the 159 can be purchased from the box office; quote the Clockwork Times to get your free copy of ‘Memorable Bus Routes Compiled by the Cast of Die Hard’

 

 

News: Descartes behind Monkey Kidnap

By The CT’s Resident Psychoanalyst, Dr. Sherwood Knocker

Pebbles the chimpanzee was last night relaxing with friends after being returned safe and well to Potherington Civic Zoo. The 3 year old self-confessed “pleasure seeker” had been missing for a fortnight when Police received an anonymous tip-off that kids’ entertainer and pop-philosopher Descartes (pictured) had taken Pebbles from his “Monkey Palace” home when it was dark. Descartes was tracked to a hideout in Leamington Spa, where he handed the ape over without resistance. “I’m glad he’s back safe”, said Detective Inspector Peter Jam, “there’s always the risk with chimps that they will be mutilated and sold to Heinz as cheap labour”.

Cold Comfort

Descartes, who has encountered difficulty with his latest “Dualism and Bouncy Castle” tour, spent last night behind bars: the Orange Sunset Bar, Brighton, the Café Go-Go Restaurant and Private Members’ Club, Cirencester, and the Rudolph Hess Lounge, Worthing. All three establishments told him to get out and, in some cases, stay out. Meanwhile, Pebbles has been told by doctors he should not read the Daily Mail until December.

Descartes in the Early Days & (inset) Pebbles.

How Descartes Beat the System:

1. 21:35: Descartes enters the Zoo claiming he is a passing Frog Trader. A silly Zoo Guard lets him in.
2. 21:42: Descartes creeps behind the Zoo Offices using a sapling as camouflage. He needn’t have bothered: the staff are made of paper.
3. 21:45: Descartes enters the deserted Nocturnal Gallery. Fearing the “Spooky Noises” section he soon retreats.
4. 21:59: Attracted by the “South American Gateway”, Descartes makes his way Southwards. But the exhibit is closed.
5. 22:05: Pebbles is kidnapped from the Sea Lions Enclosure, where he is playing dominos. Descartes escapes with the chimp on a nearby heron.

 

News: Animal confusion at City Farm

By nature lover and nudist, Anne Phlange

Trevor Cleftbrook was at the centre of a confusing moment at “Touch our Animals City Farm” in Wandsworth last week.

The commotion began as Trevor approached the donkey enclosure. “I was taking a look round the farm during my lunch hour and spotted the donkeys, which looked quite bored. I wanted to point them out to my colleague who was also there with me, but mistakenly refereed to them as sheep – suddenly chaos ensued!”

easily confused.

Graham Ardman, owner of “Touch our Animals City Farm” said he was appalled. “If a grown man can’t even remember the name of a common farm yard animal, no wonder the country is going down the pan and more and more prone to an meteor attack every day” he said, gazing into the sky.

“Touch our Animals City Farm” closed for the afternoon but has now reopened for more friendly animal petting. Nothing lewd mind.

 

Dating Times

Dating Times is brought to you exclusively by The Clockwork Times. Our picks from this edition are:

Davinia
Hi ya sexy bod!!!!!!!
God, where do I staaaaaaart?!!!!!
My name’s Shirley, I’m 43 and live in Coventry, yaaaaaay!!!!!! No, Coventry’s not that bad, NOT!!!!!!! I work in IT, but would really like to get into publishing, as I love reading books, especially erotic books!!!!!!!!! Oh God, I can’t believe I said that, you’ll think I’m such a perve!!!!!!!!!! I’ve got quite a mad personality, as most of my friends will tell you. I love to laugh, especially in Church when the vicar’s old and can’t remember his lines. I also love going out with my mates round Coventry – our favourites club is ‘Bender’s'!!!!! Last month it was my friend’s hen night; we got really drunk, and I was arrested for snogging a cardboard model of the new town hall!!!!!! Ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!!!!!
I often vom.
Mail me if you think we’ll click! (IT joke, ha ha ha ha!!!!!)
Ref 2309756

Alan
Just calling to say i love you!

Hello to all you lovely ladies out there!
The name’s Alan, and I’m seventy-two years old. Don’t let that put you
off! I once went for four minutes. I’m retired, as you might expect, and in my spare time do a lot of gardening. I have two dogs, Jasper and Mr. Balderdash, and enjoy nothing more than walking with them through my house. I also enjoy drinking a spot of tea in the morning, before my daily toilet trip.
I sleep quite a lot, and can be pretty offensive.
Give me a call!
Alan.
Ref 2309668

Frank
Ahoy there!

Hi, I’m Frank. I’m forty-seven years old, and come from Plymouth. My hobbies include sailing and discovering things – last week I discovered seven pounds down the back of the sofa. I bought a new tie.
I guess I’m looking for an adventurous wench who likes to toss up and down on the ocean blue. (You’ve got to watch what you say around me! I’ll find the double meaning in anything!) I’ve got a long rapier. (Wahey!)
Hmm, I tend to go for ginger virgins, but being a sailor I’m happy to visit any port (Boom boom!) Sorry, you’ll have to take me as you find me; I’m quite a catch (nautical reference again), and love it when someone handles my potatoes. (By which I actually do mean potatoes – I discovered them too).
God I’m handsome.
Throw me a line, and I’ll drop my anchor!
(But not my trousers; I don’t go that far on a first date – unless you really shiver my timbers!)
Not quite sure what I meant there.
Wahey!
Ref 11 88 88

A selection of other clients on our books:

Female, 26, looking for man to play tiddlywinks with. Or to play with my tiddlywinks.
Ref 2309854

Male, 18, seeks girl with house overlooking nudist colony
Ref 23094332

Person, not too old, looking for another person to find out who I am. Call me Dave or Sarah, you decide.
Ref 2309386

Female, 23, I believe in a thing called love, just listen to the rhythm of my heart, There’s a chance we can make it now, We’ll be lookin’ till the sun goes down, I believe in a thing called love, Ooooooh.
Ref 2309214

Female, 32, looking for a man to go fishing with her. You know, fishing… fishing… get it?
Ref 2309167

Male, 28, You be my lamppost and I’ll be your pavement. See how romantic I am?
Ref 2309635

Male, 25, Now I go cleanin’ windows to earn an honest bob, For a nosy parker it’s an interestin’ job
Ref 2309635

Female, 26, Can you watch my bag while I try this trouser suit on? Cheers darlin’
Ref 2309648

 

Feature: Anne of Gitting-Barrow

Curl up with the CT’s Coffee Hour, and the second part of our romantic serial: ‘Anne of Gitting-Barrow’…

By Sharon Bronte.

Chapter Two

(Anne enters her teenage years, and meets the handsome Willoughby Chuff).

‘It weren’t long after my fourteenth birthday that Ma decided school were no good for me any longer. She said Mr. Whipsnade had had a long talk with my form mistress, Miss. Spencer-Waddle, and both of them were fully agreed. Miss. Spencer-Waddle reckoned I’d be no better for staying on; she said my English were poor and my ‘rithmatic even worse. She said I were no good on the games field, and my cooking left a lot to be desired. (It weren’t my fault she got food poisoning from my lemon meringue pie, and as for the accident with the Victoria Sponge – well! Mr. Whipsnade shouldn’t have been standing with his todger so close to the MagiMix).

So I left the little school and all my friends, and went to begin work as a scullery maid at the local manor. (There were eleven local manors dotted about the village, and every week they’d be a romantic melodrama unfolding in one of them. Granny once told us about a ruction that happened up at Badger’s Pants Hall some years back, when she were just seven. There was some trouble involving a girl, her evil fiancée who just wanted her for the money, and a poor gardener with only half a face and no arse who really loved her, but thought she’d never be interested as he only had half a face and no arse. But amazingly enough, the girl realised she didn’t love her evil fiancée, and instead decided to marry the poor gardener with only half a face and no arse, who then discovered he was related to the king. The king made him Lord of Berkshire, and the evil fiancée met a sticky end during a climatic duel in a trumpet factory. It were made into a novel by someone called Tabitha Fumble. She gave herself a different pen name; something Austen I think it was. Anyway, they divorced in the end, and the children were sold for cheap labour. Granny said it were a shame).

I enjoyed working at Knackerley Manor. The work were easy; I just had to scull about in the scullery. The cook were a nice

old fat woman called Mrs. Saddlebum; she were really fat. Really, really fat. In fact, she were so fat that the Government eventually classified her as a battleship. (She eventually got sent to the North Sea, where she sank three German cruisers and a peddle-o).

The housekeeper weren’t so nice. She called herself Mrs. Hardbrush, mainly because it was her name. She were evil, even more evil than Mr. Whipsnade. She hated me from the first moment we met, right from the moment I pulled the pepper mill out of her left nostril. She said I’d put it there on purpose! But it were an accident. And I didn’t push her down the back stairs on a tricycle either! AND I didn’t fill up her blouse with potting compost. AND it wasn’t me who interfered with the elastic in her knickers right before the bishop came round for tea. Oh, but she hated me all right. If she felt like it, she’d really tell me off. If she were being really wicked, she’d even send me to bed without a Brandy.

Lord and Lady Chuff were really nice. He was a jolly old fellow, who liked to hunt and drink and chase the local women. The only woman he didn’t chase was Mrs. Saddlebum, because he’d tried it once and caught her. (He told me he still had dents in his pantaloons, and had to take pills for his ‘Dicky Thomas’. I didn’t know what that was).

Lady Chuff were much quieter, but none the less nice to me for all that. She managed to teach me how to read properly, and I practised on the tins in the kitchen cupboard. By the time I’d been there a year, I could spell my name perfect, though it were twenty-years before I realised I weren’t called ‘Fifty percent beef extract with no added colouring’. (And a further five before I found out my middle name weren’t ‘Apply liberally round rim with damp cloth’).

But it were the young master who opened my eyes to a whole other world. His name were Willoughby, and he were all of seventeen years old, though with a chin that made him look thirty-three. He used to walk with me in the gardens, when I’d finished all my chores. He spoke kindly to me, and taught me all about the birds, the bees, the rushes along the riverbank, the squirrel’s dray up in the old oak tree, the swallows’ eggs in the outhouse gables, the hedgehog prints by the kitchen garden – he were right sodding keen on nature. (I had to give him a slap when he went on for six hours about the bloody Wombles).

Still, they were pleasant days and no mistake, though brought to an end much quicker than I could have known. It came completely out of the blue, like Lord Chuff on a penny-farthing chasing the curate’s wife. My life turned upside down, and Gitting-Barrow weren’t never the same again. Things changed for good after the summer of 1914’.

 

News: ‘Pay-As-You-Go Sting’ Withdrawn From Shelves

By Our Science Correspondent, Gil Remington

The mobile pop star giant, PocketPop UK Ltd, today withdrew each of its Pay As You Go Stings from supermarket shelves across the country.

Said company spokesman, Graham Cornwallis: “It has been brought to our notice that the popular Sting model has certain defects, which if uncorrected, could pose considerable health and safety problems for the consumer. We have therefore decided to remove this product from stores in order to correct this unfortunate flaw. We hope to have them back in the shops by Christmas. If anyone has got one of our Stings at home, we urge them to throw it in the neighbour’s birdbath quickly, but safely’.

A suitable disposal area for your Pay-as-you-go Sting

The Pay As You Go Sting has been one of PocketPop’s most popular sellers. Having first topped up their credit from special Sting-shaped Currency Booths (President Chirac is said to have one in his private toilet), customers can then choose from six Sting classics, ranging from ‘Fields of Gold’ to ‘Roxanne’ and ‘Englishman in New York’ to enjoy. The song is then played through microscopic speakers, whilst the head tilts back and forth to mimic a live stage performance.

However, the glitch, which has come to the attention of consumers in Bolton, concerns a rendition of ‘Every Breath You Take’ which in actual fact sounds more like the popular Victorian music hall song, ‘Grandad’s Run Off In My Trousers’, originally performed by ‘Cheeky’ Johnny Frobisher in 1871. The legal rights to this composition have long since been eaten by a cat, but that has not stopped certain descendents of Mr. Frobisher from claiming that the company is guilty of a breach of copyright.

Perhaps more worryingly for PocketPop however, is the theory put forward by Professor Max Wiltshire, from the University of East Feltham, that the Pay As You Go Sting is actually dangerously unstable, due to the tiny nuclear reactor each is powered by.

“It’s no joke to say that two elephants walked off a cliff, boom boom. No sorry, that is a joke, but it would certainly be no laughing matter if one of these Stings went off in your face. I couldn’t say exactly what might happen, but I would cautiously estimate that most of the South East would be destroyed, and possibly Taunton. Of course, it’s quite possible that nothing would happen, but if it did, and you’d ignored the warning signs, how would you ever explain it to your dog? Or child? No, I would advise people to be safe rather than sorry; it’s just not worth the risk. Oh, by the way, has anyone seen those Pay As You Go Stings that sing his classic hits for a small charge? I’m getting one of them for Christmas. They look fun’.

 

Brenda Norse – She’s A Horse

Brenda’s back from her championship-winning tour of Latvia, and ready to sup greedily from the Westminster nosebag once again – and remember, you heard it here first!

WHAT the hell does this Government thinks it’s playing at?! One minute they’re one hundred and ten per cent opposed to university top-up fees, the next, they can’t wait to start the cash tills buzzing like a half-price day in Pound Stretcher. The whole thing reminds me of a donkey I used to know when I was growing up outside Ottery St. Mary. (And we all know what donkeys are like. Particularly ones from the West Country). Anyway, one minute this fatuous ass was turning his ridiculous nose up at a plate of Farmer Benjamin’s best tinned lobster in scallop and codswallop sauce, the next he couldn’t wait to gobble down as much of the glutinous crap as he could! Contrary old buzzard.
Ironically, Farmer Benjamin had actually put seven ounces of strychnine in it that time, and off went Donald to the knacker’s yard. There’s a moral there somewhere if I could just…nah, s*d it.

SO – are the Tories finally back on track? After years of shifting uncomfortably on their well-paid derrières, it seems as though they’ve finally discovered a common tool with which to bash Blair and his wearisome posse into quivering submission – Top Trumps!

Yes, every PM’s Q’s since Michael Howard took over as the Tories’ jolly bus driver, the Opposition benches have seen more quick-handed shuffling than Clapham Common on a moonless night. Insiders are confident that the card games (which include Marvel Super Heroes, American Ex-Presidents and the NHS) will help the newly resurgent Tories to formulate a winning strategy to snatch election victory from the jaws of Labour. Said Tory MP, Kipper Catbrush (Pillowdale West, and current Super-Tankers champion), ‘We’re getting ready to give those Labour swine a damn good thrashing. They can pick any category, and we’ll beat them. Education, Social Services, Work and Pensions, Transport, Fast Bikes, Fantasy Creatures, Tennis Stars of the 1850s… the list goes on and on. I mean, basically we’re in an unassailable position. Unless of course Tony Blair chooses Motor Caravans or Belgian Hairstyles 1675 – 1809. We’ve been to every WHSmith in Westminster and can’t find them. I bet those bloody Liberals have bought the last two packs.

Rotters’.

SHAME! No, not another politician caught playing Swing Ball in the nude (if it hadn’t been for that speed camera, we’d never have known, Peter), but the latest single from those troublesome Back Bench Boys! Yes, cross-party heartthrobs Jim, Fats, Digger and Mr. P are back with the follow up single to last October’s record-breaking George Michael cover, Wake Me Up Before You Put Me In A Foundation Hospital. The new single is predicted by experts to go straight in at number one, so don’t forget to check out TOTP, BBC One on Friday evening to catch the first ever performance of Tuition My Aaase!!!

Looks like it’ll go down a storm – it’s a pity Robin Cook’s solo career hasn’t taken off in the same way, but I guess the country isn’t quite ready for Jingles the Happy Gnome just yet.
Wally.

That’s all the rats chased out of the milkmaid’s knickers for this week – see ya soon for a load more silage slopping! Or if you can’t keep away for more than a minute, I’ll be at the Conservative Party Gymkhana on Parliament Square, Saturday afternoon – I’ll be the one leaving my mark on the shiniest shoes. Catch you there!

Bren.

 

News: Labour Leadership Contender Contends Labour Leadership

This shock announcement by Spin McDonald, Political Correspondent

Labour’s silence over its internal leadership feuding was dramatically shattered this week, when a leading plotter broke cover on Friday. But to the clear dismay of three- and-a-half year old Billy Tinkle, from Welwyn, it was not Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown, but the man who cleans out No. 10′s crocodile enclosure, the Right Reverend Patrick Pew-Yewling.

Saucy

Rev. Pew-Yewling announced his leadership bid in the Purple Hippo, Whitehall, on Friday night. According to nose-witnesses, the elderly cleric finished off his eighth pint of the landlord’s finest before slamming Labour’s record in power, condemning Tony Blair for betraying Labour’s roots, creating a two-tier NHS, and allowing visitors to Downing Street to relieve themselves in the terrapin pool. He then joined in an energetic line dance.

The speed at which Rev. Pew-Yewling, 77, has established his leadership credentials has impressed many political analysts, and athletics commentators.

“I’d be happy to see this man establish his leadership credentials for the UK at the next Olympics”, said BBC sports journalist, Doug Dagenham. “He was off the blocks and going for gold even before Gordon Brown had put his trousers on. Incredible”. “And a dab hand with a banana”, added wildlife expert, Anna Hairy. “I’ve seen him coax a baboon out of a Sycamore with just one bunch. Tony Blair should be worried”.

Harmless fun?

Fiat Uno

Rev. Pew-Yewling has been in his furry post since 1985, when Margaret Thatcher installed the monkey house in the garden of No. 10 after receiving it as a gift from President Cliff Kawanga, of the People’s Republic of Stratford-upon-Avon. The crocodiles were a controversial addition, included in the Prime Ministerial menagerie during John Major’s administration. Whitehall rumour has it that political opponents and off-message aides were fed to the prehistoric beasts during Major’s own leadership troubles, but despite frequent reports of high-pitched screaming and the discovery of assorted limbs scattered about Horse Guards Parade, no evidence was ever found.

Seven? Careful, Alan

However, despite his self-proclaimed suitability for the top job, Whitehall officials have dismissed Rev. Pew-Yewling’s challenge as ‘largely balls’.

“He knows his pandas from his porcupines, but politically he’s a fish out of water”, said Kong Hooper, the Prime Minister’s unofficial jeans spokesman. “I’d be very surprised if this article is taken seriously”.

But Rev. Pew-Yewling’s campaign manager, Cardinal Glenda Bounder, believes that the holy man’s chances are good. “He’s got a very hands-on approach to things; he’s always got his hands on something. Whether it’s a baby penguin, or a passing choirboy, his hands will be on it. On it like a whippet. Amazing. Yes, sometimes he’s been arrested, but haven’t we all? I know I have. Christ, loads of times”.

Pepys: played for Fulham

Gordon Brown will be watching Rev. Pew-Yewling’s bid for power with keen interest, but one man who won’t, is dead diarist, social observer and semi-professional footballer, Samuel Pepys. Speaking on GMTV this morning, seventeenth- century historian, Gollings Boland said that he was convinced the famous commentator would have wanted to know what was going on. “I’m sure he’d have been really quite interested; he always enjoyed his current affairs. It’s a pity in many ways”.

(Should monkeys be given booze and fast cars? You decide, page 11)

 

Feature: Is This Christ’s Sock?

By Historical Expert, Professor Podman Clumwitt, Senior Lecturer in Menswear, at the University of East Feltham

A sock believed to have belonged to Jesus Christ (4BC-30AD) has been handed in to Ealing Broadway Tube Station’s Lost Property Office. Although theologians are not sure if the sock is definitely that of “the Messiah”, they can agree on one thing: it probably is. Professor Skid Barrows of Cheam Leisure Centre explained: “Everything seems to fit and I mean that literally. We talked about it and considered that at one end of the spectrum Jesus might have had very very tiny feet, like small earphones. On the other hand, he might have had massive feet, like yachts. The safest bet is to say he had medium sized feet; that way you’re closest to most eventualities. The sock handed in is just that: medium-sized”.

A Nice Man

The sock, a Slazenger classic with red quadruple style-stripe, is currently being analysed at the Cheam Leisure Centre Laboratory. Doctor Skid Barrows takes up the story: “It’s clearly of Middle Eastern origin, that’s plain. And I’d certainly place it before Claudius’ Adidas Edict of 43AD…this was a Golden Age for socks”. Jesus, whose life has been the subject of Musicals by both Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Handel, was known for being nice in his lifetime, as well as being “a bit whacky”, according to Historian Skid Barrows OBE. “He was certainly a character. Some of the things he said could be seen as a bit mad. But his heart was in the right place, and his winning the Jerusalem Under 35s Donkey Race of 30AD won him great acclaim. I suppose you could call him a loveable rogue”. The Vatican has expressed an interest in buying the sock, as well as a new satellite dish with 50 new channels, including some porn.

Ancient Sock and (inset) Jesus points out he has both ‘A’ and ‘O’ Levels.

 

Promotion: Clockwork Times Endorsements

John Prescott Says:

“I’ve made The Clockwork Times one of my Internet Favourites because, and notwithstanding the fact that despite an inclination to believe contrariwise, there is and I quote, although you’ll hear arguments in the media suggesting the opposite and I’ve always maintained this, I’ve said it at Party Conference and I’ll be saying it to the Prime Minister, concessions permitting, that this particular website, provided the correct conditions be met and I must make this clear from the outset because we can’t afford to fudge the concept as you’ll recall this was a problem under the Tories without the which I wouldn’t be standing here in Bolton today examining policies for a more positive Britain despite and maybe because of the best efforts of our opponents and wreckers from inside the party to ruin our chances of re-election in 2005.”

Jack Straw Says:

“I liked it”

 

Promotion: Marr Mask

For CT readers only, we present – Marr Mask!

Marr Mask is here!

• Pretend YOU are Andrew Marr (from BBC’s ‘The News’)!
• Interview important people, real or imagined!
• Go to posh restaurants and demand a nice seat!
• Get your friends to sing paeans to your journalistic excellence!
• Wave your arms around…..JUST LIKE ANDREW!!!!