Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.

Tag Archives: france

A day in the life of Morrissey


My farts smell better than yours.

Hi, fans.  This week has been a bit of an odd one for me.  When I opened my front door this morning, I was rather shocked to see that the world wasn’t on fire.  I mean, it’s been at least three days since a journalist last asked my opinion on something, so naturally I assumed that something bad was happening.  As it happens, the last time I experienced such a lull of interest was when Princess Diana’s spleen was being smeared halfway across a highway in Paris.

Actually, that reminds me: I’m sick and tired of seeing her sons living the high life at our expense.  I’d love nothing more than to be able arrange for some scum-sucking parasites to chase my own mother down a French road in the middle of the night, if it meant I got to live in a big palace for the rest of my life.  However, that’s not an option available to us ordinary, hard-working folk who don’t have the luxury of relying on our past glories to make a few quid every now and then.

The other day I stepped out into my back garden, and accidentally trod on a snail.  Although he was technically trespassing, I actually felt sorry for the little blighter and I’ve decided to write a song in his memory.  This is what I’ve got so far:

I treaded on a snail

He made a noisy squish

We could have been buddies

He went nicely with my tuna salad dish

It’s still early days, but you can feel the emotional trauma coming off it in waves already.  I’m yet to commit to a name for it, as it’s all about getting the right balance between artistic integrity and the whole ‘Ooooh, me guts were squished on the floor and now I’m dead’ vibe.

I reckon I might settle with calling it Diana.

Queen Elizabeth II reviews Bambi

This feature-length film was first brought to one’s The Queenattention by way of a written message sometime in 1963 and one is sad to report that one has not had the time to view it until now. For those that are unaware, Bambi is the work of the man who built those Disney theme parks and who also placed numerous Bambi-branded Thermos flasks on the shelves of corner shops and discount wholesalers all across the globe. It is my understanding that Disney also invented Mickey Mouse and one cannot help but notice that Bambi and Mickey Mouse have something in common: they are both animals. Not being one to believe in coincidences, one has to wonder what to make of this fact and is something for one to ponder at length.

In the film there is a ghastly little rabbit called Thumper. One quickly realises that he is not a character to be taken literally as he is clearly an allegory for a particularly naughty corgi dog that one once owned. On many an occasion, my servant would feed some gin to this dog which would case it to run around like a crazy ferret. Although one found this jolly amusing the first few times it quickly became tiresome and I instructed the servant to remove him from the premises immediately. One can only imagine that Thumper would make horrendous company if one were to ever share a horse-drawn carriage or chariot with him. When the film had finished it was pointed out to me that Thumper is an animal, just like Bambi and Mickey Mouse are; one has to consider what was going on in the head of Disney at this time.

There was a bit in the film where Bambi’s father turns around and leaves him on his lonesome. One was immediately struck by the similarity of the time I was in France and some French berk of a waiter ignored me when I asked for another plate of olives. Clearly, Disney is familiar with the peculiar French arrogance and one has to admire his attempt at immortalising and satirising it on the big screen. Whilst on the subject of France, one feels it is pertinent to point out that Nicholas Sarkozy has a wonky face. When one is in his company, it is most unsettling as one is constantly under the impression that he is about to sneeze. He once tried to make a joke about whether one had ever considered wearing one’s crown backwards.

I made it quite clear that one was not amused.

France, my country, is wonderful. Brits and Yanks, they steal from us.

Bonjour, I am Pierre and my motto is Vive la France! France isberet so amazing that we are currently on our Fifth Republic. Those stupid Brits and Yankees copied us so we went lots better and had many more revolutions than they did; ha! In my native France I love eating pickled onions as they are so tasty and nice. I have one with breakfast of croissant, red wine, and cheese. Sometimes I even have TWO pickled onions. If I brew pickled onion for long enough and it look handsome enough, I nail it to front door of house so I am greeted by it each time I come home from having big sex in street. You should come visit one day, is nice. If you are a Brit or a Yankee, you can’t stay more than one hour in case you steal from me.

Have you seen television? In case you don’t know television is like radio but in a box with moving picture. At first I thought it pixie theatre but after turning it off and on many times I never catch pixies in middle of toilet or resting. If I was in a pixie theatre I would write play about France culture habit of having big sex in street. Television was invented in France in 1985 and now nearly everyone has one. We keep the recipe a secret so no-one else in world has a TV and we make them very heavy so no-one can steal them. If I came home to find Brit and Yankee taking Polaroid photo of TV to steal idea I would bop their noses off. Polaroid was invented in France as well, I think in 1982 or 1923, I not really sure.

I did student exchange with Brit school many years ago. They had competition with conkers so I entered with pickled onion. Pickled onion is tough but rubbery, so they couldn’t break it no matter what they try. I not win because pickled onion not hard enough but I not lose either. I ended my year there with no loses in conkers competition and they bastards who not even give me medal or scarf or socks for a prize.

While I was there someone broke into my locker many times I think to try to steal my pickled onions. It was Brit school in Brit so it was probably Brit thief. I out fooled them by keeping onions in my pockets at all times so I can touch them, feel them, stroke them, and then smell my fingers afterwards. Smell is nice and many Brit badgers and weasels think so too, because they followed me every day. I wondered if Brit animals are thieves, too, so I stayed up a tree most days.

Next year I look forward to getting colour TV when they invented by French TV inventors.

French President says that Israeli PM is a ‘compulsive fryer’


French President Nicolas Sarkozy complimented Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s culinary skills during a recent gathering of world leaders. He said that Benjamin would “Definitely be in his element if he worked somewhere like McDonalds,” as he “Has got a good eye for detail,” and can also “work well under pressure.”

Benjamin is “A man with big arms who could easily lift at least two bags of chips at once, maybe even three, during peak times,” and “If the way he uses his iPhone is anything go by,” the Israeli would have “no trouble at all getting to grips with the till.” In fact, he could “Probably work unsupervised within a couple of weeks,” and maybe even “Promoted to a two-star server before his probation period is over.”


Nicolas recounted his own younger days working at Le Garlic ‘n’ Chips where he was “Promoted to team leader very quickly,” and boasted how he “revolutionised things by moving the fryer nearer the grill,” so that it was possible to “keep an eye on the burgers and the chips when pouring a banana milkshake.”

Benjamin is “An excellent host,” but is “clearly not a fan of Monty Python’s Life of Brian.” A fish casserole was served up for dinner and afterwards someone remarked “That piece of halibut was good enough for Jehovah!” Obama, Sarkozy and David Cameron, “All laughed and spent the next ten minutes listing what the Romans did for us,” whilst Benjamin “Just sat there with a face as long a horse.”

“He was probably more of an eat-out guy than someone who would sit in and chat with his friends”.

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