NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE-OR IS THERE?

The bureaucratic imbeciles from Brussels have been at it again.
I have learned that plans are afoot for widespread changes to the British Proverb system, in an attempt to bring us in line with the rest of Europe.

My sources confirm that from January 2010 'A stitch in time' will no longer 'Save you nine' in fact, it could save you as little as 'Six' depending on the exchange rate at the time. Also, instead of 'silver', every cloud will have to make do with a 'stainless steel lining' and a 'Bird in the hand' will be practically worthless.

On the plus side we will be allowed a 'Small amount of smoke without fire' and you'll be able to teach an old dog up to three new tricks.
Euro MP Jean Foreigner told me, "Were merely trying to iron out a few anomalies in the system. Take France for instance. Unlike the British they require at least 'four apples a day to keep the Doctor away' Surely a benchmark figure of two apples throughout the European union is a much fairer system."
Not all proverbs will be affected however. 'One mans meat' will continue to be 'another mans poison', and the public will still be advised to look before they leap.

INCREDIBLE BUT TRUE

A 500lb Woman from Illinois was examined in Hospital. During the examination, an Asthma inhaler fell from under her armpit, a dime was found under on of her breasts, and a remote control was found lodged between the folds of her vulva!

A drunk staggered in to a hospital in Pennsylvania, complaining of severe pain while trying to remove his contact lenses. He said they would come out half way, but they always popped back in. A nurse tried to help using a suction pump, but without success. Finally a doctor examined him and discovered that the man did not have his contact lenses in at all. He had been trying to rip out the membrane of his cornea!

A World war 2 veteran came into a London Clinic with a haemorrhoid problem. One painful pile would often hang down from the poor mans anus, and he was in the habit of pushing it back up with an old artillery shell. On this occasion the shell had got stuck. Doctors were going to remove it but the man told them the shell was still live. So the hospital called in the army bomb disposal squad, who built a lead box around the mans anus to diffuse the shell before it could be removed.

A 20 year old man came into casualty with a stoney mass in his rectum.
He said that he and his boyfriend were fooling around with a concrete mix, when his boyfriend had the idea of pouring the concrete mix into his anus using a funnel. The concrete mix had then hardened, causing constipation and pain. Under general anaesthesia, a perfect concrete cast of the mans rectum was removed, along with a stray ping pong ball!

DR ROWAN WILLIAMS WILL C of E YOU NOW

Dear Doctor

On a recent trip to Ghana, I contracted Necrotising Ebola. It is a particularly aggressive infection, and is working its way up my leg. The Doctors say they can stop it with powerful antibiotics, but I believe that using medicines is interfering with Gods will, and I have decided to pray instead. How should I do it?
Conrad Trellis, Raith

Dr Williams replies

I agree that medicines are interfering with the Lords plan. If he had wanted us to use antibiotics, he would have made them grow on trees to be picked like apples. I recommend that you pray thee times a day after meals. But you must do it properly with your eyes shut. If you dont get any better in a few days, you may need to try more powerful prayor and shut your eyes even tighter.


Dear Doctor

I am a 56 year old, and have been diagnosed with prostate cancer, despite having been a chaste Church goer all my life. I read a recent report which stated that this cancer was less prevalent in men who masturbate regularly from an early age. It seems rather unfair that God should put people such as Cliff Richard and the Pope himself at risk, whilst the likes of Peter Stringfellow and Martin Clunes are rewarded with some measure of protection from this disease.
Harold Steptoe, Pately Bridge


DR Williams Replies

Yes, on the face of it, it may seem unfair, but just consider how much richer your life has been because you have never touched yourself 'under the bridge.'
You may be taken twenty years before your time, but the Lord will Bless you with life everlasting, whereas the the fornicators and onanists will live a life long and full of carnal pleasures, but face an eternity of agony and suffering. So its swings and roundabouts really.

POETIC 'RHYME' WAVE

Angry campaigners are threatening legal action against high street retailers if they refuse to withdraw the latest violent computer game to hit the shelves - Chart topping Playstation smash 'Grand Theft Laureate.'

In the game set in the late 1950's, players take control of vengeful poet laureate, the late Sir John Betjeman, stealing Humber Alpine motor cars and slaughtering innocent bystanders with stout sticks, in a shocking mixture of bloody mayhem and whimsical poetry about changing trends in Post-war British architecture.

Since its release last week, the rhythmic, carnage heavy Playstation 3 hit, has become an obsession for children as young as five, despite its 18 certificate rating.

The object of the game is for the Betjeman character to murder his way around the Home Counties, looking for someone who will draw him a quiet pint of Real Ale, and settle it in an eddying lake of foam on the Oak trestle table of an Ivy wrapped Inn...and then murder them.

Oliff Crackerbarrel, head of Killjoy pressure group 'aSaferUK,' told reporters who weren't really listening to him: "This game is completely disgusting and morally repugnant on every conceivable level."

"I haven't managed to complete level 7 of 'Grand Theft Laureate' so far," he admitted, "but the subject matter is totally inappropriate. If I'm not having to suffocate a prostitute with a left over cream bun, then I'm being forced to fly a helicopter into the belfry of a picturesque English Village Church."

"Kids who are exposed to this level of sustained debauchery and elegiac pining for the lost soul of England will unquestionably be scarred for life."
The company responsible for the making of the game, was unavailable for comment, as their senior management were too busy pissing themselves over the acres of free publicity they had received as a result of the pompous protests.

Despite the manufacturers' flippancy, the games critics insist damage is still being done. Last week a twelve year old child was detained at a school in Blackburn following the attempted stabbing of one of his classmates.
Witnesses say that the boy, John Dibble, who cannot be named for legal reasons, was speaking in four line stanzas at the time, and wildly trying to rhyme 'balustrade' with 'Orange Lucozade.'

THE McNAUGHTY BROTHERS

Bexhill on sea, East Sussex...A quiet respectable seaside town. But during the mid 1960's this was the home to three brothers whose legacy of violence and murder still haunts the residents of the sleepy resort. This is the story of the McNaughty Brothers.

Keith McNaughty was the eldest of the three brothers. In 1963 he realised his lifelong ambition an opened his own butchers shop. Acting against advice from just about everyone, Kieth offered his two younger brothers, Des and Denzil, jobs as shop assistants in his new business.
"Kieth was a great big bloke who worked in a butchers, So everybody called him 'Meat' ..He was a really nice bloke...really, when you got him on his own...but them twins..Oooo!" recalls family friend Wesley 'Basher' Sniper.

McNaughty Quality meats opened for business in May 1963. Kieth had high hopes of founding a successful family enterprise, but within hours of opening Des and Denzil had attacked their first customer. This was only the beginning.....
"Them twins weren't right in the bleedin 'ead..ev'rytime you went in that shop they'd swear at you...Terrible language it was...Just a stream of bleedin abuse...they'd hurl chicken giblets at you...bits of rotten liver, Bacon fat...they beat me up four times, me 'usband said well why don't you shop somewhere else?...but you don't think of these things at the time do ya?" said Ivy 'Customer' Rilley.

"Now Kieth used to pretend it never 'appened...to protect the twins I s'pose....I was in the shop this one time an' Denzil 'ad me down on the floor in a headlock 'an Des was whacking me in the face with this bloody great black puddin'.....'An I could see Kieth lookin' out the shop window pretendin' to wave to someone he knew..." said fat customer Dennis 'Cholesterol' Pike.

"I was working as the family Barrister at the time the Government passed the 'Retail Assault Act' which was designed to protect customers from being attacked by violent shopkeepers...So I visited the shop and said "Look here, calm down a bit or you'll be for it...They hit me over the head with a leg of Mutton and poured Beef dripping into my underpants."...Alan Porrington-Smythe QC.

Almost every week the twins were being charged with various offences ranging from Assault with a Pork Chop or causing Affray with a Liver. The charges rarely stuck....

"The Police? Ha Do me a Favour!...they was as scared of 'em as we all were!....You did anyfing to upset 'em brothers one day, and you knew the next day there'd be a load of fly infested offal through you letterbox....I'm sorry I'm going to have to stop..sniff." said another customer Ron 'Da Do Ron Ron Ron' Willis.

However in June 1963 the twins' luck changed when Elsbeth Shingle visited the shop to buy some Brisket....To Be Continued..

A BRIDGE TOO FAR

It has been revealed that Michael Jackson was planning on buying a bridge in Scotland, but lawyers blocked the recently deceased King of Pops plans to sit under it and ask "Who goes there."
Jacko, had always wanted to be a Troll, and just weeks before his untimely death, the star had issued his estate agents with a 'Find me a bridge to live under' ultimatum.
Within days they had located the ideal bridge over a disused railway line in Scotland. Pictures of the stone bridge were sent back to Jacko, where he was said to have 'Fell in love' with it at first sight.

However, lawyers were said to have torpedoed the deal by refusing Jackson the right to stop Billy goats as they crossed the bridge in order to ask them "Who goes there?"
Wallace McSpoons of leading Edinburgh law firm McSpoons, Crawford and Oatcake explained that a covenant on the bridge dating back over a hundred years allows Farmers unhindered access to an adjoining field.

"Even though the bridge had been out of use for several years, a legal right of way remained, and any purchaser would have to comply with that should the owner of the adjoining field wish to cross the bridge at sometime in the future."

A spokesman for Jacksons legal team is said to have denied the singer had any intention of stopping people from using the bridge.
"Its ludicrous, Trolls do not stop people from crossing a bridge. They merely enquire 'who goes there?' Its a traditional thing, and as the owner of the bridge, Michael should have been able to do that."

Mr McSpoons said the owners legal requirements were quite clear, and that behaving like a Troll would have constituted a breach of contract.
"If a new owner were to sit beneath the bridge and ask people "Who goes there," that enquiry would have in itself constituted a form of hindrance, regardless of whether or not Mr Jackson subsequently had allowed them to cross."

Following the legal wrangling, Mr Jackson is said to have lost interest in bridges, and had turned his attention to mainland Europe, where it was rumoured he was looking at Windmills in Old Amsterdam, where he had hoped to bring up his Children in a 'Windmill environment,' dressed as mice wearing clogs!

Tupperware Viking

The quest for the dream holiday for lovers of practical, stylish and economical kitchen storage ends aboard the Tupperware Viking.
As you enter the twilight of your life, Twilight Years Cruise Co, present a once in a life time golden opportunity to sail on that luxury cruise you've always dreamed of, we invite you to shuffle aboard our magnificently converted Oil tanker for her maiden voyage around the Thames Estuary, whilst discovering new Worlds of Tupperware.

Your holiday begins at Hull docks, where you will be given a cup of tea, and a nice sit down. The staff and crew of the Tupperware Viking will be there to help you with the stairs when its time to board the floating three star hotel that is to be your home for the next two weeks.
You'll feel instantly at home in your cosy, windowless cabin, thoughtfully ensconced deep in the converted hull, close to the warmth and comforting drone of the engine room.

Time has little meaning aboard the Tupperware Viking. Your days are your own, whether you choose to spend them in one of the ships many themed tea rooms, or simply relaxing under a tarpaulin on the sleet deck, drinking in the magnificent vistas of the North sea. The ship has been specially designed with the mature passenger in mind. For instance, no matter where you are on board, you're never more than 50 metres away from a lavatory.
There is even a coroner on board to ensure that the death of a loved one, need not mean the end of your holiday. Burials at sea can be arranged with an absolute minimum of fuss and paperwork.

Each new dawn will bring a myriad of exciting tupperware activities to chose from. The ships tupperware shop is open 24 hours a day for the sale of your modular freezer-safe plastic requirements, at rock bottom prices. There's also a convenient trolley service, allowing you to buy tupperware in the comfort of your own cabin.

Book now before you die and fill in the coupon, enclosing £15,995.00.

Radical New Proposal

Currently people on the sex offenders register are either kept in prison where they can be safely killed by fellow inmates or released into the community to have dog excrement pushed through their letterbox and their houses burnt down while they are battered by cab-drivers. But fears about the safety and effectiveness of these two options have led Government boffins to seek new ways of dealing with the problem.

"Nobody wants these people living next door," consultant criminologist Dr Timothy Toothpick told me. "It makes people antsy and cross. But we have to deal with these undesirables somehow, they are nuclear waste. We want to hide them away and forget about them, but no-one wants them disposed of in their backyard. That's why we decided to goto the experts, BNFL."

British Nuclear Fuels Ltd say that the commission from the Home Office came as a surprise, but they are convinced they can rise to the challenge.
"We have years of experience in handling dangerous things the public would rather pretend didn't exist. Its just a matter of switching from radioactive fissile and waste material, to men with milk bottle glasses who live with their Mothers."

BNFL estimate that they will be able to transport up to four thousand gallons of nonces a day by rail in secure containers direct from the courtroom to processing stations on the World's coast, where they will be pumped into the sea.

But residents of Town's along the rail route are furious about the proposals.
"What happens if the driver of the train gets some egg sandwich in his eye and drives the engine into a signal box?" complained campaigner Cramphorn Campayne at a champagne reception to launch the residents protest.

"If that happens, the train will roll over and spill dangerous sex-pests all over the embankment. Anyone playing near the railway will be at risk from having their bottom touched or being invited to see puppies."
Accidents do happen.

FICTIONALISED UNION GONK RAMS FINGER OF SUSPICION AT PM BROWN'S FACIAL PARTS

Fast greying Prime Minister Gordon Brown, stands accused of outright traitorism - by an angry trade union kingpin of advanced years and immense body-weight.

Ted Mug, 87, Veteran President of the 'National Union of Unaffiliated Gaffers Associates and Handlers (or NUUGAAH, pronounced like the top deck of a Mars bar) spewed his blast last Friday from a beige Mini parked along side his Suffolk bungalow.
Mug, still 87, yesterday repeated his stance, and went further, adding the word 'bastard' to it, while jumping up and down on his lounge carpet.

Poised in mid-air he said: "I first suspected the whiff of betrayal when I heard that Brown had bust his tits to help an offshore foreign business-leech scoop up the Rumanian steel game."
Mr Mug now 88, produced a wax sculpture of Limitriali Mittalski, the Globally tax-free tycoon whose US branch shelled out dosh by the bin load in a successful bid to persuade then US President George 'Special needs' Bush, to help screw what remained of Britain's tired steel industry into the mire.
"Were there no UK businesses capable of nabbing into this plumptious opportunity?
"You remember, the sort who pay tax and create jobs in THIS Country. The sort entitled to expect the Prime Minister to beaver away on their behalf?"
At that moment there was a knock at the door, followed by a batter at the door, then finally the sound of the door being smashed off its hinges. Seconds later four burly coppers loomed largely into the lounge and pinned Mug to the wall.

After ten minutes this pinning became impossible to maintain, owing mainly to the Union mans blobulous 35 stone frame, so they changed tack and pinned him to the floor instead.
Gasping for air under the coppers' combined weight, and now suddenly 93, Mug resumed his controversial spout.
"The final straw came when I heard he'd spent ten hours on bent knee begging the Belgian Government o allow Siggy Siggmundsiggyson, the Danish Teapot King to take over their National Teapot industry."
Siggmundsiggyson, who last year paid a single Penny in tax on an income larger than South America's, wears an affro hair-do and a beard that defies logic.
At this point the men flattening Mug advised him that if he were to continue his rant, they would be obliged to give him a full body massage with their night sticks. Mug, however, who appeared to be dying, could not be stopped.
He spluttered: "This is a man who, only two months ago torched the last Teapot factory in the Highlands."

It seemed inevitable that Mug was set to explain how this blaze had claimed some 232 jobs, costing 3,789 Teapots, and ended approximately 1400 lives (plus Kilts), but before he could do so the meaty Pigs began whopping him with unfettered joy.
On average he aged two years with each thump, and by the time they had finished their stick work, he had aged enough to remember a time when the Pyramids were just Pyramints, and Attila the Hun, was just plain old Attila the Huggies-filler.
Not that he was in any state to start reminiscing. In fact, all he could manage was a soft burble.
A brown flower bloomed on the seat of his jogging pants...The follow through of Death. Mugs career as well as his life was over.

Prime Minister Brown was quick to dismiss Mug's accusations of traitorisation, as the ramblings of a dying Communist. In fact, from his body language at the press conference (hand stands) it was clear he no longer gave a flying fuck what any body really thought anymore.

Tabloid Culture

A couple who's new baby was snatched from a Hospital maternity unit by a Woman posing as a nurse, faced an agonising wait whilst the search for a Newspaper willing to pay for their story continued.

Ruby Cretin, 35, had given birth to daughter, Petal, just eight hours before she was taken. Max Clifford was alerted when the baby's Father Stephen, 36, found her cot empty..

Their nightmare began about an hour after the snatch when Mr Clifford informed them that immediate negotiations with papers in the local area had drawn a blank.

He expressed his fears that the search for the tabloid may have to be extended to the rest of the Country.
At an emotional press conference this morning, Stephen Cretin appealed for help.
"This is a complete nightmare" he said, "My heart goes out to anyone who has ever tried to sell a story to the papers."
Fighting back tears he added "I appeal to the Editor who wants our story, whoever you are, Please, Please give us the money now!"

BRITAIN'S DRINKING CULTURE

No one knows exactly when Special Brew was discovered, but archaeologists believe that its miraculous qualities were well known to man well over 4 million years ago. Primitive paintings found in caves in Denmark suggest that Bronze age artists were regularly ripped to their hairy tits on Special Brew.

The Ancient Egyptians worshiped Special Brew, believing it to have supernatural properties. When Howard Carter broke into the Tombs of Ahmenhotep 111, and ransacked his sarcophagus, he found the boy king, buried along with all his possessions. Amongst them were half an ounce of baccy, some rolling papers, and four mummified tins of Special Brew to keep him incoherent and aggressive in the afterlife.

The Romans identified Special Brew's property for starting fights and put it to good use in the Colosseum. Gladiators would be plied with 'Spesh' before a battle to ensure they put on a good show for the blood thirsty crowd. After a fight the surviving Gladiators would sacrifice a goat to 'Trampicus', the Roman God of unusual mental states.

British history would have taken a very different course had it not been for Special Brew. On November 5th 1066, Guy Fawkes and his fellow conspirators, crept into the cellars of the Houses of Parliament, intending to blow up King James 1st with some fireworks. However they discovered a crate of Special Brew and stopped for refreshment. After four tins each, they decided that the King was actually a smashing bloke, and their best mate, and the plot was off.

The Lady of the Lamp, Florence Nightingale, saved countless lives during the Crimean War. As a token of his gratitude, the Prime Minister, Mr Gladstone awarded her a lifetime supply of 'Spesh' and granted her the keys to Hyde Park, so that she could have a well deserved sit down. Over the next 50 years, she became a well known figure, entertaining Children with her colourful language, explicit gestures and frequent bouts of vomiting.

And so to the present day, where this remarkable drink, with its unequalled capacity to make your head go funny is still enjoyed by everyone. From her Majesty the Queen, right down to the lowest Tramp, all agree there is only one way to start the day. Thats by shotgunning a couple of tins of Special Brew...The drink that has truly made Britain what it is Today.