WikiLeaks latest... the Pope may be Catholic/November 30th 2010.
Richie - I was snoozing in my comfy chair after breakfast when Mrs Bob No 3, my Thai wife, came running in to the lounge holding a substantial-looking document. "Wob!" she squealed. "ShamCam n Cleggy have sent govt happy form for us to fill in! I so so happy alweddy!" As you can imagine, Rich, Mrs Bob has been eagerly awaiting the ConDem govts 'happy survey' so that she can officialy tell them what a pig's ear they're making of things. However, upon closer inspection I realised the document was in fact a hitherto unreleased Wikileaks dossier giving details of US diplomatic messages regarding British journalists. I opened it and read the first entry. 'SUBJECT/NOFORN. From: Troy Eagleburger CIA op London. To: Langley HQ. Dated: 1/11.08 Name redacted. Subject writes 2 x weekly column in national daily. Right wing fruitcake of highest order. Obsessed with garbage collection, Gordon Brown, and gays. Compared to Tolstoy but closer to Toys R Us! Threat level zero.' Mad these Wikileaks I say!
Tuesday
Thursday
Justice stabbed in the heart by yuman rites/November 26th 2010.
Richie - In keeping with ShamCam's fruitcake idea of the Big Society I took up my clip-board, donned my elf n safety goggles, and went off to find out if people were happy or not. I must say the response wasn't good and my survey soon changed tack, ditching the question of happiness and asking folk instead what made them feel so depressed. Of course, the unelected ConDems came top, closely followed by bankers, the weather, and those nutty reality tv stars that seem to dominate our screens. But the name of one group cropped up with alarming regularity. Old Mrs Thomas from No 75 summed em up a treat. "Ooh, those Right-Wing windbags in the media get right up my goat!" she said with a huff. "With their badly-researched, overwhelmingly biased columns they terrify the heebie-jeebies out of poor old folk like me!" If only Wisteria had the power to sack the Right Wing whingers and moaners the world it seems would be a better place. What do you reckon Richie ? Richie ? Are you there, Rich...?
Richie - In keeping with ShamCam's fruitcake idea of the Big Society I took up my clip-board, donned my elf n safety goggles, and went off to find out if people were happy or not. I must say the response wasn't good and my survey soon changed tack, ditching the question of happiness and asking folk instead what made them feel so depressed. Of course, the unelected ConDems came top, closely followed by bankers, the weather, and those nutty reality tv stars that seem to dominate our screens. But the name of one group cropped up with alarming regularity. Old Mrs Thomas from No 75 summed em up a treat. "Ooh, those Right-Wing windbags in the media get right up my goat!" she said with a huff. "With their badly-researched, overwhelmingly biased columns they terrify the heebie-jeebies out of poor old folk like me!" If only Wisteria had the power to sack the Right Wing whingers and moaners the world it seems would be a better place. What do you reckon Richie ? Richie ? Are you there, Rich...?
Tuesday
Oi, Bish... 'Er Indoors at Buck House wants a word/November 23rd 2010.
Richie - I was lying in bed reading the latest instalment of the Coulsen fiasco when Mrs Bob No 3 started giving the feisty Bishop a right good bashing. As a Thai national she has a mystical, divine reverence for royalty and can't understand the Briish attitude towards the Windsors. "Why this man say bad things about Big Willie and Waity Katie ?" she asked. I tried to explain that the fruity God-botherer of Willesden occupied the liberal wing of the C of E but of course this only confused her further and I spent the next hour or so giving a potted history of our religion from the building of Stonehenge onwards. Needless to say my ramblings sent her into a deep slumber so the next day I invited happy clappy Rev Crisp of this parish round for tea and cake to help Mrs Bob grasp the finer points. "In a nutshell" he sighed "we Brits are agnostic towards our church and somewhat catholic towards our monarchy" before smiling meekly and helping himself to a third slice of Battenburg! Mad innit!
Richie - I was lying in bed reading the latest instalment of the Coulsen fiasco when Mrs Bob No 3 started giving the feisty Bishop a right good bashing. As a Thai national she has a mystical, divine reverence for royalty and can't understand the Briish attitude towards the Windsors. "Why this man say bad things about Big Willie and Waity Katie ?" she asked. I tried to explain that the fruity God-botherer of Willesden occupied the liberal wing of the C of E but of course this only confused her further and I spent the next hour or so giving a potted history of our religion from the building of Stonehenge onwards. Needless to say my ramblings sent her into a deep slumber so the next day I invited happy clappy Rev Crisp of this parish round for tea and cake to help Mrs Bob grasp the finer points. "In a nutshell" he sighed "we Brits are agnostic towards our church and somewhat catholic towards our monarchy" before smiling meekly and helping himself to a third slice of Battenburg! Mad innit!
Thursday
A very British Royal Wedding... and the bride wore a burka!/November 19th 2010.
Richie - This week rekindled memories of Chaz n Di's big day in 1981. Young Wob Boberts, along with the girl who would eventually become Mrs Bob No 1, cut dashing New Romantic figures then, with bouncy quiffs and spangly buccaneer trousers and walkmans that constantly played Spandau Ballet and ABC. In those days I drove a souped-up Ford Escort (complete with fluffy dice and halogen spots) and like many patriotic young couples on July 29th we headed off along the M40 to experience the great event first hand. Disaster struck, though, at Banbury when the escort blew a gasket! Left high and dry a Cornish pig farmer offered passage in the back of his truck to Swindon bus station. But the heat of the journey lulled us into slumber next to the porkers and we woke up in Newquay, clothes smeared in dung and quiffs askew! The rest of the day was spent near-starkers on an idyllic beach which, thanks to the royal nupitals, remained pleasantly deserted! All in all, a right royal day out, I say!
Richie - This week rekindled memories of Chaz n Di's big day in 1981. Young Wob Boberts, along with the girl who would eventually become Mrs Bob No 1, cut dashing New Romantic figures then, with bouncy quiffs and spangly buccaneer trousers and walkmans that constantly played Spandau Ballet and ABC. In those days I drove a souped-up Ford Escort (complete with fluffy dice and halogen spots) and like many patriotic young couples on July 29th we headed off along the M40 to experience the great event first hand. Disaster struck, though, at Banbury when the escort blew a gasket! Left high and dry a Cornish pig farmer offered passage in the back of his truck to Swindon bus station. But the heat of the journey lulled us into slumber next to the porkers and we woke up in Newquay, clothes smeared in dung and quiffs askew! The rest of the day was spent near-starkers on an idyllic beach which, thanks to the royal nupitals, remained pleasantly deserted! All in all, a right royal day out, I say!
Monday
Next time the Chandlers should stick to the Solent/November 16th 2010.
Richie - How right you are to criticise this bonkers couple who sailed into pirate-infested waters! However, the Chandler's plight reminded me of the story of Great-grandpop Roberts who went on missionary work in darkest Africa back in the late 1800s. He too was kidnapped by members of a savage tribe who threatened to cook him in their giant pot unless the good people of Worcester sent them a hundred bags of silver. Well, needless to say, the local populace weren't bothered about the old duffer in the slightest and rejoiced that it would put an end to his insufferable street-corner preaching. But Great-grandpop Roberts proved a redoubtable customer and managed to secure his release just as the pot began to bubble! What's more he lived out his remaining years with his captors and sired twenty three offspring which is why to this day certain African tribes greet one another with the words "I say!" and enjoy a mid-afternoon snooze in their comfy chairs after a snifter or three! Mad innit!
Richie - How right you are to criticise this bonkers couple who sailed into pirate-infested waters! However, the Chandler's plight reminded me of the story of Great-grandpop Roberts who went on missionary work in darkest Africa back in the late 1800s. He too was kidnapped by members of a savage tribe who threatened to cook him in their giant pot unless the good people of Worcester sent them a hundred bags of silver. Well, needless to say, the local populace weren't bothered about the old duffer in the slightest and rejoiced that it would put an end to his insufferable street-corner preaching. But Great-grandpop Roberts proved a redoubtable customer and managed to secure his release just as the pot began to bubble! What's more he lived out his remaining years with his captors and sired twenty three offspring which is why to this day certain African tribes greet one another with the words "I say!" and enjoy a mid-afternoon snooze in their comfy chairs after a snifter or three! Mad innit!
Thursday
Toytown Trots, Twitter and the Trumpton riots/November 12th 2010.
Richie - Yesterday I helped my artistocratic neighbour Lady Tabitha Wilmot-Brown decorate her home for Xmas. Beautiful Lady Tab, a crypto-anarchist of the highest order, had just returned from the Millbank riot. While I held the ladder - and she attached festive figures of Marx and Engels to her grade 2 listed manor - Tab told me all about her fun-packed day. "It was glorious, Bob darling" she purred. "After the demo I met with friends in Mayfair and we went for a scrumptious meal at Le Gavroche before partying the night away at Stringfellows! Why didn't you tag along, you old trout ?" I must admit, Richie, as I peered up the ladder and spied the shapely form of Lady Tab's derriere it was difficult to engage in meaningful conversation. "Not to worry sweetie" she sighed. "Plenty more riots against the vile ConDems next year. Now, is Trotters looking ok peeps ?" at which point her inflatable neon Trotsky lit up and the Song of the Volga Boatmen blared out from a giant pair of speakers!
Richie - Yesterday I helped my artistocratic neighbour Lady Tabitha Wilmot-Brown decorate her home for Xmas. Beautiful Lady Tab, a crypto-anarchist of the highest order, had just returned from the Millbank riot. While I held the ladder - and she attached festive figures of Marx and Engels to her grade 2 listed manor - Tab told me all about her fun-packed day. "It was glorious, Bob darling" she purred. "After the demo I met with friends in Mayfair and we went for a scrumptious meal at Le Gavroche before partying the night away at Stringfellows! Why didn't you tag along, you old trout ?" I must admit, Richie, as I peered up the ladder and spied the shapely form of Lady Tab's derriere it was difficult to engage in meaningful conversation. "Not to worry sweetie" she sighed. "Plenty more riots against the vile ConDems next year. Now, is Trotters looking ok peeps ?" at which point her inflatable neon Trotsky lit up and the Song of the Volga Boatmen blared out from a giant pair of speakers!
Monday
And this year's Most Diabolical Recycling Regime award goes to.../November 9th 2010.
Richie - In these tough economic times, and with Slasher Osbourne's cuts on the horizon, the elders of our village have been scratching their wizened heads trying to come up with ideas to raise much-needed revenue. One such idea was the hosting of an awards ceremony. With just about every industry having an annual shin-dig to hand out meaningless prizes these ceremonies have become something of a cash-cow, generating torrents of income for the chosen venue. So, you'll be pleased to hear that our village has decided to host the first Right-Wing Windbag of the Year award! We envisage thousands of Right-Wing loonies from around the globe will attend, not least the complete and utter fruitcakes who make up the ludicrous Tea-Party in the USA! In fact, Richie, as an eminent and much-loved British Right-Wing Windbag, you're our first choice as patron! If you're interested drop me a line at: Bob Roberts, Village Hall, Come-to-Piddle, Worcestershire. Mad in unelected ShamCam's barmy Uk innit!
Richie - In these tough economic times, and with Slasher Osbourne's cuts on the horizon, the elders of our village have been scratching their wizened heads trying to come up with ideas to raise much-needed revenue. One such idea was the hosting of an awards ceremony. With just about every industry having an annual shin-dig to hand out meaningless prizes these ceremonies have become something of a cash-cow, generating torrents of income for the chosen venue. So, you'll be pleased to hear that our village has decided to host the first Right-Wing Windbag of the Year award! We envisage thousands of Right-Wing loonies from around the globe will attend, not least the complete and utter fruitcakes who make up the ludicrous Tea-Party in the USA! In fact, Richie, as an eminent and much-loved British Right-Wing Windbag, you're our first choice as patron! If you're interested drop me a line at: Bob Roberts, Village Hall, Come-to-Piddle, Worcestershire. Mad in unelected ShamCam's barmy Uk innit!
Thursday
Fireworks, gunpowder, treason ... and Plod/November 5th 2010.
Richie - Earlier this week we villagers held our annual pre-bonfire night pow-wow to choose a deserving effigy to burn on the village green and the candidates were many! Gideon Osbourne (the man who stole your retirement years), Wisteria Cameron (the man who sold our military to the French), Iain Dunkin Donut (king of the ideological fruitcakes), Squire Pickles, Fag-Ash Clegg, Danny the Ginger Rodent...the list seemed endless! Deliberations went on until late into the night and several hearty snifters all round were sunk! Eventually, though, a name was chosen. The effigy will be that of a man who is well used to breathing hot air in public; a man whose whingeing and whineing about the police and our public servants is legendary; a man whose lack of research and objectivity is matched only by his bigoted, Right-Wing views. Yes, Richie, congratulations old son! Tonight Lord Littlewon of Windbag Way will grace the top of our village bonfire and what a spectacle it will be! Makes you proud to be British I say!
Richie - Earlier this week we villagers held our annual pre-bonfire night pow-wow to choose a deserving effigy to burn on the village green and the candidates were many! Gideon Osbourne (the man who stole your retirement years), Wisteria Cameron (the man who sold our military to the French), Iain Dunkin Donut (king of the ideological fruitcakes), Squire Pickles, Fag-Ash Clegg, Danny the Ginger Rodent...the list seemed endless! Deliberations went on until late into the night and several hearty snifters all round were sunk! Eventually, though, a name was chosen. The effigy will be that of a man who is well used to breathing hot air in public; a man whose whingeing and whineing about the police and our public servants is legendary; a man whose lack of research and objectivity is matched only by his bigoted, Right-Wing views. Yes, Richie, congratulations old son! Tonight Lord Littlewon of Windbag Way will grace the top of our village bonfire and what a spectacle it will be! Makes you proud to be British I say!
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