The column where news is still a science as yet unproven
MYSELF: Why are you wearing that rediculous hat?
READER: You’ll find out after I’ve changed my name
MYSELF: Changed your name? To what?
MYSELF: Why Toby??
READER: In honour of St Patrick’s Day – why else?
MYSELF: How stupid of me. Saint Pat, the owld snake-charmer himself. Why else would we Poltroons adopt the gaelic brogue, drape ourselves in shamrocks and pretend we are WB Yeats or Brendan Behan for one day a year?
READER: Well I never heard of those two lads but I’ve always had such a gas on St Paddy’s I’ve decided to become Irish permanently.
MYSELF: Well there’s no doubt it’s a grand owld craic of a day but let’s face it – we’re all going to know it’s just you wearing that floppy green felt hat, and not the genuine article at all. And Toby – that’s not even Irish! What’s your new surname then? O’Reilly? Finnigan? Hoolahan? McGuinness?
MYSELF: Toby Shaw?
READER: Indeed, so it is. Toby Shaw.
PCWorld (n) Parallel universe featured in the graphic novels of Ruud van Smoot where no-one understands how computers work.
Wikipedia (n). Having a dyslexic sexual interest in New Zealanders
READER: I don’t get the second one.
MYSELF: Don’t worry, we’re here all ewek
MUTTON DRESSED AS SLAB
Speaking of New Zealand, a mouth-watering tourist brochure popped through my door last Thursday headed thus: COME TO NEW ZEALAND – WHERE THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH LAMB.
More than intrigued, I decided to investigate. A sleepy village on the North Island of our former colony turned out to be the source of this unusual slogan. The hamlet of Whatuwhiwhi (pop: 988), with its tiny whitewashed wooden chapel, cosy communal pub, and 10,935,000 acre sheep farm, was catapulted to notoriety by its forward thinking mayor Wilf, “Woolly” Walloon. With local budgets being slashed and municipal belts being tightened, this outspoken sheep farmer had the radical money-saving idea of repairing the town’s potholed roads and revolting dog-fouled sidewalks with thick slabs of preserved lamb rather than expensive imported concrete paving. “It came to me in a dream one afternoon” “Woolly” told me over a crackling short-wave radio, “The solution was literally staring me in the face. I realised that by taking advantage of our vast annual sheep surplus, we could save a lot of cash and cure both of Whatuwhiwhi’s municipal problems in one go.” After being interrupted by a brief burst of static he continued “…One, the roads get fixed, and two, everyone knows dogs won’t shit on meat.”
LATEST SOCCER RESULTS
Hobson’s Denture Fixative League (south)
Upper Dicker Macaroons 5 Maidstone Beehive 2
Bexhill Warlocks 6 Piddinghoe Candelabra 3
Pevensey Pharmaceuticals 4 Sedlescombe Woodpeckers 0
Balls Cross Tabernacle 5 Uffingham Rubbernecks 7
Eastbourne Lemmings 11 Cock Marling Intellectuals 11
Barcombe Limbo 2 Hercemonseaux Cannibals 0
FC Dumbledore vs Yapton Spoonbenders (Late Kick Off)
Celebrity tattle from the tittlesphere
Perusing Facebook the other day in the vain hope of seeing something useful, I noted a post stating that Mr Dene Betteridge, frontman of 80s novelty band Black Lace had been forced to perform Agadoo for fellow inmates while serving a prison sentence. “When these terrifying criminals tell you to do something you do it.” he is reported to have said.
Agadoo? I couldn’t help thinking, I’ve never heard it called that before.
Ed Sheeran has named his fifteenth child Stenna Sealink in honour of the ferry company which recently returned a mobile phone which in 2006 he had left on a ferry from Bruges, where he had attended a stag night. “To say I’m relieved would be an understatement” the Ginger Whinger told us, “some of the photos on there were irreplaceable”
Lady Gaga has revealed that the infamous beef wellingtons she wore at the 2017 Superbowl are not actually made from cows, but Quorn Mince, carefully rolled out into workable sheets and sewn together in Albuquerque by environmentally sustainable Mexican migrants.
SCIENCE IS GORDON
I popped round to Professor Thinktank’s laboratory the other day to see if the prolific Hastings inventor had anything new up his sleeve. When I arrived he was demonstrating the prototype of his cordless remote controlled Hoovadrone – a portable device for vacuuming swallow’s nests – to a group of fascinated Chinese industrial spies. As they eagerly photographed the Hoovadrone blueprint from several angles, I spotted what looked like a new patent application pinned to the notice board.
Once the Chinese delegation had left, the professor, sensing my interest, invited me to inspect his latest ingenious device, The Gordon Thinktank Combination Golf Putter and Metal Detector.
“This,” he explained, taking what looked like an ordinary golf club from a nearby bag “will enable the user to seamlessly combine two spectacularly boring hobbies into one. And that’s not all.”
Indicating a cunningly concealed control panel on the handle, he said with a conspiratorial wink: “Lost your nine iron? Simple – just flip the switch and find it with your putter!”
ASK DR GUANO
The usual pot-pourri of postal puerility appears to have piled up on my desk this past fortnight, so I sprinkled them with millet and got my budgerigar Wensleydale to peck out a letter at random:
Dear Dr Guano,
We have examined your column with a very strong magnifying glass, and can find no mention of conjuring tricks, illusions, or anything relating to the art of legerdemain. Why so? Is there some shameful incident from your childhood we should know about? Were you sawn in half by a drunken uncle perhaps? Or persuaded to peer up the billowing sleeves of a lascivious aunt, who then produced, out of thin air, a suggestively shaped vegetable? Sir, we sympathise, but surely deep psychological scars are no reason to ignore the fascinating world of magic?
Mr Sinistro & Maureen
I took a deep breath and replied thus:
Dear Mr Sinistro & Maureen,
I would refer you to Magic, Illusion and Bedwetting written by the Norwegian child psychologist Liv Ljernsennbjorg, a disciple of Jung. In it, she advances the highly plausible theory that the German invasion of Poland in 1939 which led to the declaration of World War Two, was entirely attributable to an incident in Herr Hitler’s youth when he was given a Harry Houdini Junior Magic Kit for his seventh birthday without the instructions. Having failed to master that trick where you produce a scale model of the Eiffel Tower from a dove, The Führer later went on to subjugate all of Europe
Dr Guano & Brenda
READER: How do they do that trick anyway?
MYSELF: My Magic Circle oath forbids me to say.
ASK WENDY WILL BE BACK NEXT ISSUE
WENDY IS CURRENTLY HELPING THE CHARITY GUARD DOGS FOR THE RICH, WHICH ALSO PROVIDES ARMS TO SAUDI ARABIA