Bird Guano’s
SAUSAGE LIFE
The column which thinks that facts are merely irritating obstacles blocking the road to truth
MYSELF: I’m trying to find out who are the world’s most punchable people. That is to say, those who’s ubiquitous inventions are neither use nor ornament, and which cause nothing but distress, depression, anxiety, and a feeling of unquenchable violence. People who invent words like upskilling for instance.
READER: I’m not a great fan of the word upskilling myself, but what’s wrong with inventing words? Surely all words are invented anyway?
MYSELF: So true, so true. Faith and Begorrah indeed, so they are, and no mistake.
READER: There you are. Begorrah. What sort of a word is that?
MYSELF: It is a splendid Irish example of what is known as a minced oath, and is derived from By God. You can see the point; it is just a way of disguising your own profanity, or blasphemy.
READER: Blimey!
MYSELF: Cor Blimey – there’s another one, derived originally from God Blind Me. Then there is the phrase Suffering Succotash, which is…….
READER: (smugly): Now then, I know this one. A phrase often employed as an expression of frustration by Tweety Pie’s nemesis, Sylvester the Cat, I think you’ll find that it should be more correctly pronounced Thufferin’ Thuccotash.
MYSELF: Fascinating, but we are straying from the point. After an extensive survey of over nine people, I have concluded that the world’s most punchable person is the man or woman who inflicted upon us those twin abominations, Plastic Five and Ten Pound Notes. This maniac singlehandedly took away the entire concept of folding money, replacing it with coiled springs which leap out of your pocket the minute you start looking for your keys.
READER: Goldarn it you’re right. I’d punch that feller on the snoot and to heck with the consequences.
MYSELF: Egad, I think you’re getting the hang of it.
ASK GINGERBOY
Global warming, radical international terrorism, the terrible legacy of Brexit – is humanity headed for extinction? Our ace cub reporter and Tunbridge Wells’ vegan rudeboy, Shaka Lackaboom aka Gingerboy, the carrot-topped philosopher with the untraceable accent, gave us his finger-on-the-pulse response via twitter:
Brexit? WTF FFS LOL? Pardon me French innit, cos we is not gonna hear much of it now we has left de EU gnome sane? Nigel Farage an Richi Sunak an Jake da Rees-Mogg – dem is arl merchant bankers bruv! – Cockney rhyming slangs innit? Dem is in a massive conspiracy feary wid da Royal Lizard Family an da governmens and da Blackpool Illuminati! Just look at all da everdense dude, gnome sane?
Gotta go peeps, mum says ma tea is ready. Peace bruv.”
#shakalakaboom69 #holdmebellywhileipullmepipe
UPPER DICKER HOSTS BLANDFEST ’23
The annual one-day celebration of mediocrity from around the world will take place at various venues in Upper Dicker in April. Here are just a few of the attractions planned.
At everyone’s favourite lap-dancing n’ kilted yoga centre The Humpty Dumpty Rooms, Scandinavian psychics Lars Ongar & Rita Brevis will be signing copies of their latest book, Don’t Tell Me, I Already Know, as well as giving hot and cold readings, tarot-based massage and horseracing tips. Former motoring pundit-turned-film-producer Hugh Jarse will chair a discussion on the art of the screenplay at popular adult nightspot The Cat’s Pyjama, following an invitation-only showing of Holocaustic Soda, Jarce’s low-budget disaster movie based on an episode of Top Gear, his former BBC show. Crime writer Broccoli Palindrome will appear at the Upper Dicker branch of Sex Toys R Us, where she will host a Q&A session after reading excerpts from Ominous Triangles, her latest Inspector Twollet whodunnit, in which a scientologist out on a stag night is found dead in a cheap motel, his head crushed in the jaws of a Corby Trouser Press.
FOOTBALL NEWS
Hastings & St Leonards Warriors FC have shattered their transfer fee record by signing Italian-born prodigy Giorgio Asciugacapelli from league rivals Peasemarsh Antelope FC for a reputed £350. The 17-year-old striker is said to have been offered an unprecedented six-month zero hours contract involving a salary “well in excess of the minimum wage”, a rumour that caretaker manager Nobby Balaclava, the club’s former midfield enforcer, was keen to quell. “Let’s just set the record straight,” he told our reporter, “Despite his 6’ 7” frame, a conviction for unprovoked violence and his predilection for class ‘A’ drugs, Giorgio is still a vulnerable teenager. As his in loco parentis custodians, it is our duty to keep him on the straight and narrow, or at the very least the narrow. Showering young players with ridiculous amounts of money at such a tender age is not what this great football club is about. He will be required to turn up at the Warrior Gate training ground every Tuesday morning with the rest of the squad, and we have arranged for him to share a room at the club’s secure accommodation (Mrs McGurk’s Air B‘nB and Nail Bar), with Hideo Toshiba, one of the other foreign lads.”
GUEST PHONE-IN WITH RICK MASERATI
The man who isn’t afraid to say whatever they tell him to
RICK: Driverless buses, whatever next? Letterless postmen? Minicab driver Seymour Dunne on the line from High Dudgeon in Kent, who thinks that potholes are caused by extra-terrestrials who drink baby’s blood good morning.
SEYMOUR: Good morning Rick, just want to say great show and I’m totally with you on driverless buses mate. Total menace, what are they thinking? I honked at a driverless bus for about ten minutes the other day after it wouldn’t move out of a bus lane to let me terrorise a cyclist. Drove my passengers mad. Another thing, what’s wrong with putting illegals in barges? The wife and I had marvellous time on the Norfolk broads one year. the kiddies loved it. Mind you Tracy was sick as a dog all week. If it was up to me I’d string the drug dealers up. When I was a nipper the only skunk you came across was Pepé le Peu the French cartoon character.
RICK: A lot of our listeners are with you on that one Seymour. Which reminds me, whatever happened to good old fashioned white dog poo?
SEYMOUR: China.
RICK: China?
SEYMOUR: It all goes to China and gets made into cheap toys which can put your eye out or give you Covid.
RICK: Thanks for your contribution Seymour! Next on the line is Medved Oligarky who runs a self-service money laundrette in East Sussex which gives fifty percent of its profits to research into narcissistic fibrosis and thinks that Uri Geller murdered Queen Elizebeth by telepathy so that King Charles would give him a job as Court Spoon Bender by Royal Appointment good morning.
Rogue G5 masts have interrupted this broadcast. Normal service will be resumed as soon as the installation of superfast fibre broadband cables is concluded.
Sausage Life!
