| August 2006 | |
|
Bullshit News - the best bullshit satire
and fun on the net
|
|
|
BERNARD GUSSET -
AFTERTHOUGHTS (Updated... as and when)
|
|
|
IN BRIEF : Latest bulletin on Big Brother - More of the same. Pass the nuts! |
|
| BERNARD RANTS - Current niggles | |
| NEW - VIRAL EMAILS WE LOVE | |
|
Previous
Month's
Front Page
|
|
| August 18th 2006 | |
|
PRESCOTT SAYS BUSH IS CRAP!
|
|
 The future Lord Prescott of Lard |
That love stud, the hot crumpet of Westminster,
sex on legs and the love muffin of the front benches, the cafeteria lurve
machine, John "come up and lobby me sometime" Prescott - or
old tangle tongued fatso as we call him, denied that he'd said anything
of the kind. "...that I said George Bush is crap is crap and typical of a press that's out of control and says the first crap thing that comes to mind that we have no control over - well not yet anyway, heh heh!" Last week Mr Prescott risked life and limb visiting two airports more or less unaffected by the recent terrorism scare. Apparently their pies were better than the ones at Heathrow. "...well that's crap too..." he's alleged to have replied when interviewed, "I as you know favour the little man not these jumped up public school poofs from privileged backgrounds that I never had the benefit of, they should all be shot and at the very least tortured... if we did that sort of thing which we don't as you know and anyone who says different is talking crap! Heh heh!" . |
| "But you have money and
privilege and grace and favour homes, 2 Jags, endless junkets etc, despite
your inept ability to string sentences together. Let's face it Mr Prescott,
you've got by by being a thug and a bully with no real talent for diplomacy
and very little dignity." "Once again you're talking crap," he allegedly replied, "...I bet you're one of those crap public school types born with a silver spoon in your mouth..." "Yes, my parents did have money enough to send me to a good school and give me a better start. They worked themselves up from the working classes and succeeded in business from very modest beginnings to get where they did. I thought that was what Labour wanted for it's people, to better themselves and be something...?" We expect Mr Prescott's answer at anytime in the next three months |
|
| August 9th 2006 | |
|
MORE PHONE TAPPING AT THE PALAIS
|
|
 If your sperm look like this - see a doctor |
Chas: Ee-bah-gum Camilla, tha's a reet gradely
lass and no mistake. Why... tha's got a chassis on yer that just wont
quit. |
|
Camilla: Why yes chuck I have something large
and strangely familiar here that will suffice in your absence. Thank
god for polo. You may not be king yet lover, but you are my King of
cunnilingus, the Duke of going down, the Prince of cock, I'm running
out of metaphors. |
|
| August 1st 2006 | |
|
FLOG 'EM AND HANG 'EM
|
|
 A new kind of education required |
A Man who told two teenage "No Hopers" to stop throwing eggs at a house he was staying at in Manchester has been fighting for his life in hospital after they clubbed him with a wooden post and knocked him to the ground where he hit his head on the kerb. Had he just shot at them with a gun to deter them he would be fighting for his freedom but no. In this country, you need to have been put in serious personal danger and close to death before the law is on your side. Then of course they let these spastic brained morons off - because they've had a difficult up bringing. In other words they've observed nothing of humanity or decency or right or wrong from watching endless hours of television and gone straight to seeking revenge on everyone else who they blame for their inability to work it out. Bring back the birch and the rope!
|
| August 1st 2006 | |
|
EGGS-HAUSTING WASTE OF TIME
|
|
 Rocket science for idiots |
At last someone has come up with the ultimate aid to idleness. The boiled egg that let's you know when it is done. It's logo turns black. Just what the ordinary man in the street needs. Now he can sit on his sofa getting fatter and fatter secure in the knowledge that his egg is boiling itself. If only it could also remove itself from the water, masticate itself into manageable pre-chewed mush and flush itself down the loo, it could by-pass the need for any contact with it's recipient at all who could lay motionless on his sofa getting fatter and lazier secure in the knowledge that he hasn't got a damned thing to do other than watch end to end videos of Richard and Judy and pop saturated fats, additives and sugar into his slavering mouth. |
|
Incorporate a commode into the sofa and he can take a dump without having to move his fat arse at all. Throw a duvet over him and he can live there. What's next? Lavatory paper that leaps off the roll, rushes round the back and buffs you until shiny. Beam me up Scotty!
|
|
| August 1st 2006 | |
|
MORE TURKEYS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE
A STICK AT
|
|
 John Prescott - 2 Gobbles |
So they have an egg that tells you when it's done. Hard boiled, soft boiled or "Hey let me lay the clucking thing will yuh?" They could do with a device like that in the house of commons. A device that tells you when a politician is half baked, over cooked, or frazzled to a crisp. Now which politicians fit which mode? Mmmm? Well John Prescott has been half baked for most of his career, though right now he's looking over cooked not to say at the "Chuck it in the bin" stage. Umm, not that keen on eggs either if my memory serves me, particularly those arriving unexpectedly. Not a great lover of water either. He tried a bucket full once at a concert where his fat little body was bopping very embarrassingly to some rock and roll and a member of the band threw it over him, thus making him look even less cool than he is, if that is possible. Inside his fat body there's an even fatter Prescott trying to string sentences together. And also one saying look at me I'm a rock star. And another saying "Where are the pies at?" |
|
Tony Blair. Well if you like your meat just done, forget it. This one's been in the oven waaaay too long. Juices all cooked out, dry as a bone, nothing left worth sinking your teeth into. A carcass of self destruction. This is one Turkey that just wouldn't leave the oven, know what I mean man? Margaret Beckett, well stewed, just like her rhetoric. The Shredded Wheat hair-do doesn't help her image and those teeth would make a good can opener. Three day old moules left in a bucket in the sun a safer bet. Anyway, it's academic really. She wont be around. With the peace and quiet in the middle east she's taken the opportunity to go off caravanning for a few weeks. Golden Brown, Gordon Brown. Sounds delicious doesn't it after a diet of jugged Tony Blair. But watch out. It's all dressing. A turkey Twizzler dressed up to look like pheasant. The well hung smell is there, clever stuff to fool the populace. Not a lot to savour though and bad for your health, all E numbers and additives. A dish that will over tax all of us with it's ambitions for the third world. We'll pay and no mistake. As for the opposition. David Cameron. Looked good when it came out of the oven but not much flavour, a vegetarian dish that really needs meat to give it voter appeal. Wishy washy sauce that is neither one thing nor the other and adds nothing to the dish. A dish of pretension lacking in content. David Davies, meat and two veg but left on the sideboard in favour of a better presented dish. Still, it might yet get some attention when the other dishes fall flat. William Haigh, a good dish that wasn't initially appreciated. One of those dishes like crepe suzette that may yet come back into fashion. |
|
