SAUSAGE Life 317

Bird Guano’s
SAUSAGE LIFE
The column which is suspicious of tortoises because they seem to have something to hide

READER: Aren’t you proud of Sir Kier? I mean as you know I’ve always voted for The British Gravytrain Party, but surely this magnificent demonstration of soft shoe diplomacy is going to anoint him as the greatest PM since sliced bread?

MYSELF: There’s nothing great about sliced bread you buffoon. Furthermore, approaching that blundering, bullying, fat, orange-tinted, incoherent, uneducated, American tourist oaf, on his knees clutching a bunch of flowers and a signed invitation to the captain’s table is one of the most revolting, emetic pieces of creepy pantomime I have ever witnessed.

READER: You’re never satisfied, are you?

MYSELF: As the blind prostitute said to the mechanical sailor.

ASK DR. GUANO
Unqualified advice for the unsuspecting
Dear Dr Guano,
I am thinking about becoming a voice over artist on radio commercials to see if I can milk the last cow before AI kicks in. Do you have any advice?
Ivy Poisson,
Dungsaddling

Dear Ivy,
Douglas Pancake’s invaluable manual How To Be A Successful Radio Voice Over Artist describes the basics in chapter one, Selling Your Soul. Here are a couple of invaluable tips:

If you are a man selling highly processed nutrition-free ersatz food, always try and sound as though you are a grossly overweight, terminally obese glutton, and have just finished one cheesy bacony double sized cheeseburger with extra bacony bacon and extra cheesy cheese, yet would still like to gorge on another two.
If you are promoting a gambling product or a car leasing scheme, impersonate the type of downtrodden henpecked uneducated moron who wouldn’t know how many (if any) beans make five and whose only ambition is to make friends with a crocodile or buy some magic beans.
If you are a lady (as I am sure you are) and you wish to recommend a team of ambulance-chasing solicitors to those who have been injured at work, or advise rich people about dental implants, always hold your nose and talk like Beverly from Abigail’s Party.
If it’s a cruise ship holiday of a lifetime you’re flogging, imagine you’ve inhaled a balloonful of Nitrous Oxide and have just found a £50 note behind the sofa.

Good luck!
Dr A Guano AA, RAC

VOTESWAGON SCANDAL
Outspoken Upper Dicker MP Hermione Smegma, who famously tried to claim her husband’s sex change operation as a legitimate parliamentary expense is in trouble again, this time with the UK trading standards authority. She has had the whip removed and is in danger of triggering a bi-election(sic), after allegations emerged that she was secretly fitted with an illegal piece of Chinese software designed to hoodwink government inspectors. The tiny chip, implanted in the lower lip, conceals the true emission levels of clichéd sound bites, diversionary half-truths, general hot air and horseshit. By all accounts this may be merely the tip of a Titanic-style iceberg, and many more Westminster motormouths are thought to be under investigation. One devastated voterist, Mr Dirk Technic (43) retorted; “I have always put my faith in solid British political engineering. All this has come as a terrible shock.”

FORK OFF SHORTARSE 
Fake magician plans to get Nigel Farage elected using telepathy  
Uri Geller, the Israeli spoon bender and fake psychic, is appealing to the British public to help him untarnish the reputation of revolting beer-swilling fag fan Nigel Farage by asking us to send telepathic messages directly to Sir Kier Starmer’s brain. In an open letter to all British newspapers, reportedly written on perfumed paper using an ordinary non-psychic pen, he has declared that he intends to employ his special powers to prevent the UK population from noticing that Mr Farage is an unmitigated self-aggrandising piece of shit.
He plans is to transmit psychic energy into the PM’s brain twice a day from a secret location (42a, Nostradamus Crescent, Chipping Norton) at 11.11am and 11.11pm (a “very mystical time”). This, claimed the tableware-menacing windbag, will cause Sir Kier to sign a document giving Donald Trump full membership of all UK golf clubs. He will also visualise The Labour Leader dancing in front of Vladimir Putin wearing a diaphanous pink negligée and leather thigh length kitten-heel boots – but this, he says, is his “second choice”.
“What a lot of people are unaware of,” continued the pouting guru of gullibility, “is that unless the UK puts the Reform Party in charge and signs over her sovereignty to the USA, we will be forced to import cheap, unbendable silverware from China, which, let’s face it, is half my act ruined”.
Geller also claimed that he had already successfully penetrated Sir Kier (psychically speaking), when was invited to the future PM’s home in 2023 to advise him about general election strategy. “Once inside, I simply closed my eyes, projected positive healing thoughts and bingo! Two years later he became Prime Minister,” he bragged, “although he did send me a bill for ruining his cutlery”.

PANTOMIME CLOTHES HORSE
Mr. Corbett Leland, CEO of ice cream company Ambler Cornet 99 and chairman of The Institute for The Institution of the Ethical Institute of Business Research Group (UK), officially opened Upper Dicker’s latest retail outlet Bashful Narcissus earlier this month. Its brightly coloured stock , designed to be worn once (not near a naked flame) and then thrown away, is manufactured in Bangladesh where abandoned orphans fashion garments from HydroPolymorphyloid Asbestolene, a highly inflammable petroleum derivative which glows in the dark. A spokesperson for Bashful Narcissus explained: “Every item in our fast fashion range is completely disposable and must be discarded immediately after wearing, as exposure to soapy water tends to make it dangerously toxic and liable to cause hallucinations.”
Abergail Sparty, an unemployed waitress of Lower Dicker spent the night in a sleeping bag outside Bashful Narcissus, ready to pounce on an opening day bargain as soon as Lord Mayor the Right Worshipful Derek Windfarm cut the ribbon at 9am.
“It was well worth the overnight stay on a freezing cold pavement smelling of urine in order to be first in the queue.” she declared, “It’s practically impossible to buy proper disposable clothes where I live, it’s all wool and cotton, which is so last year. I have been forced to wash clothes for the last twelve months,” she complained, “instead of being able to dump them late at night, next to a recycling point”.
Eileen proudly showed me the huge lead-lined designer bag (£20) containing dresses, tops and accessories she had purchased from Bashful Narcissus that morning, adding: “I have spent well over £12 on cheap, garish items of clothing today, all of which I fully intend to throw away the minute they are unwrapped.”

Sausage Life!

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)

Click image to connect. Alice’s Crazy Moon is an offbeat monthly podcast hosted by Alice Platt (BBC, Soho Radio) with the help of roaming reporter Bird Guano a.k.a Colin Gibson (Comic Strip Presents, Sausage Life). Each episode will centre around a different topic chosen by YOU the listener! The show is eclectic mix of music, facts about the artists and songs and a number of surrealistic and bizarre phone-ins and commercials from Bird Guano. Not forgetting everyones favourite poet, Big Pillow!

NB: IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A PAID SUBSCRIPTION TO SPOTIFY, THE SONGS WILL BE OF RESTRICTED LENGTH

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

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 kept in a secret underhand bunker in the basement of the Vatican.

https://vimeo.com/user129836501

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