Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.
Tag Archives: fascist
Welcome, oglers! Unless you’ve been living in a country with tightly-controlled state media restricting your exposure to celebrity nipple-slips, you’ll have heard all about the Kate Middleton holiday snaps that have been making the rounds. Surprise, surprise, everyone is blaming the photographers again. Let me ask you this: if Miss Middleton didn’t want some overweight, grubby, sex starved, thrice-divorced, middle-aged bloke in khaki shorts taking photos of her tits from half a mile away, why did she grow them in the first place? If there’s one thing that I can’t stand, it’s hypocrisy, and women with breasts are amongst the worst offenders.
Dear Paparazzi John
I was putting the rubbish out the other week, when I thought I saw a leaf blow across my neighbour’s garden. Is this a tell-tale sign of paparazzi activity, or was it just the wind?
Good question! Distraction is a key weapon in the paparazzi armoury, and I’m something of an expert in it. I once hid at the back of my neighbour’s wardrobe, just waiting to get a quick peek of her in that lace nightgown she bought the week before. She somehow heard me, and I had to think quickly. Cats are famous for faffing about in wardrobes, trying on other people’s clothes, so I made a purring noise. Unfortunately, she didn’t actually have a cat, so the ruse didn’t work. I then did an impression of a cow, hoping she would think it was her mobile ring tone, but she still wasn’t fooled. In a last ditch effort, I rolled a marble across the floor to trick her into thinking she had a poltergeist.
Stupid bitch called the police on me. I tell you, if she didn’t want to be seen in her undergarments, why did she buy them from a high street shop? If she wanted to keep it a secret, she should have bought it online and had it delivered when everyone was asleep. In fact, she should forgo the use of clothes entirely if she’s going to be such a prude about being seen wearing them.
Dear Paparazzi John
I’m trying to get into photography, and have some very tasteful photos of my wife, reading in the garden. Would you mind taking a look, and let me know you think?
Woah! Easy, tiger! Artful pictures of a fully-clothed woman? That she consented to? Are you some kind of pervert?
Hmmm, mind you… are her nipples visible through the blouse?