Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.
Tag Archives: London
Dear Mr Simpson, Conservative MP for London South West
The other morning I was woken up by the heavy footsteps of the postman as he trudged his way towards my front door. He must have been very excited as he shoved something through my letterbox really hard; well it was either that or he tripped up on the cat that usually lies across the driveway. Actually, I think that is the more likely scenario because I heard him swear at something and nobody has seen the cat for two days now.
When I first picked the leaflet up off the mat I was struck with just how fresh it felt, especially when some of the red ink rubbed off on my hand. To me this is a good sign because if I go into the bakers to buy a knotted roll, I want those yummy glazed sesame seeds to flake off as I pick it up. The loose ink on your leaflet is an endearing feature that gives me the impression that you like bread, just as I do. This is both reassuring and educational, as I have always wondered what politicians feed themselves during their time at Westminster; up until now I had always thought it was a combination of coffee and bullshit.
When I opened the leaflet I was drawn to the faux-professionalism of its contents. Dearest constituent it said, reminding me of just how serious politics is. It also reminded me of that time when the bank sent me a birthday card addressed To the account holder. Although it was only four words I felt as if my bank manager had personally popped round to say “We’ve got your personal details and your money, so fuck you.” Likewise, your leaflet referring to me as a constituent is a firm reminder that if I’m unhappy with what you’re doing, no matter how much you may have licked my arse to get me to vote for you in the first place, you won’t put up with any kind of rebellious nonsense from me. I confess to preferring my overlords to be firm, powerful and jealously paranoid, and you seem to fit the bill perfectly.
I especially liked the photo that was on page two of the leaflet of you standing there in someone’s front garden. The lawn was long enough to avoid alienating any crop-growing farmers, yet also short enough to show off the tasteful tartan slippers that the middle aged woman standing next to you was wearing. I obviously don’t know whether she was a constituent or your mother but she looked suitably terrified of your limp and clammy hands and of the sycophantic grin that was plastered across your chubby face. I must say, I was impressed with how lush and healthy the grass looked. If I was a dog I definitely wouldn’t want to ruin it by squatting down and taking a shit on it. Instead, I would do my business in the middle of the pavement and then go onto the grass to do that funny thing that some dogs do when they clean their arse by dragging themselves across the floor.
Unfortunately I’m not a dog so would it be okay if I came to your house and shit all over your doorstep instead?
George Lucas’ legal team was on a PR offensive last night when news leaked out that the multi-millionaire Star Wars franchise owner might be an anteater. A witness has claimed that she saw him acting strangely in a London restaurant at the weekend. “I was sat at my table when out of the corner of my eye I saw Lucas bend down and a long, thin tongue started protruding from his mouth. At first I thought it might just be a loose bit of spaghetti, but then it started moving around on the floor as if it was looking for some small insects.”
Restaurant owner Marvin Marv confirmed that his establishment were aware of the rumour and he wanted to reassure patrons that they don’t allow any animals in the dining area. When asked if it was true that Lucas had been seen scratching and grooming himself at his table, Marvin responded with “I cannot confirm or deny that at this time.”
Regular movie-goer Fran Rogers stated that it is a well-kept secret that something isn’t quite right with George Lucas. “For instance, have you ever seen him eat an apple? Or even a pear? If you look at the mouth of an anteater there’s no way something like that would fit in its snout, so it makes sense that Lucas wouldn’t try to eat one. And what about a satsuma? No way would an anteater be able to peel one of those.”
A spokesman for Rentokil stated that they received an emergency callout request from a London eatery at the weekend, but that they are still awaiting test results before being able to confirm anything. “I can state that we cordoned off an area once we discovered evidence of claw marks on the floor and on one of the tables.”
“We recovered a long thin ivory-coloured object that could be either a claw or a beansprout.”
Local pigeons have been causing “Mayhem and panic,” in a popular park in London this week. Professional busker Mark Lawrenson was “Just getting warmed up,” when a pigeon unexpectedly “landed on the ground.” Mark was upset because “This is a bloody good busking spot,” and “I had to wipe the mouth organ clean again because I dropped it on the grass during the panic.”
Observer Sue Wall said “He was just getting to the good bit in ‘How much is that doggy in the window?’ when that horrible pigeon flew down and tried to pick up a bit of bread. I was sending a text message to my daughter and I pressed the wrong key by accident; I hope she realises I meant tea-set and not tea-sex.”
Wild animals have often been the bane of Londoners lives over the years as pampered urbanites meet nature in a clash of wills. A squirrel caused a stir on Comic Relief Day when it approached a mime artist and “wildly flicked its tail,” before “scrabbling up a tree.”
Grieving pet owner Katie Wand told us of her experience with a feathered monster: “I saw what I thought was my dead cat’s spirit coming towards me in the form of a beautiful, white dove. I reached out and it landed next to me on the bench and then flew off again. I was distraught with grief and anger when someone told me it was just a bloody pigeon.”