Monthly Archives: May 2010

Non-Paedophilic, Big, Friendly, Publishing Panda

The panda lumbered over to the little girl and grinned widely.

‘Come and have adventures with me,’ he entreated.

‘Thank you, but no,’ she replied.

‘Good,’ said the panda starting off before turning around, amazed. ‘What do you mean, no?’

‘You’re a stranger and you know what the adults say,’ explained the little girl.

‘I’m not strange. I’m big and friendly,’ asserted the panda indignantly.

‘You are strange to me,’ said the little girl, matter-of-factly. ‘I don’t know you.’

‘You don’t need to know me. I’m in a children’s story. Children kill to play with me. It’s a no-brainer.’

‘I still can’t go with you. And I can’t get into your panda car and eat your sweets either.’

‘I don’t have wheels and I haven’t got any sweets, Sunshine. I don’t need them. I’m big and friendly and in publishing.’

‘Still can’t go. Mummy says so.’

Then Mummy needs to learn how kids get a name for themselves these days, kiddo. It’s media exposure all the way.’

‘Don’t want meedier spojer,’ said the little girl calmly. ‘Just have to go with people I know.’

‘For the last time, I’m not a bloody paedophile. I’m a big, friendly, publishing panda.’

‘Well, you’re big, it’s true,’ the little girl replied. ‘But I don’t think you’re very friendly. And you don’t have any gummy bears to swing it.’

And she bid good day to the panda and carried on picking her scab.

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Blair Witch Toothbrush

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Ten reasons Britain is quite funny

1. Our politicians think sarcasm is an acceptable way to woo the voting public.

There are some countries who are corrupt in private and schmaltzy in public. The Brits like it the other way around, asking their agencies to put ‘sneery’ under the tone of voice section of the advertising brief.

Whether they have factored in over half a million voters with autism spectrum disorders who will take them at their word and swathes of the Welsh coast who have not yet been visited by cynicism, is unclear.

2. Our women cannot walk in high heels.

This makes them less attractive than if they didn’t bother wearing them in the first place.

Luckily, the fact that they do not realise this is what makes them attractive.

3. Our men cannot work the smart casual look.

They think it is attractive to wear bermuda shorts out on the town during Springtime.

Unfortunately, the fact that they do not realise this make them even more unattractive.

However, when you mention this to the London cabbie and he says, ‘Yeah, I was just finking I’d like to round ’em all up and shoot ’em’, this makes you laugh and helps to restore their currency.

4. We hate children.

In public places, like restaurants and parks, and especially in our own homes.

Certain country pile bed and breakfasts have developed a code for this on their websites, which is a large C next to a 12. This indicates that children over 12 are welcome, which indicates that children under 12 are not. If you telephone them to check if they really mean it they will put the receiver down for a second, spit, then pick it up again and tell you politely that they mean it very much indeed.

5. We hate old people.

At the wheel of a car, in the workplace and draining pension schemes. Hogging NHS wards, on the television and talking to us at the Post Office. Actually, anywhere that is not Eastbourne.

Above all, weeing on the sofa at Christmas.

6. We are not interested in being taught cookery on television unless it is by a curvy woman or a punchable man.

Just because we hate food doesn’t mean we don’t want to shag Sophie and Nigella, while sticking needles into the eyes of Gordon and Jamie.

7. We are stubbornly contradictory.

We love Joanna Lumley ’cause she’s posh, Posh ’cause she’s common and Becks ’cause he’s thick. Ferne Britton ’cause she’s fat, Ferne Cotton ’cause she’s thin and Cheryl Cole ’cause she’s a victim. We hate Kate Winslet for being smug, which is the same reason we love Jonathan Ross, who we also hate for being rich. We believe in Judi Dench but not in God and want Cat Deeley to marry Ant and Dec and be a lesbian at the same time. And we can’t decide how much we hate Katie Price for being pissed in Ibiza but we know we love Kate Moss for hoovering cocaine in London ’cause she showed us how to team a waistcoat with pirate boots without looking like Katie Price.

8. We are dissatisfied with our homes.

We mortgage ourselves to buggery to own our Englishman Castles, whose D.I.Y we bodge and fill with furniture that is flat-packed and sold alongside meatballs so we can comfortably swear at programmes about escaping to France and moan with authority about house prices when so-called friends come over to pick through the charred remnants of our cocked-up souffles. (see 6.)

9. We are spraying our throats and sharpening our pencils in training for a Gold medal at Marathon Bitching during the 2012 Olympic Games.

We intend to guffaw at our embarrassing opening ceremony, our inhospitable weather, our insufficient infrastructure, our apathetic attendance and our crap athletes, inbetween gobfuls of M & S ready meals.

10. Our political activists aren’t overly scary.

They huddle in the dimly lit rooms of Edgeware Road flats awaiting the return of their leader with the weapons arsenal:

‘Did you get them?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many?’

‘Half a dozen.’

‘Are they free range?’

‘Of course.’

‘ With Omega oils?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And the flour?’

‘Wholewheat and organic… Tomorrow, comrades, we raise our voices.’

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