Thursday, 26 May 2011

Isle Of Wight Fishmonger Fined For Displaying Naked Bream

Fishmonger, Ted Nugent, was fined £10 by Shanklin magistrates today for displaying a nude sea bream in the window of his High Street shop - writes chief crime reporter Juanita Juan.

Nugent pleaded guilty to improperly displaying a naked fish - and asked for five hundred similar offences to be taken into consideration.

"This apology for a human being - this odious philanderer - this loathsome stain upon the good name of the Isle of Wight -  this nauseating dealer in seagoing pornography, is nothing more than a serial fish molester", growled Chairman of the Bench, ex Field Marshall Sir Vernon Blatchcock-Barnowl.

"Not only has he subjected this innocent bream to the vile gaze of visiting perverts from overseas, he also admits to having similarly besmirched haddock, whiting, lemon sole, gurnard, sprats and a line-caught dog fish."

"I have decided to leave on record further grave offences involving molluscs, crustaceans and sundry under-age whitebait", declared Sir Vernon.

Defending the accused, Herbert Digweed-Dambuster QC explained that his client had gone to great lengths to provide adequate cover for the naked fish.  Which only served to make the magistrates even more angry than they were already.

"If he thinks the odd sprig of parsley is sufficient to spare the blushes of a stripped sea bream he's got another thought coming", shouted Sir Vernon.

"He will go to prison for fifty years."

The sentenced was reduced on appeal.

In a similar case, Ventnor magistrates decided that frozen fish fingers were not subject to the same decency laws as sea bream.

Miner Strikes Gold Under Bank Of England

A lucky gold miner from Bethnal Green laid claim to the top end of Threadneedle Street today after striking gold fifty feet below the surface. 

Within an hour, city police reported thousands of men with shovels gathering outside Mansion House tube station.

"I had a feelin' there was tons of gold down there", laughed Ron Varley as he triumphantly showed a group of prospectors a large ingot, clearly stamped Property of the Bank of England.

Varley explained he had started his mine six months ago, from a disused back yard just around the corner in Throgmorton Street. 

"To an experienced miner like me, this whole area stinks of pure gold", he declared.

He revealed he had dug his shaft straight down for 50 feet before branching left in the direction of Threadneedle Street.

"Once I was under the Bank of England, my electronic gold detector flew right off the scale", he said.

"After locating the seam, it was a simple case of getting out the gelignite, blasting a hole through a solid steel wall and then winching the gold straight up to the surface".

Varley then headed off to celebrate with a slap-up meal at London's Savoy Hotel.  Together with explosives expert Roy 'Banger' Bullman and 60 year old Reg Platt who drove the getaway van.

"We reckon there's diamonds and all sorts of priceless jewels somewhere under the Tower of London", he said as he tucked into a plate of red mullet with fries and onions.

"Maybe we'll pay them a visit next Tuesday".

Maestro Varley To Play Albert Hall Prom Concerto For Washboard & Spoons

Islington's Ted Varley has agreed to give his washboard & spoons version of Beethoven Piano Concerto No 5 during this season's Albert Hall Promenade Festival.

Varley will play the 'Emperor' in E-flat Major at a special concert to commemorate the 400th Anniversary of the King James'  bible.  It will be held on Friday September 13th - with Daniel Barenboim conducting the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.

"Varley plays the spoons like nobody on earth", said Barenboim. 

"He's the Pavarotti of the Percussion Section". 

"Aged 96, stone deaf and unable to read music, this man's a credit to the cultural values of saloon bars throughout North London", he added.

"Everyone that counts from the world of classical music will gather in the Albert Hall that night", declared illustrious pianist and conductor, Vladimir Ashkenazy.  

"I shall be sitting with  Lang Lang and the incomparable Martha Argerich, wondering post-Varley if any of us will ever dare revisit Beethoven's original keyboard version of this concerto.

"Had he lived, Ludwig Van Beethoven would surely have written for Spoons & Washboard", declared pioneering Venezuelan genius, Gustavo Dudamel. 

Kick off at 8.15. 

Sold Out!

Live on BBC 2

Man Entered For Crufts Declared Barking

Bob Pomeroy, who entered this year's Crufts as a wolfhound, has been declared barking mad under the 1864 Mad Dog Act.

Dorking Magistrates heard today how Pomeroy, a 56 year old supermarket manager from Leatherhead, entered Crufts as 7 year old wolfhound 'Beau Bob' in the Working Gundog section of this year's competition. 

"I immediately suspected Beau Bob was not a wolfhound", explained legendary 68 year old judge, Dora Cattermole.

"For a start, he didn't appear comfortable on all fours". 

"Then, when I asked his handler, Mr Mundy, why Beau Bob's tail had been removed, he simply told me I'd have to ask the dog".

"Finally, when I had my customary feel between Beau Bob's back legs, he got far more excited than any wolfhound I've come across in 30 years as a circuit judge".

Eye witnesses revealed it took six male judges to drag Beau Bob off Dora Cattermole and into a ringside cage.

"The dog had a paw up Dora's tartan skirt and was foaming at the mouth", declared ironmonger and poodle connoisseur Vernon Moult. 

Passing sentence, Chairman of the Bench Roy Figgis growled, "This tailless wolfhound, Beau Bob, is a disgrace to Crufts name and reputation".

Seconds later, muzzled Bob Pomeroy, wearing a smart two-piece suit and red tie, was led away for further training at Her Majesty's pleasure.

84 year old chihuahua, Vic Noblet from Kettering, won Best in Show.

Dorking Man Walking Pet Snake Causes World's Worst Traffic Jam

Bernard Barnowl caused the world's longest traffic jam today when he put a lead on his pet Python, Monty, and took him for a walk down the A24 near Dorking.

Forty two foot reticulated python, Monty, is used to being taken for a constitutional along the lamp posts and woodland pathways on the verges of the A24. 

"Daily walkies are a vital part of Monty's lifestyle", explained 48 year old milkman Barnowl. 

"He gets to stretch himself out, eat the odd lamb or hedgehog, have a sniff round the undergrowth and crucially mark-out his territory.  Pythons are very much like dogs you know".

Things went wrong this morning when Barnowl decided to escort Monty across the road.

"I waited for a long gap in the traffic, then led him across the A24", explained Barnowl.

"I'd just reached the other side, when the stupid snake decided he wanted the loo". 

"So I shouted at him.  I told him straight.  I said look here Monty, your head is one side of the A24 and your tail's on the other.  This is neither the time nor place to go poo poo".

"Would he listen.  No way.  He just looked up like I was a complete idiot - and began the lengthy process of doing his number twos. 

Pythons are like that you know, obstinate buggers".

Thankfully the first vehicles to approach the scene were paying attention. 

"As I looked ahead I immediately noticed there was a big python stretched across the road having a crap", revealed 53 year old delivery driver Ron Huggett.  "So I pulled up and waited for it to finish".

District nurse, Minnie Hardacre, did exactly the same from the opposite direction. 

"I know global warming's a problem.  But I didn't expect pythons in Surrey quite so soon", she said.

Within an hour traffic was at a standstill all the way down to Worthing. 

Whilst the nearby M25 was at a halt from Heathrow right across Surrey and Kent as far as the Dartford tunnel.

"It's the worst traffic jam in history", declared Chief Inspector Bob Ballard of Surrey police. 

"Sixty five miles of cars and lorries all bumper to bumper".

Bloody pythons!

Birdman Of Dorking Dies On Maiden Flight

Human bird Bob Pomfroy is dead!  

He took-off from the summit of Box Hill at 8.15a.m today.  But his body was discovered an hour later.  In light undergrowth beside the A25, midway between Dorking and Guildford. 

Locally born and bred, 56 year old  Pomfroy made headlines in January, when he had 10,000 bird feathers implanted into his skin. 

"At Bob's request, I turned him into the world's first flying ostrich", explained consultant surgeon Professor Arthur Mouton-Birdbath.

Pomfroy, a local ferret breeder and authority on suburban pigeons, believed humans would be capable of sustained flight, if only they had feathers. 

"He spent fifteen years studying dead starlings at our dining-room table", wept his distraught wife Marlene.  

"Calculating what he called 'the precise mechanics of flight'.    In the end he claimed he knew exactly how many feathers per square inch he would need".

"By Christmas there was nothing Bob didn't know about being a bird", she said.

"So we decided to go ahead with the operation.  

"As I told Professor Birdbath.  To most people my husband is a boring ferret breeder.  Now make him the kind of man everyone will look up to".

Thousands turned out to see Bob Pomfroy take to the sky.

"We were standing two hundred feet below.  Ready to rush him straight to hospital", said elderly paramedic Ted Warnock.

"The moment the band started playing the Dam Busters march, we started the motor in the ambulance.  As Mr Pomfroy prepared for take-off, we had six of us waiting with an outstretched blanket.   And a stretcher in case we missed him."

The great moment had arrived. 

Pomfroy slowly squatted down, bending his knees.  Eyes wide open and looking straight ahead, he took a deep breath. 

Then with both arms flapping wildly, he leapt off the edge and out  into the freedom of the open sky.

To the amazement of everyone, ghoulishly gathered to witness a twerp plunge to his certain death, the local ambulance service turned out to be surplus to requirements.

"He went off like a startled crow", said disappointed bystander Reg Pillock.   "Straight as an arrow and higher and higher in the sky.   Until he vanished into a passing cloud".

"Nobody clapped.  We just stood there with our mouths wide open.  Struck dumb.  Gobsmacked by the sight of a middle aged man flying  into the distance. With a smile on his face  Like he was some kind of  bird without a care in the entire bloody world".

Forty five minutes later, pig-breeder Len Normington was carefully driving his massive 68 ton lorry along the A25, midway between Dorking and Guildford.

"I was heading to market.  Peacefully finishing me ham and cheddar sandwich with mustard and pickle".  

"When suddenly I saw this crazy ostrich heading in my direction", explained shocked Normington ten minutes later.

"I ask you!  A bloody great ostrich". 

"Diving straight down towards me".

"Slap into me windscreen".

"Stupid bloody bird". 

"Never stood a chance".

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Spoof Tribute To Peter Cook

Peter Cook (1935-1995) was one of the greatest British wits of all time.

Comedy is rooted in the history of British theatre. But the second half of the 20th century saw television join the wireless as an alternative mainstream outlet for high culture.

Peter Cook, whilst not a pioneer, set the bar for most of the highest and the lowest standards we have today. Alongside Tommy Cooper, Spike Milligan and one or two others

He was a glorious man. Unambitious, carefree, born to make people laugh. The son of a colonial civil servant, Cook was public school and Cambridge. A traditional Englishman to his boots. Think Harold MacMillan meets Alfred Doolittle. Or Lord Boothby meets Brian Clough.

Naturally, Cook began in the theatre. But he was a sketch writer and a performer, not a playwright. Actually he was many things: satirist; publisher; comedian; club owner; film actor; TV guest - to name but a few.

Beyond his writing, every aspiring satirist should watch for Cook's imaginative and quick witted improvisations in performance. Creating lines off the cuff and on the hoof. Alongside his talent for memorable characterisation. Usually High Life pedants or Low Life nincompoops.

My favourites are Sir Arthur Streeb-Greebling, nitwit Norman House with his metal detector, Scunthorpe FC manager Alan Latchley, rock legend Eric Daley, High Court Judge Sir James Beauchamp and of course Pete opposite Dudley Moore from the Pete & Dud stage and TV sketches.

Peter Cook was often outrageous. Witness his famous Derek & Clive 'cunt' sketch with Dudley. But he was never even remotely crude. He just dared to tread where others never thought to step.

So forgive my pathetic attempt to capture just a hint of that surreal style. In this short sketch. With the ghosts of Peter Cook playing Sid and Dudley Moore as his colleague, Brian.

Sid & Brian Contemplate Lost Property At Dorking Station

Sydney Parslow, a 48 year old ticket-office clerk at Dorking Railway Station is having a lunchtime pint with Brian Maggot, 46, who helps runs the snack bar on Platform One:

SID: You seen what's been handed in to lost property Brian?

BRIAN: No I haven't Sid. What?

SID: You're never going to believe this.

BRIAN: Not a soddin' umbrella?

SID: Close.

BRIAN: A mobile phone?

SID: Getting warm..

BRIAN: I know. A pair of brown leather gloves?

SID: Getting very warm..

BRIAN: No good. I give up. You'll have to tell me.

SID: Another bloody vagina.

BRIAN: Oh No! Not another bloody vagina! Poor thing. How many's that since Sunday?

SID: Four. If you count the one that escaped.

BRIAN: Bloody hell. What condition's this one in?

SID: Fine. Considering the ordeal it must've been through.

I gave it a saucer of milk. Then it fell asleep with a smile on its face.

BRIAN: Ah. Bless its heart. I don't know. What is it about these modern women?

SID: Spoilt. That's what.

BRIAN: You're right there Sid. I blame all that Reality TV..

SID: You'd have thought they'd at least take proper care of their vagina. Given they've only got the one.

BRIAN: Too right. It's not as if a vagina's a fabulous breast. Or a little finger. I mean, they've got a spare breast. And loads of fingers. But fancy losing your one and only vagina. If I had a vagina I'd take bloody good care of it. Keep a very close eye out.

SID: I know Brian. As I've often heard you say. I wish I had a vagina. If only I had a vagina my entire life would be far less complicated. My vagina would be the most loved, the most closely observed vagina in the entire world. It would be a well-watched vagina.

BRIAN: Jealously guarded. Kept under lock and key.

SID: Constantly in chains if it were mine. Bolted to the floor.

BRIAN: So what have you done with it?

SID: Put it in the hutch with the others.

BRIAN: Poor bloody vaginas. What if nobody claims them?

SID: I'd rather not tell you that Brian.

BRIAN: Don't say they put them down?

SID: No. But suffice to say, what happens is not very nice. Certainly not the kind of end I'd wish for any vagina of mine.

BRIAN: Poor things. Someone should make an effort to repatriate them.
Here, do you think this new one might belong to Cheryl Cole?

SID: Cheryl Cole? What gives you that idea?

BRIAN: I don't know. But it could belong to Cheryl Cole couldn't it?

SID: How on earth do you suppose Cheryl Cole came to lose her vagina on Platform 1 of Dorking Station?

BRIAN: I don't bloody know. How does any woman lose her vagina? It could have been accidental. Whilst her mind was temporarily distracted.

SID: So what was a globe-trotting superstar like her doing in a state of distraction in Dorking?

BRIAN: What's wrong with Dorking?

SID: Nothing's wrong with Dorking. I mean you and me find Dorking a perfectly pleasant place in which to spend our entire life. We even find excitement within the confines of Dorking. But let's face it Brian. Dorking isn't exactly the throbbing heart of the metropolitan South East.

BRIAN: OK. Maybe she was passing through. En route between her yacht on the south coast and the flickering lights of London.

SID: Possibly Brian. Possibly.

BRIAN: So why don't you ring and ask her?

SID: What me? Pick up the phone and say 'Hello, is that Cheryl Cole. Oh good. Only it's Sydney Parslow here from British Rail Dorking. I was rummaging through our Lost & Found articles and wondered if you might have inadvertently mislaid your vagina on our Platform 1.

BRIAN: That's right. Then she could have a quick look below and give us an immediate answer.

SID: Don't be ridiculous. Suppose she isn't alone.

BRIAN: Maybe the person she's with could take a look. Either way we'd get a result. Clear up the mystery once and for all.

SID: That's true.

BRIAN: Settle our minds and that.

SID: Prove we've done everything possible to rescue a poor lost vagina.

OK Brian I'll do it.


Hello. Is that Cheryl Cole?