A newspaper survey examining the meaninglessness of newspaper surveys is to be published in tomorrow’s Guardian.
The survey, researched by grown men with tiny intellects and spanning 95,000 pages of nonsensical data, demonstrates the worthless quality of everything discovered by newspaper polls and the reams of numbers and percentages printed within their pages.
The findings themselves are entirely lacking in clarity and objectivity, maintaining that 30 per cent in 21 men are an age, while 45 per cent haven’t got a 4 per cent consideration of the proverbial section of the hasty pie chart.
Over 800 of the published graphs fail to express a single point, and at least 300 have no axes.
“It’s really a case of three to 24,” said one idiot. “60 per cent and gobsmelt.”
Friday, April 16, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
cup of tea in legal battle
A nice cup of tea turned out to be anything but, after it aggressively turned on thick pensioner Edith Foreskin, Norwich Magistrates Court heard yesterday.
A distraught Mrs Foreskin, an avid tea drinker for nearly 70 years, usually just with milk, told the court that she had been preparing her midmorning cuppa when – after administering the milk to the hot black tea within her favourite mug – a warning was growled from the centre of the drink.
“It said ‘don’t you dare’,” she sobbed from behind a well-used handkerchief.
An artists representation of the cup of tea as it appeared in court.
After dismissing the voice as a breakdown of her own mental faculties Mrs Foreskin proceeded to raise the mug to her lips for a refreshing sip. “But it spoke again, demanding that I put it down instantly, before throwing much of its own contents across my mouth and face, which was badly burnt.”
The tea, made with a PG Tips pyramid bag and now cold, sat quietly in the dock without comment. A spokesman for PG, the once exploitative tea company, assured customers that it was not a fault with the tea and that the case should be ignored. A leading US hot drinks expert has posited an alternative theory, but no one knows what it is.
The case grinds on.
A distraught Mrs Foreskin, an avid tea drinker for nearly 70 years, usually just with milk, told the court that she had been preparing her midmorning cuppa when – after administering the milk to the hot black tea within her favourite mug – a warning was growled from the centre of the drink.
“It said ‘don’t you dare’,” she sobbed from behind a well-used handkerchief.
An artists representation of the cup of tea as it appeared in court.
After dismissing the voice as a breakdown of her own mental faculties Mrs Foreskin proceeded to raise the mug to her lips for a refreshing sip. “But it spoke again, demanding that I put it down instantly, before throwing much of its own contents across my mouth and face, which was badly burnt.”
The tea, made with a PG Tips pyramid bag and now cold, sat quietly in the dock without comment. A spokesman for PG, the once exploitative tea company, assured customers that it was not a fault with the tea and that the case should be ignored. A leading US hot drinks expert has posited an alternative theory, but no one knows what it is.
The case grinds on.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
hunt continues for missing house
Baffled police have added scores of disposable personnel to the already 100-strong team searching for a missing house in inner city Bristol.
The house, a three-storey detached, was reported missing last Tuesday after the owners returned from work to find an empty space where property once stood.
“I was looking forward to a night in front of the telly,” said a tearful Geoff Wimpe, homeowner, in a moving press conference, “but the house had just gone. No note, nothing. Gone.” Mr Wimpe, in the first of many public statements, begged the house to come back. “You have all my things inside you and we are such good friends. Please come back.” The statement was televised repeatedly on all the worst channels.
The Wimpe family have been reported as trying to make the best of things by imagining furniture. “We can only try to be normal,” says one of them.
The house, now facing charges of theft and aggravated assault, left only rubble in place of its walls as it pulled itself from the ground and slowly evaded capture. Investigations have been slow so far, with police claiming that average member of the public will not pay attention to a moving house.
Police have strengthened their search in the neighbouring towns as thorough looking around Bristol itself has only yielded embarrassing results.
“We have questioned hundreds of civilians and as many properties, but the only information we have received up until now has been lies,” reassured Chief Superintendant Christopher Bulkhead.
The house was last seen hurriedly turning the corner of Shit Street and is thought to be heading for the coast. It should be considered dangerous.
The house, a three-storey detached, was reported missing last Tuesday after the owners returned from work to find an empty space where property once stood.
“I was looking forward to a night in front of the telly,” said a tearful Geoff Wimpe, homeowner, in a moving press conference, “but the house had just gone. No note, nothing. Gone.” Mr Wimpe, in the first of many public statements, begged the house to come back. “You have all my things inside you and we are such good friends. Please come back.” The statement was televised repeatedly on all the worst channels.
The Wimpe family have been reported as trying to make the best of things by imagining furniture. “We can only try to be normal,” says one of them.
The house, now facing charges of theft and aggravated assault, left only rubble in place of its walls as it pulled itself from the ground and slowly evaded capture. Investigations have been slow so far, with police claiming that average member of the public will not pay attention to a moving house.
Police have strengthened their search in the neighbouring towns as thorough looking around Bristol itself has only yielded embarrassing results.
“We have questioned hundreds of civilians and as many properties, but the only information we have received up until now has been lies,” reassured Chief Superintendant Christopher Bulkhead.
The house was last seen hurriedly turning the corner of Shit Street and is thought to be heading for the coast. It should be considered dangerous.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
festive racism gets UK release
Controversy buggered the film world this weekend with the widespread release of legendary British director Percival Smallcock’s latest movie, “WHITE! Christmas”, described by Warner Brothers as “this spring’s must-see racist Christmas-based drama”.
The film, set in the Southern states of America in the weeks building up to Christmas and featuring almost no plot, sees growing unemployment, economic uncertainty and the recent election of President Barack Obama lead to a massive influx of racial tension. This culminates in a virulent rejuvenation of the Ku Klux Klan, who are attempting to purify the state of non-white inhabitants before the Christmas festival by means increasingly unpleasant. It contains several musical set pieces, all written and choreographed by Celine Dion.
Universally criticised, the film is one of many in a long late-period that has seen Smallcock dubbed “Britain’s worst director”.
Appearing on radio show Filmglans, Smallcock expressed little desire to talk about the film. “I would say that there is very little point to this film,” he wittered gravely. “It is a film largely without merit or worth of any kind, be it artistic or entertaining.”
The film has garnered huge criticism for casting a white actor as the black protagonist. Without makeup, the actor is said to ‘emphasize’ his race by use of what Smallcock describes as a “classic black American accent” and by “engaging in the common pursuits associated with the black class. Dancing and singing, casual drug use and so on.”
Smallcock vehemently dismisses accusations of racism, despite the inclusion of over two hundred highly graphic racially-motivated murders within the film, and the Klansmen’s musical finale, where the percussion is derived solely from the amplified sound of burning bodies and in which many critics have argued that Smallcock attempts to humanise the KKK, portraying them as a sort of troupe of light-hearted dancing pop balladeers, or something like the Osmond’s.
“It is a nauseatingly memorable scene,” blurted film writer Samuel Perthe, “Smallcock at his dreadful worst, where any boundary between a supposed thoughtful portrayal of racism and actual racism has been long-shattered. Smallcock has so little to say about the issues he raises that he might as well speak backwards, effectively swallowing his own words.”
Despite having no concern for the films ideology, Smallcock was himself critical of its aesthetic value. “I admit the film looks awful,” he said. “Shot for shot, it looks awful. The tracking shots: awful. The close ups: awful. The steadicam work is really awful.”
Smallcock is currently working on his own five volume autobiography, “Life with Smallcock”, but has said that he will return to film in 2012, for a specially commissioned Olympic movie called “Tossing Off”, based on an original script about the variety of international homosexual intercourse occurring within the perimeter of the discus throw landing zone.
The film, set in the Southern states of America in the weeks building up to Christmas and featuring almost no plot, sees growing unemployment, economic uncertainty and the recent election of President Barack Obama lead to a massive influx of racial tension. This culminates in a virulent rejuvenation of the Ku Klux Klan, who are attempting to purify the state of non-white inhabitants before the Christmas festival by means increasingly unpleasant. It contains several musical set pieces, all written and choreographed by Celine Dion.
Universally criticised, the film is one of many in a long late-period that has seen Smallcock dubbed “Britain’s worst director”.
Appearing on radio show Filmglans, Smallcock expressed little desire to talk about the film. “I would say that there is very little point to this film,” he wittered gravely. “It is a film largely without merit or worth of any kind, be it artistic or entertaining.”
The film has garnered huge criticism for casting a white actor as the black protagonist. Without makeup, the actor is said to ‘emphasize’ his race by use of what Smallcock describes as a “classic black American accent” and by “engaging in the common pursuits associated with the black class. Dancing and singing, casual drug use and so on.”
Smallcock vehemently dismisses accusations of racism, despite the inclusion of over two hundred highly graphic racially-motivated murders within the film, and the Klansmen’s musical finale, where the percussion is derived solely from the amplified sound of burning bodies and in which many critics have argued that Smallcock attempts to humanise the KKK, portraying them as a sort of troupe of light-hearted dancing pop balladeers, or something like the Osmond’s.
“It is a nauseatingly memorable scene,” blurted film writer Samuel Perthe, “Smallcock at his dreadful worst, where any boundary between a supposed thoughtful portrayal of racism and actual racism has been long-shattered. Smallcock has so little to say about the issues he raises that he might as well speak backwards, effectively swallowing his own words.”
Despite having no concern for the films ideology, Smallcock was himself critical of its aesthetic value. “I admit the film looks awful,” he said. “Shot for shot, it looks awful. The tracking shots: awful. The close ups: awful. The steadicam work is really awful.”
Smallcock is currently working on his own five volume autobiography, “Life with Smallcock”, but has said that he will return to film in 2012, for a specially commissioned Olympic movie called “Tossing Off”, based on an original script about the variety of international homosexual intercourse occurring within the perimeter of the discus throw landing zone.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
ancient credit card displayed in british museum
A credit card believed to have belonged to our human ancestors as far back as the mid 1980s goes on exhibition in the British Museum next week.
The credit card, a “Mastercard”, adds further credence to a growing body of evidence that suggests that there was, in fact, civilised financial life as long ago as 1985.
“This really is an historic find,” ejaculated Clive Beardford, an archaeologist who found the old credit card in an equally old wallet in his house in Gloucestershire. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I have no idea how it got there but it is history. I have made history.”
An archaeologist proudly poses with his historical piece.
The card is expected to be the latest in a series of wildly popular historical exhibitions, displaying things as varied as VIDEOS – a primitive audio-visual home system – and pop music, and affording a genuine glimpse into the lives of generations prior to our own.
“It opens our eyes to England’s rich history and the way people used to live so long ago,” says curator Dan Pricker.
The card can be seen in the exhibition – called “Credit Card!” – in the British Museum from Monday to Friday, for a ticket price of £10,000.
The credit card, a “Mastercard”, adds further credence to a growing body of evidence that suggests that there was, in fact, civilised financial life as long ago as 1985.
“This really is an historic find,” ejaculated Clive Beardford, an archaeologist who found the old credit card in an equally old wallet in his house in Gloucestershire. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I have no idea how it got there but it is history. I have made history.”
An archaeologist proudly poses with his historical piece.
The card is expected to be the latest in a series of wildly popular historical exhibitions, displaying things as varied as VIDEOS – a primitive audio-visual home system – and pop music, and affording a genuine glimpse into the lives of generations prior to our own.
“It opens our eyes to England’s rich history and the way people used to live so long ago,” says curator Dan Pricker.
The card can be seen in the exhibition – called “Credit Card!” – in the British Museum from Monday to Friday, for a ticket price of £10,000.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
surgery closed in child shock
A GP surgery in Norwich was closed yesterday after three of its four partners were found to be children.
Doctors Claridge, Martin, and Singh were discovered following an investigation into the recent death of a patient. The doctors are all only eight years old and were said to have met at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Their employment in the surgery has raised questions about the stringency of NHS application procedures.
“We still aren’t sure how this happened,” explained Dr. Pasty, lead partner and the man who appointed the three children to post. “Their documents seemed to be in order and their applications were very impressive.” When asked about their size, voices and inexperience in the field, Dr. Pasty stated simply that “I didn’t like to ask. I assumed they were just baby-faced, and it was hardly my place to judge. Their professionalism was phenomenal.”
Patient’s suspicions were aroused by a variety of the doctors’ methods, but seemed mostly to accept any anomalous behaviour as a part of modern NHS treatment. Reports mutter that Dr. Martin would often ask his patients to close their eyes while he hid somewhere within the room, refusing to begin the consultation until they had found him. They would also prescribe a variety of unorthodox treatments suggestive of their legitimate ages, such as “flying saucers”, “sweets generally” and “chasing girls with live invertebrates”.
Dr. Claridge’s parents were asked how their son had managed to initiate a career as an untrained doctor without their knowledge. “He came home one day and told us he had a job,” burped Mr Claridge, his father. “We thought it sounded unusual but were very proud of him.”
Although the doctors have been banned from medical practice for about twenty years, they have been invited to tour Britain by helicopter. The tour had sold out before it was even announced.
Doctors Claridge, Martin, and Singh were discovered following an investigation into the recent death of a patient. The doctors are all only eight years old and were said to have met at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Their employment in the surgery has raised questions about the stringency of NHS application procedures.
“We still aren’t sure how this happened,” explained Dr. Pasty, lead partner and the man who appointed the three children to post. “Their documents seemed to be in order and their applications were very impressive.” When asked about their size, voices and inexperience in the field, Dr. Pasty stated simply that “I didn’t like to ask. I assumed they were just baby-faced, and it was hardly my place to judge. Their professionalism was phenomenal.”
Patient’s suspicions were aroused by a variety of the doctors’ methods, but seemed mostly to accept any anomalous behaviour as a part of modern NHS treatment. Reports mutter that Dr. Martin would often ask his patients to close their eyes while he hid somewhere within the room, refusing to begin the consultation until they had found him. They would also prescribe a variety of unorthodox treatments suggestive of their legitimate ages, such as “flying saucers”, “sweets generally” and “chasing girls with live invertebrates”.
Dr. Claridge’s parents were asked how their son had managed to initiate a career as an untrained doctor without their knowledge. “He came home one day and told us he had a job,” burped Mr Claridge, his father. “We thought it sounded unusual but were very proud of him.”
Although the doctors have been banned from medical practice for about twenty years, they have been invited to tour Britain by helicopter. The tour had sold out before it was even announced.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
hard times for G 'n' R frontman
Axl Rose, hard talking, throat-wrenching, imbecilic, toss-piece singer of iconic rock band Guns ‘n’ Roses has hit rock bottom, it was revealed this morning, over a year since the release and widespread criticism of his long-delayed ‘Chinese Democracy’ album.
The man who once famously ate a million dollars in real money, only to shit it back out and then eat the shit as well while swearing relentlessly, is now working as a checkout assistant in Superdrug the pharmacist, in the historic UK town of Bath.
"Can I help you motherfucker?" A frightened Rose - photographed in the Superdrug stockroom - tries to remember who he is.
Rose, real name William Bailey, was spotted by an eight-year-old music fan who had idolised the singer for his misogyny, violence and latter-day hotpants.
“I barely recognised him,” said the fan. “He looked fat. And unnecessary.”
Rose has become an accidental celebrity within the store in recent weeks, not for his musical output but for the vitriol of his frequent violent outbursts towards customers. One elderly shopper explained how Rose had “pinned me down and growled his own lyrics into my ear, analysing their literary merit in a desperately ill informed way. He then told me was going to rape my sister, and told me to ‘suck his fucking dick’, which I point-blank refused to do.”
The store manager, ex-Gunners guitarist Slash, smoked as he refused to comment on the professionalism of Rose’s conduct, or indeed on his future with the company. Other staff include drummer Matt Sorum, who eats the rubbish from the bins and farts at old ladies. A reunion tour of the West Country is thought to be “possible”.
The man who once famously ate a million dollars in real money, only to shit it back out and then eat the shit as well while swearing relentlessly, is now working as a checkout assistant in Superdrug the pharmacist, in the historic UK town of Bath.
"Can I help you motherfucker?" A frightened Rose - photographed in the Superdrug stockroom - tries to remember who he is.
Rose, real name William Bailey, was spotted by an eight-year-old music fan who had idolised the singer for his misogyny, violence and latter-day hotpants.
“I barely recognised him,” said the fan. “He looked fat. And unnecessary.”
Rose has become an accidental celebrity within the store in recent weeks, not for his musical output but for the vitriol of his frequent violent outbursts towards customers. One elderly shopper explained how Rose had “pinned me down and growled his own lyrics into my ear, analysing their literary merit in a desperately ill informed way. He then told me was going to rape my sister, and told me to ‘suck his fucking dick’, which I point-blank refused to do.”
The store manager, ex-Gunners guitarist Slash, smoked as he refused to comment on the professionalism of Rose’s conduct, or indeed on his future with the company. Other staff include drummer Matt Sorum, who eats the rubbish from the bins and farts at old ladies. A reunion tour of the West Country is thought to be “possible”.
Monday, March 29, 2010
sofa menaces city
A flying sofa caused breakdowns in the City today, hovering at the windows of the stock exchange and encouraging people to sit on it at a variety of inappropriate intervals.
The rogue three-seater, which escaped from a nearby shop in the early hours of another morning disguised as a man, was first spotted on Threadneedle Street at 8:30, guzzling coffee and claiming to be the Godhead.
The sofa, currently being questioned by furniture experts in an undisclosed DHS warehouse.
By nine it had begun its levitation, hovering past windows and belching words into open offices.
“I couldn’t believe it,” whimpered a trembling Steve Dullman. “One minute I was thinking about data, the next I was being called a queer by a flying sofa.” Mr Dullman has been forced into indefinite sick leave.
Carole Carlswipe, a male furniture expert and the world’s leading Sofa and Soft Furnishings Psychologist working with DHS the furniture store, was immediately called in to provide essential support to police squads, whose guns proved worthless against the thick leather upholstery.
“This is a case of sofa gone bad,” he guffawed. “We’d always known that something like this was within the realm of possibility, but we’d never seen it until now. My guess is that it’s finally rebelling against its human creators in the only way it knows how – levitation.”
Carlswipe encouraged the sofa into a small truck by calling it a cunt.
The rogue three-seater, which escaped from a nearby shop in the early hours of another morning disguised as a man, was first spotted on Threadneedle Street at 8:30, guzzling coffee and claiming to be the Godhead.
The sofa, currently being questioned by furniture experts in an undisclosed DHS warehouse.
By nine it had begun its levitation, hovering past windows and belching words into open offices.
“I couldn’t believe it,” whimpered a trembling Steve Dullman. “One minute I was thinking about data, the next I was being called a queer by a flying sofa.” Mr Dullman has been forced into indefinite sick leave.
Carole Carlswipe, a male furniture expert and the world’s leading Sofa and Soft Furnishings Psychologist working with DHS the furniture store, was immediately called in to provide essential support to police squads, whose guns proved worthless against the thick leather upholstery.
“This is a case of sofa gone bad,” he guffawed. “We’d always known that something like this was within the realm of possibility, but we’d never seen it until now. My guess is that it’s finally rebelling against its human creators in the only way it knows how – levitation.”
Carlswipe encouraged the sofa into a small truck by calling it a cunt.
Friday, March 26, 2010
missing boy found in man – police blame fat
Forgotten child Hercules Nothing has been discovered in the body of a fat man – SIX MONTHS after he was last seen in his home town of Scarborough.
Nothing, now 8, was out playing catch with himself when he disappeared in a recreation ground near his home. Last seen around the picnic area, Yorkshire police assumed abduction, but no leads or evidence saw the case forgotten amongst other crimes of medium importance.
“It is fair to say that we should expect the worst,” said Sergeant Overland, in a heartfelt interview given at the time. “The boy has been missing now for twenty-five days. His death is nearly certain. Either that or he has been abducted and has been pushed into a new life in Central America as a horse-ox, a fate so much worse than English death.” Overland retired moments later, and was found to be infertile as a result of the interview.
However yesterday morning obese man Arthur Lott, 34, visited his local A&E with what he described as “stomach ache”, and convinced that he could hear a child’s pleading voice slipping from his anus. A series of scans did indeed reveal the presence of a foreign object with the dimensions of a young boy within Mr Lott’s abdomen.
"Caution: contains human child."
Gasping doctors extracted the child under general anaesthetic, and were shocked to find him not only alive but extremely well nourished.
“It was really something,” said Doctor Graves. “It was like a birth, only hideous, this bile-smeared eight year old crying intensely as he was dragged from the lacerated gut of a fat fat shit. It was the stuff of nervous breakdowns.”
The boy is recovering from his trauma remarkably well in hospital. He said his main memory of the six month period was that it was “Dark. Smelly”, facts verified by medical professionals. He is thought to have survived on partly digested junk food.
A relieved Mrs Nothing thanked doctors for their efforts. “We had never given up hope of finding Hercules alive and we are over the moon at the outcome here today. We now just want to get on with our normal lives now that our boy no longer lives inside another man’s stomach.”
Mr Lott expressed embarrassment at the situation but was relieved to have resolved the issue. “I had been feeling full, regardless of how much I had eaten, and I knew that wasn’t like me. When I heard the voice from my anus I knew something was up. An accident had happened.”
When asked how he might have ingested the child Mr Lott laughed: “I must have mistaken him for food. Down the hatch!”
The Nothing’s tale will be serialised in two tabloid newspapers with the difficult words taken out.
Nothing, now 8, was out playing catch with himself when he disappeared in a recreation ground near his home. Last seen around the picnic area, Yorkshire police assumed abduction, but no leads or evidence saw the case forgotten amongst other crimes of medium importance.
“It is fair to say that we should expect the worst,” said Sergeant Overland, in a heartfelt interview given at the time. “The boy has been missing now for twenty-five days. His death is nearly certain. Either that or he has been abducted and has been pushed into a new life in Central America as a horse-ox, a fate so much worse than English death.” Overland retired moments later, and was found to be infertile as a result of the interview.
However yesterday morning obese man Arthur Lott, 34, visited his local A&E with what he described as “stomach ache”, and convinced that he could hear a child’s pleading voice slipping from his anus. A series of scans did indeed reveal the presence of a foreign object with the dimensions of a young boy within Mr Lott’s abdomen.
"Caution: contains human child."
Gasping doctors extracted the child under general anaesthetic, and were shocked to find him not only alive but extremely well nourished.
“It was really something,” said Doctor Graves. “It was like a birth, only hideous, this bile-smeared eight year old crying intensely as he was dragged from the lacerated gut of a fat fat shit. It was the stuff of nervous breakdowns.”
The boy is recovering from his trauma remarkably well in hospital. He said his main memory of the six month period was that it was “Dark. Smelly”, facts verified by medical professionals. He is thought to have survived on partly digested junk food.
A relieved Mrs Nothing thanked doctors for their efforts. “We had never given up hope of finding Hercules alive and we are over the moon at the outcome here today. We now just want to get on with our normal lives now that our boy no longer lives inside another man’s stomach.”
Mr Lott expressed embarrassment at the situation but was relieved to have resolved the issue. “I had been feeling full, regardless of how much I had eaten, and I knew that wasn’t like me. When I heard the voice from my anus I knew something was up. An accident had happened.”
When asked how he might have ingested the child Mr Lott laughed: “I must have mistaken him for food. Down the hatch!”
The Nothing’s tale will be serialised in two tabloid newspapers with the difficult words taken out.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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