Breaking News: Shock waves and condemnation from around the globe as news breaks of atheist Sue Dan getting ‘stoned’ just weeks after giving birth to baby ‘Moonbeam’ her child by husband, agnostic Nige Eira!

When interviewed hubby Nige commented, “I think it’s disgusting she got stoned just weeks after the birth. In my opinion she could have gotten stoned much earlier as I would be more likely to have gotten my leg across.”



“Crumbs Juniper there’s a God awful pong about the lounge this morning. I’m guessing you’ve been on the pulses once more?”

“Yes Denzel darling I did venture toward the curried red lentil savouries at Marigold’s little soirée in aid of the impoverished earwig herders of Cumbria last evening. Rather overdid it I think.”

“You certainly did my dear for I could cut the atmosphere with a meat cleaver I can tell you. Odd though for there is no audible evidence of your bottom burps even though you must be slipping them out aplenty.”

“I’d rather you didn’t use the word ‘meat’ in my company Denzel for you know how it upsets me.”

“Sorry Juniper it just slipped out – not unlike your little acid rain makers.”

“Well at least I’ll never contract bowel cancer.”

“Anyway Darling what have we for dinner this evening?”

“Oh I’ll knock up a fusion of haricot, black-eyed and kidney beans – organic of course – with rustic wholemeal bread and a baby leaf spinach salad I think.”

“Really, are you sure? I mean we’ve been living on pulses as a staple diet for so long now I do fancy eating something that doesn’t cause me to blast the old arse trumpet all the time. Indeed I’d go so far to say that a diet high in complex carbs is playing havoc with my a-piece. My boss at the perfumery says he’s losing trade what with my constant fizzlers. I believe my access to gainful employment is under threat you know.”

“Well as a committed vegan there are so few sources of protein containing adequate roughage you must realize. It is a small price to pay for health and the protection of animals. Anyway shall we make love before I set to prepare our meal – you know there is nothing like sex to work up a jolly good appetite?”

“Well I’m up for that Juniper but can you promise not to pop a fluffy in my face like last time. I had to gargle with anti-bacterial mouthwash for hours to rid the taste from my tongue you know.”

“You can talk Denzel for your own thunder sprays really are not something to write home about you know. Whatever – meet you in the boudoir in five?”

“Five what? I pray to Mother Earth you do not mean five rectal tremors?”

“Might have done.”




“I say Carruthers you do look all of a muddle this morning. Penny for your thoughts old chum.”

“Oh it’s nothing much – just something Deirdre said last evening.”

“What was that then?”

“Well there we were over dinner, me as happy as a sand boy chatting on about this and that when Deirdre, quite out of the blue said, ‘as if I care.’ Understandably, the seemingly random mention of the name of a chappie from our former Indian sub-continent territories confused me somewhat. So I asked of her who this ‘Asif Icare’ was and exactly why his name had come up in conversation.”

“With that she sighed, the very deepest of sighs, put on her sad face and told me she had had enough; that she could take no more of my indifference toward her, told me I was an abject bore, called me the c-word and added that she was leaving me once and for all.”

“Leaving you for this Asif bloke is she?”

“Seems so my friend; seems so.”

“Well what a to-do. What will you do? Hunt this Lothario down and teach him some manners? That’s what I’d do you know – well actually I’d pay for a ruffian to carry out the act on my behalf but you know what I mean.”

“Maybe. I mean I’ve checked the local telephone directory and there is an Asif Icare in the village. The thing is he’s a hundred if he’s a day. His family run the ‘open all hours’ corner shop all the plebs use I am given to understand – a very popular man they say. I’d have an angry mob on my back if I gave him the good hiding he deserves.”

“Where is Deirdre now then?”

“Buggered orf with just the one suitcase and took orf in the Roller leaving me bereft. That car cost me a bleddy fortune – my pride and joy.”

“Crikey not the Roller – that really must be the last straw. A woman driving a Roller – I dread to think what damage she might do to it.”

“Haven’t slept a wink thinking about it in point of fact. Do you know what I really fancy going on the tilt. To the club for the most liquid of lunchtimes I think?”

“Bleddy right.”



Under cross-examination

The accused

When questioned

By the surly barrister

Could only answer

“She was gagging for it!”

The jurors gasped

The accused

Was ordered by the

The Judge

To elaborate


“She was gagging

For food for her children

A roof over their heads

Gainful employment

Safety and security

Peace and quiet


I am a wealthy man

I provided for her

An immigrant

In a new land



The prosecution

Rested its case

The jury retired

The verdict


Guilty of an act of


Of Charity

Toward the

Desperate illegal

Unlike us

We the privileged


Oceans away

From an unsafe home

She and her offspring

Under lock and key

Await deportation


In summing up

The seemingly

Gracious Judge


Their plight

Yet noted

Our ‘Christian’ land

Was full to

Bursting point


The subjective

And announced

That philanthropy

Was beyond

His gift





The year is 1802. Poet William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy have just returned to Dove Cottage where both have recently taken up residence (don’t even go there!) in the Lake District having, a little earlier in the day had a jolly good constitutional walking about Glencoyne Bay in Ullswater just up the road a bit. William is vexed somewhat for whilst he has the opening gambit to his new poem – an epic he hopes – he simply cannot finish off the first line.  Struggling for inspiration we join William and Dorothy in the garden of the cottage taking tea and having a bit of a chat………..

“I say Sis if the truth be told I am somewhat bolloxed as to how to finish of the very first line of my brand new poem. You see I’ve got as far as ‘I wandered lonely as a……….’ and that’s it – not an original thought in my head thereafter. What to do? Any ideas?”

“What about ‘I wandered lonely as someone who smells a bit?’ That should work nicely don’t you think?”

“’Someone who smells a bit….someone who smells a bit! That’s hardly in the romantic vane I apply to my ever increasing portfolio of sublime poetry is it?”

“Well smelly people are rather lonely what with others avoiding them because they chuck up somewhat.”

“No I’m afraid that that will never do.”

“Well how about ‘I wandered lonely as a serial killer.’ I mean people avoid serial killers like the plague don’t they. Serial killers are therefore ‘lonely.’ How about that one?”


“Um…….let me think. I know, got it ‘I wandered lonely as a cowpat.’”

“Sis for crying out loud. Cowpats don’t wander do they – now be sensible.”

“Cowpats would wander if there was, say, an earthquake. That would shift them around a tad.”

“How then do you determine that said ‘cowpats’ are ‘lonely’ then.”

“Well think about it Billy. When you are walking through a meadow and spot a cowpat you give them a wide berth and that, in my book, makes them ever such lonely things.”


“Crikey we are in a mood today aren’t we? Anyway try this one, ‘I wandered lonely as a known paedophile. They are very, very lonely types what with their disgusting urges.”

“God give me strength. Also you have yet again overlooked the romantic element to my exquisite poetic output haven’t you?”

“Well I’m sure paedophiles think, in their own way that is, that they are a bit romantic.”

“For fuck’s sake Sis you don’t half talk shit sometimes.”

“Right last one I can think of, ‘I wandered lonely as a stag when it’s not the rutting season.’ I’m mean stags are romantic when the fight each other in order to get a shag when the hinds are in season yet ever so lonely for the rest of the time.”


“I give up then. Ah well at least it’s a beautiful day. Just look up at that blue sky, natures very own panorama with just that one little fluffy white cloud – simply gorgeous.”

“Suppose so…….right let’s get me thinking cap on. ‘I wandered lonely as a…..…..’ – no not a bloody sausage.”


Danny “Sparko” Soz: Heavyweight Consumer Champion

Here’s one from the quill of Lord Danny Soz 7th. Earl of Whitechapel on behalf of us suffering consumers everywhere!


tough guy

I Know Your Rights!”

Dear Danny

I recently purchased one of those small, car vacuum cleaners to use on the carpets, mats and trim on my Honda hatchback but when I switched it on it began smoking and eventually blew a fuse in the voltage regulator. I took it back to the shop but the manager refused me a refund, claiming that I must have caused the problem myself through misuse of the item.

I wonder if you could help me with this one Danny as it cost quite a bit of money and my wife’s none too happy.

Kevin Chadwick



Dear Kevin

I went round to the manager’s house last night and gave him a solid right uppercut to the jaw. I then “went downstairs” and worked his lower body with a few powerful shots using both left and right hooks. This seemed to sicken him…

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The busy

Self-centred capitalists

The soft socialists

The hopeless dreamers


None of them

Noticed the bulge

Of the pregnancy


Mother ‘Far Right’

Is with child once more


Yet still

Across Western Europe

The realisation

Of imminent birth

Of another beast

In human form

Fails to stir

Anything other

Than ‘worrying’



Voting habits


The surgeon’s knife

Is at the ready

A Caesarean cut

Is planned

Golden framed

Spectacles donned

The surgeon grins

Readying himself

Awaiting the nod

Of the like-minded

To make the ‘cut’


Pity Democracy

Denies enforced


Thinks this radical


Early morn USA

Uncle Sam

Takes morning coffee

Thumbs through

The NY Times

Middle East



Same old same old

Notes at least

There is nothing much

Of material interest

Going on

The other side

Of the pond




“Well young Cyrus today’s the today son.”

“What’s that then Dad?”

“Surely you’ve not forgotten lad – today you will attempt to reach what is thought locally to be the highest point in our flood plain village of Dinglethorpe namely the north face of Mrs Dearstalker’s garden shed no less! It stands at nearly four metres and remember no one has ever conquered its summit by the northern route previously so ready yourself Cyrus boy for today is your day to achieve accolades and plaudits of both your contemporaries and elders alike. The ascent commences at noon and you will need to check to ensure your equipment is in appropriate condition for such a dangerous escapade and that you have sufficient provisions for what could well be a lengthy climb. And remember only a fool takes unnecessary risks.”

“Oh but Dad I were going to village pond with the rest of the lads to hunt sticklebacks today – can’t we do the shed another time?”

“Cyrus, Cyrus, Cyrus we’ve been waiting weeks for ideal weather conditions such as we have this very day. This is a window of opportunity not to be scoffed at – and besides I’ve already purchased for you a veritable sufficiency of freshly sliced Kendall Mint Cake to feed an army.”

“But you know I’ve got vertigo Dad – that’s why you bought the bungalow. You do recall that don’t you Dad?”

“Vertigo my arse Cyrus – there’s no such thing. Right then let’s go through the check list. Climbing harness – ROGER THAT; helmet – ROGER THAT; boots – ROGER THAT; a handy nut tool – ROGER THAT; quickdraws – ROGER THAT; rope, nuts and hexes – ROGER THAT; slings, plus of course a few screwgate carabiners – ROGER THOSE.”

“No one says ‘ROGER THOSE’ Dad – it’s always ‘ROGER THAT’”

“True, you’re right should I start the check list again?”

“Nay, don’t bother with that Dad and anyway won’t I need a handy guidebook Dad?”

“Good thinking son – every mountaineer must have a handy guidebook about their person.”

“Where we going to get a handy guidebook Dad?”

“Ah you’ve got me there boy.”

“Can I go and hunt the sticklebacks in the village pond then Dad – you know until we can get ourselves a handy guidebook charting the best passage to the summit?”

“Um……..you’ve got me thinking now lad…….yes it would be highly irresponsible of me to let you embark on such a dangerous venture not fully prepared. Sadly Cyrus – and I do hope you won’t be overly distressed the mission must be aborted on this occasion. Apologies son, I know the acquisition of a handy guidebook was my responsibility.”

“No matter Dad I’ll be back for me supper – catch up with you later.”