BACK ISSUES

AMERIKA THE BEAUTIFUL

Bird Guano’s

SAUSAGE LIFE
The column which frequently looks at gift horses, but not in the mouth

READER: Have you ever had PPI?

MYSELF: As a matter of fact I have. A particularly bad strain as it happens, which tends to recur during the spring equinox or when Venus is aligned with Pisces and making a noise like a chicken. I caught it during a skiing holiday in Malta.

READER: Malta? Are you sure? I’m pretty certain you can’t go skiing in Malta because of the unsuitable climate.

MYSELF: Correct. The whole trip was a disaster. I didn’t read the small print.

READER: A lesson we should all learn. What are the symptoms of PPI anyway?

MYSELF: Runny nose, aching joints, existential angst and the urge to lash out at someone with whatever comes to hand.

READER: The reason I ask is because I recently received this letter, titled “Have You Ever Had PPI?” hand-written with a quill pen on 300gm violet-tinted Basildon Bond which reeked of Eau de Cheval by Hugo Boss:

Dear fill in name here,
Not everyone can be astute, alert, or even mildy intelligent. That is no reason to miss out on free money, and where free money is concerned, you need look no further! Just relax, put your feet up, pour yourself a beer and let us do all the work. In practically no time at all, once terms and conditions have been applied (no need to strain your eyes on the small print!), free cash will be pouring into your bank account like honey. Listen! Can you hear that lovely happy tune? Everyone enjoys whistling, particularly when it is barely recognizable as an actual tune, and is accompanied by the ukulele played in the style of Mr. George Formby. We at Ratatouille Cruickshank & Windfarm, take our responsibilities as guardians of your health very seriously, which is why we decided to write to you. In the event that you missed our radio commercials stating that we will send you a small percentage of what you are owed by the swindling banks – all you have to do is fill in our simple online questionnaire and tick the box permitting us to sell on your personal data to a variety of reputable financial service providers and ambulance chasers.

MYSELF: Sounds like a win-win fee-fee situation, what are you waiting for?

READER: Godot.

SOCCER PUNCH

Hastings & St Leonards Warriors' return to the top flight continues to falter even after new owners Mexican drug cartel n’ money laundry We Don’ Need No Steenkin’ Badges pledged unlimited cash for new players. Ruud Gouda, Warriors’ new signing from AFC Maasdammer made an instant impression during Friday’s fifth round Lillette's Cup match against Upper Dicker Macaroons.
Following a red card for fouling Macaroons centre back Karl Doppleganger with a savage upper cut in the penalty area just before the final whistle, Gouda was escorted from the pitch by uniformed security officers. On the way to the tunnel he managed to head butt the referee and bite both linesmen. Upper Dicker striker Dave Babcock's unstoppable spot kick took the final score to 8-0, ensuring the Macaroons’ safe passage to the quarter final.

In a post-match interview, Todd Studebaker, spokesman for Warrior's new US sponsors Pharmaceutical Solutions Inc, downplayed the incident:

"Let's not make some kinda mountain outa some kind of a molehill here!” he told us, “Ruud is no ordinary player, he’s a highly strung professional who needs to be handled with kid gloves. He's more like a Stradivarius, or a high performance Masarati. Sure, Bill Doppleganger may never play soccer again, but let’s face it, if the the sun hadn’t got in Gouda’s eyes he would never have have lashed out. He’s an accident waiting for someone to happen to. The ref should have kept his mouth shut instead of winding him up with a red card. This kind of hysteria would never happen back home. Only last season, Tom Grabowsky, quarterback for The Boston Stranglers, murdered dee-fence coach Louis Van der Smoot for putting itching powder in his jockstrap for a prank. Nobody made a fuss. You British are a bunch of girls."

DAFFO DILLY SEASON

Recently, in this column, a Mrs Enid Borogrove submitted an unusual enquiry about the number of golden daffodils required to make up a host. Since then, there appears to have been an outbreak of daffodil-related incidents in supermarkets up and down the country. The worst was at a branch of Paupers R Us in Chipping Norton, where five people died as a result of eating daffodil petals, which they mistook for blancmange flakes. In Beyondenden, Kent, a Mrs. Bette Noir was electrocuted after attempting to screw a daffodil bulb into her bedside lamp. The Surgeon General has asked that in future, all daffodils carry a prominent label stating that they are for floral purposes only.

AI DON’T THINK SO
Elon Musk’s latest language learning model CROK is able to trawl all of the world’s bullshit in seconds, which is then recycled according to the question or task you put to it. This means that misleading or false information is often allowed to creep in undetected. I saw this reply to a query recently, can you spot the erroneous info?

THE BUDONG
The Budong is a huge mammal resembling a giant Angus Bull, but with gills and a pressurised exoskeleton enabling it to withstand the enormous forces at work deep under the ocean. The mighty bone-scaffolding also allows these giant cattle to exist in outer space and over the years the Budong has forged a symbiotic relationship with the Soyuz Space Station, where, tethered to the hull, it feeds on counterfeit vodka and rehydrated caviar. In return the grateful beasts allow the cosmonauts to hack off the occasional fillet steak for lunch.

READER: Was it the vodka and caviar?

MYSELF: No, that bit is true

READER: The gills?

MYSELF: How would you expect them to breathe underwater?

READER: I give up then.

MYSELF: It was the steak. All Russian cosmonauts are vegan

Sausage Life!

Against all odds, a poor Irish immigrant family rise to the top in 19th century America

Rarely-seen 2Os German Expressionist film about a strange spanner-worshipping cult

JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUN READER aka PASS THE INSTANT YOGA

JACK POUND

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CHEMTRAILS ON MY MIND
MORT J SPOONBENDER

On September 11th 1958, José Popacatapetl, a retired tree psychologist who's father was head gardener for the CIA during the cold war, was hitchiking through the Alberqueque desert when he was picked up by a black sedan driven by J Edgar Hoover's ex-boyfriend André Pfaff head of FBI underhand operations and extra-terrestrial banking who once worked as a quantum mechanic for the KGB under the direct orders of the zombie reincarnation of Josef Stalin whose mummified corpse was stored in a secret bunker in the basement of the Vatican.

Vote For Countryside Alliance

A party political Broadcast by The Hunt Cult.

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THE SENIOR MOMENTS

SEE THEIR LAST GREAT PERFORMANCE ON THE THE PERRY COMO SHOW 1959

POISON PEOPLE

By Guano Poundhammer

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Video from the album Domestic Bliss

SUPERCALIFUCKINGFRAGIFUCKINGLISTICEXPIALIFUCKINGDOCIOUS

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ATTENZIONE!

‘Watching Paint Die’ EP by Girl Bites Dog is out now and available wherever you rip off your music.

Made entirely without the assistance of AI, each listen is guaranteed to eliminate hair loss, cure gluten intolerance and stop your cat from pissing in next door's garden.

Photo credit: Alice's Dad (circa 2000)

https://open.spotify.com/album/2fHlSX6Dm7hEm9TUYkGUAN...