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!!!!

 

News: Tories Nearly Elect Howard

• Election process produces surprise result
• ‘Not cock up’ insist party loyalists
• ‘Laughter’

By Our Chief Political Editor, Royston McCoy

The Conservative Party, in what is already being described as ‘one of the most peculiar elections in the history of democracy’, has voted unanimously to appoint a battery-powered pigeon to the position of Leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition, The CT has learned from reading other newspapers.

Pigeon: “policies”

Jiff Lemon

In a statement apparently released immediately following the result, visibly confused Tory whip Jazz Charleston confirmed the appointment, and said that the pigeon had the majority support of the parliamentary party, as well as the Conservative Party in the country. But many fear that there has been some sort of mistake.

“It is clear to me that some sort of mistake has been made, ‘ said Tory MP Toff Snobham, from the constituency of Titcombe Mallard North. “The ballot paper only had one name on it, and that name was Michael Howard”. His colleague, Leg Spinner (Saggy Bottoms & District), agreed. “I didn’t notice any other name present. Unless it was the one that said ‘battery-powered pigeon’. But that was a joke. That was obviously a joke. I mean, I ticked the box next to it, but it was a laugh. Wasn’t it?’

Junction Seven

The election to the Conservative Leadership of a battery-powered pigeon has led many Tories to question their particular method of polling, with many privately believing that the tricky business of choosing should be left to talented dolphins.

But it is not the first time that a political party has had problems with its balloting process. In 1887, a succession of failed leadership bids and an outbreak of explosive diorreah from the backbenches led to the Labour Party electing as leader, a Pay As You Go mobile telephone, with just £3.50 left on credit. And in 1907, the usually foolproof method employed by the Liberal Democrats of kicking a wolf until it bit someone, produced an unusual result when it got confused and bit itself. (To this day, Charles Kennedy’s party are forced to endure jibes flung at them by journalists concerning 1909’s controversial ‘Three Little Pigs Policy’, which prohibited the building of butchers’ shops with anything other than straw. Much of the country’s fresh meat produce was subsequently blown away during the Big Fart of 1910, resulting in an explosion of cheap plasticine imports from Nicaragua. Many were ill.).

Stop It, Kenneth

Analysts believe the battery-powered pigeon’s election may not be quite what the Tories need right now. “It just flaps from one end of the room to the other”, said a clearly frustrated Mickey Pong, (MP, My Bishop’s Court, Guv’nor). “Back and forth, back and forth. And it’s eyes light up in the dark. What sort of a pigeon does that?” Liberal Democrat Beard spokesman, Lyle Groovy was equally dismissive of the Tories’ choice. “It’s a pigeon! What’s it going to do? Coo?!” he shouted from the top of the corduroy cupboard in the Common’s Rainforest-Themed Dining Room.

But others have pledged their support for the battery-powered pigeon. “It’s a good laugh”, said MP for Thingford & the Regions, Luck Halliday. “If you get bored of watching it go back and forth, back and forth, you can clap your hands and it goes ‘eeeeeeeee’”. Eloise Prawnsgrove, 137, from Fuff, agreed. “I always liked Mr. Macmillan. He was ever such a nice man. We used to buy all our turnips from him, and he’d always let me tickle his dog. Is the war still on?”

Butter-Side Down?

Other MPs questioned said they were sure it would probably be fine.

“Obviously we will all get behind the pigeon”, said Thistle Frisker, MP for the Borough of Nicholas & Lower A bigail. “The pigeon has set out some interesting policies so far, not all to do with feathers, and we intend to use them to hold this discredited Government to account. Once they’ve stopped laughing”.

“It could have been worse,” added Shadow Nose Job secretary, Wiff O’ Dell. “In ‘54, we elected a plate of mince”.

“I just hope the battery’s a Duracell one”, added party bigwig, Lord Bigwig. “They last for ages; we’ve had the same one in our telly remote for seven years”.

Michael Howard’s office in Smith Square has refused to comment on the battery-powered pigeon’s appointment, although exotic swear words could be heard coming through the extractor fan in the basement toilets.

(Analysis: Page 7)

Order your own battery-powered pigeon, vole or elephant shrew at Dick’s Fun Shop before December 11th, and he’ll give you your very own political party absolutely free.

 

News: Voters Blast ‘Big Conversation’

By Royston Mcoy, Chief Political Correspondent

Tony Blair’s latest attempt to re-connect with a dissatisfied country went badly wrong today, when he asked them what they wanted him to do and they told him.

Labour’s ‘Big Conversation’ is the latest in a long line of attempts to re-connect with a disillusioned electorate, but many feel it is no more than a half-hearted attempt to curry public favour before the General Election. More disturbingly for the Government, according to a My – Deaf – Monkey – Could – Do – It – Better – Even – If – It – Was – In – A – Suitcase poll conducted for the Spoon, eighty-nine per cent of those questioned now believe that the New Labour project has run out of steam.

The Prime Minister began his listening exercise by meeting local representatives at Wally’s Wintry Water World in Basingstoke, who hoped to force a change in the controversial top-up fees policy, championed by Education Secretary, Charles Clarke.

But the only concession on offer that day, was three slides for the price of two on Sammy Seal’s Slippery Splash-Spume, with five minutes in the Bubble Tank for politically challenged under-fives. Dogs were also welcome.

…fifteen pounds if it was an ounce.

After his splash, the Prime Minister enjoyed a plate of microwave chips and a Penguin Pop in the complex’s ‘Polar Bar’, before moving on to talk to voters.

Said one source of the exercise, “Tony was completely wrong-footed from the start. He made the mistake of telling the electorate he was prepared to listen, and that was that. There was no getting out of it. He’d puffed his last Hamlet. He’d lost his receipt. He’d boarded the last train to Dagenham.

He’d caught his weasel in the fly-mo. To put it bluntly, he’d been ambushed by the choirmaster in the rhubarb patch”.
Others agreed less metaphorically. “He was clearly ill at ease”, said press aide, Stu Charmers. “An elderly gentleman asked him what he proposed to do about the pensions crisis, and he just stared at his elbows. He eventually answered, but it came out in Chinese.”

Tensions worsened when the Premier was questioned about his stance on Iraq. Said Charmers, “He couldn’t hack it. He tried to hide in a locker. Eventually, he was prised out by lifeguards, but then ran behind his wife’s skirt. John Prescott had to divert attention with his doughnut trick. It was embarrassing”. A brief respite for the PM came when eighty-four year old Desmond Whopper asked if his canary could be given a driving licence. A clearly relieved Mr. Blair joked, “Yes, that should be fine. Providing it can be done on the cheep”.
He seemed pleased with the resulting laughter, but when questioned afterwards, most present said they’d been watching attendants trying to prise an old woman out of the Lucozade machine.

The Conversation Bus is due to arrive in Northampton next week, where the Prime Minister will face another barrage of hostile questions. “Northampton should be better”, Labour Fudge Spokesman, Larkin Mallowfield asserted confidently. “We’ve already done a quick reconnaissance, and there are lots of places to hide. At the moment, we’re going with the large sunflower pot outside Glen’s Grow-Your-Own, but it could change at the last minute. Another alternative is ‘Beryl’s’, on the high street. Their Christmas display could conceal half the cabinet”.

 

News: Owls? Excellent, But Not Constantly.

By Trish Parsons

A man from Ching has developed the first all-weather ‘Owl-Ignorer’. Jiff Smithing, a stockbroker from the small village of Wee, had the idea for the device when his family visited Smeeforth Owl Sanctuary, in Clapper. “All my family were really interested in the owls, but after a while I wasn’t at all. I looked at them for a bit, but then just wanted to sit down and read the paper,” said Jiff. “Unfortunately, my children kept coming up to me, pulling at my arm and saying, ‘look Daddy, look at the owls’. I tried to explain that I’d already seen them, but they didn’t understand”.

Jiff hit upon the idea of his Owl-Ignorer soon afterwards. “We were watching television, it was ‘Wildlife on One’, and it was about owls”, recalls Jiff. “I watched it for a while, about twenty-five minutes, maybe half an hour, then decided I’d go and see if my plant was all right. But my wife called out from across the room, ‘Jiff, look at the owls. They’re swooping over a river to catch fish’. So I had to put down my watering can and go and see the owls again, even though I’d already been watching them earlier. I just really wanted to ignore them. That’s when I got the idea”.

Jiff’s Owl-Ignorer works on the basis of not being able to see or hear owls, almost as if they weren’t there. Shaped rather like a box, it attaches to the body over the head, using the shoulders as a solid platform to rest on. Fastened to the device is a long shroud made of duvet, which when wrapped securely, acts as a soundproof curtain, thus ensuring that any nearby owls cannot be seen or heard by the wearer. “It’s still in the development stage really”, says Jiff. “You certainly can’t see owls, that’s working perfectly, but it’s still possible to hear them faintly. I need
to work on a way of wrapping the visor in more duvet”.

“Great, just not all the time”

Jiff’s device has attracted the interest of several marketing companies and the Government, but has already courted controversy from the Church. Canon Yule Jeremy believes there is a danger. “The danger I believe there to be is that owls are important creatures that need to be looked at. Their image is important, particularly to the Christmas card industry. If everybody wore Mr. Smithing’s owl-ignoring device, owls would lose an important part of their income. They’d end up having to take on a variety of jobs, many of which may be unsuitable”.

But others have welcomed Jiff Smithing’s idea. Trent Berkley has been an enthusiastic owl watcher for many years, but says sometimes he’d rather not see them.

“I like owls, really enjoy looking at them”, he says. “But every so often I’d just rather not see them, when I’m having a dump for example and don’t want to be put off, so I would cautiously welcome any kind of ignoring device. Providing, of course, that it caused no distress to the owls. I wouldn’t want that”.
Jiff expects to showcase his Owl-Ignorer at the Ideal Home Exhibition in November.

 

News: Demonstration makes Anti Demonstration Demo a Success.

The 2 million protestors this weekend hailed their demonstration a huge success, and were not deterred by the demonstration against their protest by 2 protestors. Government officials, under pressure by the unexpected turnout of people who took to the streets, appear to have caved into the demands and have been said to be taking “fast, direct and necessary action inline with the views of the people”

Demonstrators who”rocked parliaments foundations”

**STOP PRESS**
A new Anti-Demonstration Bill banning demonstrations is being presented to parliament tomorrow

 

News: NHS Chief blast new labour spin

By Anne Thammer

A senior NHS executive launched a damning attack on the Government today when he blasted New Labour ‘spin’.

Conundrum Yardarm, Chief Executive of the NHS’ most senior body of governors, described New Labour spin as “that blasted New Labour spin”. The blasting occurred during a relaxing weekend break with his wife, Boudica, at their Grade II listed manor house outside of Cheltenham. According to an eyewitness, Mr. Yardarm was quietly reading the Telegraph before his customary mid-morning cockfight, when something caught his attention. “I was just coming up to Mr. Yardarm with his morning coffee, when all of a sudden he threw his newspaper down and shouted ‘blast that New Labour spin’ at quite a loud volume”, recalls the Yardarm’s housekeeper, Eve Evesham, 57, from Shrewsbury. “I dropped the coffee on the floor and fled the room; it was just so awful. Fortunately, Mrs. Yardarm was hanging out the cat, so she couldn’t have heard. I’m sure it would have killed her”.

Morning coffee drinking in this
position may also be dangerous

This lamentable blasting from such a senior figure is yet another sign that New Labour’s reliance on spin and fairy-tales has not stopped, despite assurances from party officials that their Big Red Book of B@lls has been flushed down the widdle-hole.