Queen's Visit To Nottingham

Imagine my horror: Knowing that The Queen was visiting my home town of Nottingham today to open something we probably don't want(like a tractor factory or Prince Edward or something), and knowing that the flightpath of the royal helicopter would lead her directly over my house, I prepared myself to strike a decisive victory for democracy.
Both my parents are French*, and they recently passed to me our most valued family heirloom, the very guillotine once used to decapitate Louis XVI! I could feel the regicidal power of this monarch hating super weapon boiling away beneath it's utilitarian exterior, so I readied myself to help it relive it's 18th century heyday one last time by firing it at the royal flight as it passed overhead. I hefted the guillotine onto my shoulder, and aimed it directly at the Q's helicopter and(knowing that my aim was straight and true) depressed the release catch.
Nothing happened.
Of course, what my parents failed to tell me, is that the guillotine is a gravity powered weapon which is only useful for murdering monarchs who's heads are BELOW the height of it's flashing blade at the point of release.
When I say 'nothing happened', I do of course mean 'I condemned us to another thousand years of chinless tyranny'. Sorry about that.


*Not true.

I see that David Cameron has criticised Prince William for not doing enough to earn his privileged lifestyle. No really, David Cameron......

......the man born with a silver yacht up his arse, who's failing in his difficult job of not being even worse at running the country than New Labour.

You are what you eat, and she ate Mariah Carey

I don't know about you, but I very much enjoyed last night's 'You Are What You Eat: Celebrity Special' featuring Mariah Carey. I don't think any of us were surprised when Gillian McKeith examined Mariah's stool sample and found that the empty-headed Ameriwarbler had mistakenly shat out yet another god-awful dinner party power ballad. For God's sake Gillian, put it back up. PUT IT BACK UP!

 Picture shows Mariah Carey taking a Tom Tit in readiness for the show.

Jubilee Concert: Prince Philip Plays Dead

I think we can all understand Prince Philip's brilliant idea of pretending to have a bladder infection on this, the most tedious day so far of The Queen's sixty years in charge of this nasty little country. Palace sources claim that the palace sauce himself has been taken to hospital as a precautionary measure. A precautionary measure against the wily old bastard dusting off his elephant gun and taking a few pot-shots at the various slices of nob cheese who will be performing at this evening's Jubilee concert no doubt. Perhaps these performers would do well to remember that The Queen and Prince Philip were young approximately seventy-five years ago and as such, are unlikely to give a shit about them. Even though our entire royal family does a very good job of appearing to be almost unbelievably dim, I don't think that even The Q-Unit In Chief herself is dim enough to want to watch Gary fucking Barlow wheeled out in his fat-suit for the whole nation to patriotically hate/ignore.
Nice one Philip, give the nurse one from me will ya? Ya fecking dirty old genius you.

When a colleague asked me if I watched Sky News last night, I decided not to tell him that, although I am proud that I am not thick enough to watch Sky News, I am ashamed that I am thick enough to work with someone who does.

I have applied for planning permission to build a grassy knoll outside Downing Street. I just hope that the customers at my new high powered rifle shop opposite the mental hospital aren't too mental to put two and two together. I have also constructed a deserted Book Depository which coincidentally has excellent views of Rupert Murdoch.

No, I don't know what a 'knoll' is either, but I know it's going to be grassy.

Did you know that the reason men and women hold hands is nothing to do with love? It's to do with women needing to hang on to something because they can't walk properly in their stupid shoes.

 Women: Buy some proper shoes.

Putting the 'bile' into 'Jubilee'.

I would like to take this opportunity to express on behalf of the nation, the gratitude that we all feel for the magnificent sixty year reign of The Big Q. We could all do well to remember that The Q-Unit spends very little of her royal time floating down The Thames on a golden barge, in fact she very rarely leaves her bed chamber at all, where she spends most of her time laying the millions of eggs from which all English speaking people are born.
So next time you think about making some smart-arsed comment on our mentally ill royal family, just remember HMtheQ stuck in Buck Palace firing eggs out of her cod-cannon like a Bangkok lady-boy with a brand new man-clam and a fresh bucket of ping-pong balls.
I for one am dreading that fateful day when our illustrious leader finally pops her clogs and the sky darkens when, as one, the entire population of The Commonwealth rises up into the air to form a giant swarm in order to locate a new Queen.