Tuesday, 8 October 2013

Scotland to Break Away From UK Using Wind Turbines

Just a small amount of the proposed turbines
Oor Eck Showing the only way is UP(Literally)

In a shock announcement earlier today, The First Minister has exclusively revealed to your favourite online news source his brilliant plan to literally break Scotland away from the UK.
Shouting from a window in Bute House as he couldn't be arsed bumping into Nicola Sturgeon in the vestibule Mr. Salmond told The Satire..
" I was in the bath listening to Val Doonican's version of 'The Windmills of Your Mind' by Michel Legrand. Great stuff by the way, the production is fantastic. Anyway, It struck me that with the sheer amount of the fucking things we are building already we are, as Bon Jovi has astutely observed, half way there. If we step up the proliferation of the bird killing blight, I am convinced that within a year not only will we generate enough energy to power a small toaster( no more than 2 slice), but enough lift to rip Auld Scotia loose of it's ancient terrestrial fetters. Finally we can truly fly free. Ayyyy thenk yo!!!"
He then shouted "gardyloo!!" and emptied a bedpan left by previous incumbent Jack McConnell, all over us. 
"This is complete and utter madness!" Claimed a passing boffin who seemed to know a bit about turbines and that.
"No amount of turbines will actually create ANY lift at all. In fact it's doubtful how much electricity they will produce. Be that as it may, even if they were in fact giant propellers they will not be able to lift the whole of Scotland. If anything they'll just rip themselves out of the ground and spin about decapitating every fucker. Might I suggest fracking instead?"
"This sounds completely feasible to me." Chipped in environMENTAList and Guardian columnist George Monbiot. "However I believe that Scotland's future lies in still being attached to Great Britain. So I think the turbines should be rigged the other way so that it pushes us closer together."
Scottish Conservative leader and Wee Jimmy Cranky impersonator Ruth Davidson commented..
"I agree with George Monbiot that the UK should not be broken up. But think about the cost of this. For the price we could get a high speed train that runs from Glasgow to Edinburgh 20 minutes faster."
A homeless guy sitting nearby, gave his opinion stating..
" I don't really know much about turbines or the environment and stuff. But maybe we should all calm the fuck down and have a we bit more reasoned debate. Fuck knows! I can't stop shitting in my pants so what do I know?"

Friday, 13 September 2013

OBITUARY: Reverend Dr Julius Emery

(Above: The Revererend Emery yesterday)
The Satire today bids farewell to our Religious Affairs Correspondent the Extremely Reverend Prof Dr Julius Emery, who passed away peacefully in prayer aboard a rocket hurtling into space at a speed of 12000 miles an hour and reaching an inner-hull temperature in excess of 8000 degrees farenheight.
Unfortunately Dr Emery had been mistakenly informed by his medical advisor (Dr Seamus Beejezus O'Flaherty) that merely stripping down to his swimming trunks and sunhat and dabbing on some Factor 12 would be enough to protect him from the excessive heat during launch. This unfortunately proved not to be the case.
Reverend Emery is remembered by the staff and patients of Broadmoor and by the staff and patients here at the offices of The Satire.
He leaves behind the world's largest collection of antique micrscopes (current valuation £26.4m Euros) and a strange Irishman claiming to be his long-lost half-brother and heir to the Emery estate.
Thankfully the vending machine remains intact and is currently sitting in the foyer of The Satire reception area where it continues to dispense molten snacks and beverages to anyone wearing the requisite asbestos clothing and visor.
Bobo the chimp was seen leaving the capsule by parachute shortly before take-off.

Thought For the Day with The Extremely Reverend Prof Dr Julius Emery ...

Good Evening.
You know, when I look around me at the world today, I often see the hand of our Lord at work.
Whether it be the white-faced clown with a single tear running down his face, that young lady tennis player scatching her bare bottoms or that chimp sitting on the lavatory - the Lord's work is there for all to see if we would just look closely enough.
I remember it was with this very idea in mind that I first asked my parents for a microscope for my 5th birthday. It really was a most exciting day and as I unwrapped the paper and lifted the delicate instrument from its cardboard housing, my fingers were trembling with excitement and anticipation.
I remember thinking, if I can just get close enough to the detail, I will surely be able to see the hand of our Lord in action - maybe even gaze upon the face of Yaweh himself.
But it was not to be. The closest I could get was the veins of a leaf - which really wasn't quite the same and I soon became despondent ...
I eventually convinced my parents to buy me a much bigger microscope - but alas even that was not able to see the face of God and I began to fixate on the idea that He was deliberately and maliciously hiding from me.
My parents attempted to console me by re-mortgaging their house, taking out a crippling loan and buying me, at the time, the largest electron microscope in Europe - but it was all to no avail. The Lord's omniscient presence remained veiled from mine eyes, the big beardy twat.
It was then (and only then) that I turned quite violent, railing oh most mightily against the Lord.
"You fucking cunt, why the fuck won't you show yourself you smug fucking wanker. Well, fuck you! And what in the name of holy fuck are you looking at mother? You're nothing more than a spunk receptacle for that old hanging ball-bag who calls himself my father. Fuck both of you. CUNTS, the lot of you!" and so on, I continued.
I must confess gentle listener, the incident almost ruined my 7th birthday party entirely...
And 60 years of therapy later, the ECT, the enforced sectioning and hospitalisation in Broadmoor Secure Hospital - all have alas failed to slake that particular thirst.
But eventually they did let me leave Broadmoor, my head bowed but my search still unfulfilled.
Unfortunately, due to my 'Crimes' The Church of England refused to have me back within the formal ministry, but luckily Mr Laird and Mr Mingles here at the esteemed offices of The Satire welcomed me with open arms (Not literally of course - Mr Laird is notoriously antisocial and Mr Mingles is a well-known germophobe. So they both greeted me from quite a distance away across the long oak-lined corridor outside the main boardroom.)
I did attempt to step forward and thank them both personally but the large gentleman who leaped out from the shadows and smashed the butt of his rifle efficiently into the bridge of my nose made it clear this was not recommended.
And it was whilst working here at The Satire that it occured to me what I had been doing wrong for all these very long years.
Of course the Lord could not 'literally' be found within the natural world. He should of course be sought outside of it - like in all those big paintings with his face looking beneficently down.
What a silly old sausage I had been.
It was with all of this in mind that I launched the Satire Space Programme. To allow me the opportunity to soar off into the Heavens and to fulfill my lifelong dream to see the face of our Lord.
15 years in the construction and with a cost in excess of three thousand pounds (not euros mind you - actual english pounds!) this rocket seems destined to roar into the outer atmosphere beyond the stars and out towards my Maker.
It may takes a few days to reach the Lord of course but I am well-prepared with a vending machine which seems to dispense an endless supply of ready-salted crisps, sweets and fizzy pop - in other words all one needs to survive.
They really are quite miraculous contraptions and in fact the vast majority of our enormous budget went on this astonishing machine - sold to me by a kind old irish gentleman in a public bar.
Nevertheless, the 500 Mighty British Pounds left over is still an exceedingly large sum of money and was more than enough to build the rocket, pay for the fuel and (so I am reliably informed) fully train the elderly chimpanzee who is to be my companion and co-pilot on this marvelous fantastical journey.
So - Bon Voyage, Ship Ahoy, God's Speed and Off We Go!

"The Boys Won't Let Me Plaaay!" Sobs Top Scottish Feminist

Miss MacClinton makes her feelings clear on the Patriarchy not buying her a pony

A top Scottish feminist roared and gret her eyes out at the boys not letting her join in the games yesterday.

Miss Hillary MacClinton(7) of Ravelston Dykes(that's an address not a women's support group) sobbed in the playground..

"I'm so sick and fed up an tired of the boys being mean to me, they never let me play football or soldiers or anything that involves throwing. The only thing they let me play is climbing, so they can see my pants. It's no fair!"

Toby Stevens(8)angrily hit back at her accusations.

"She's just a diva. Whatever that is. She's rubbish at throwing and runs like she's wearing calipers. If she doesn't get her own way she just greets and greets until someone forces us to let her join in. God help us all if she doesn't win. She throws a tantrum. Last week we had a race where the teacher gave her a head start of ten meters. TEN METERS! It was only a 50 meter race for flips sake and she still lost. But she screamed that much that the teacher said Hillary was the real winner and gave her the prize. I'm not playing with her anymore."

Will Graham(6) on the other hand spoke up for Hillary.

"I think she's nice and pretty and I would like to kiss her. Whenever I stand near her I get a warm fuzzy feeling. If I speak up for her and not be like the other boys, she might let me. I think she likes Toby though." He said sadly.

In a shock move the Scottish feminist organisation SWAMT (Scottish Women Against Man Things) made Hillary their Honorary Chairperson yesterday.

"Young Hillary exemplifies the attitudes of the modern feminist and embodies our ethos. We are proud to admit her to our ranks after she finishes her homework." Said SWAMT leader Xena MacHarridan(Still none of your business).

Presenter and women's issues banger onner Kaye Adams(50 and wearing it) waded in.

"As I have been saying on my TV shows, Radio programme and weekly column in the Daily Record, women are denied a voice and have been for to long. Wee Hillary is an example to us all. Mair greetin' and less reasoned debate are what's needed. And you are not seeing MY pants, so there!"

"The boys are beastly, horrible and nasty and smell of poo!" added Hillary.

Hairdresser Sacked for "Lack of Bronzing"

Miss MacGraw outside the Tribunal offices in Bothwell St.  

A Glasgow hairdresser is taking her former employer to a tribunal for Unfair Dismissal claiming she has been "discriminiminated against an' that".

Chavonne MacGraw(19) was dismissed from her position at Celine's Salon, Dennistoun Glasgow in July this year.
According to salon owner/manager Celine McCabe(24), Chavonne was sacked after failing to come up to the standard required for skin tone in the salon.
"We have certain standards in this shoap(sic). It's a' very well being able tae dae folks hair an' that, but in the end if yer skins no orange enough folk'l no respect an trust ye. Chavonne was gave hunners of chances tae get her coupon up tae scratch. She just wisnae tryin. We started a wee lassie fae Bridgeton last Saturday who wis a wee bit peely wally an that. But she's been oan they sunbeds constantly an in jist ane week she's lookin like Tutankhamen. That's dedication fur ye."
Chavonne hit back, "It's no ma fault! It's discriminimination an' that. Av been drinkin' Sunny D like it's gaun oot ae fashion. A spent a fortune oan they sunbeds an fake tan treatments. A jist don't hiv the complexion tae start wi. Whit difference dis it make tae the way a dae ma joab?"
The Satire put Chavonne's surprisingly reasonable seeming question to our madly badly misinformed regular rent-a-quote, Celine customer, and self professed polymath, Maureen MacGlinchie of Parkhead.
"A feel sorry fur the lassie as joabs ur scarce, whit wi hur hivin a record fur shoapliftin an that, bit the rules ur the rules. Don't even think aboot comin near ma Glesga Fair unless ye look like ye personally witnessed the Hiroshima bomb fae a hunner yards away. Ah wid drap this case if a wis hur. As Celine's boyfriend Boaby isnae a man ye want tae trifle wi. There a said it."
Maureen may be referring to Celine's boyfriend Boaby's unorthodox "business" interests and associates.
Boaby "Barlinnie" Lennox from Glasgow's tough Provanmill area, who bought the salon for Celine as a birthday present to "gie his his heid peace."
It's been rumoured he may have had another motive when a recent audit revealed that the tiny salon would have to be processing 712 customers a day to justify the lucrative profits it appears to make.
Miss MacGraw is not without her own connections however, her uncle being a notorious crime lord himself, and there are fears that the situation could escalate into "Tanwars".
The case continues.

Wednesday, 4 September 2013

OBITUARY : RIP Colonel Tommy Pritchard

Tommy as he would often appear at The Satire offices. In later years naked from the waist down

The Satire today bids farewell to its Sports Editor Colonel Tommy Pritchard, who passed away peacefully in his sleep behind the wheel of his 1984 Citroen Clio on the M8.

Born Colonel Thomas Randolph Ambidexter Pritchard of a Scots Presbyterian father and American Quaker mother in Thika Kenya in 1941, "Tommy" spent his formative years among the colonial prosperity of the happy valley set. The title for Elspeth Huxley's novel The Flame Trees...came from the time that young Tommy set fire to a local plantation, ruining the owner. Luckily he managed to blame it on the houseboy who later died in police custody. No formal charges were ever pressed.

Tommy enlisted in the KAR in 1959 where due to a mix up arising from his name he was able to become the youngest ever commanding officer of the 3rd Battalion. In a disaster in the last years of the Mau Mau owing to his complete lack of experience he managed to surround and attack a column of his own askaris and sustain the onslaught for 31 days. On discovering his mistake he slipped out of camp during the night and joined the surrounded troops on the other side. In the confusion he was able to mount a counter attack against those under his former command and overwhelm them. This was recorded as one of the greatest breakouts ever and he was mentioned in dispatches leading to him being decorated for gallantry.

Tommy joined The Satire from the Army in 1971 after a very brief and unsuccessful stint at a regional boys boarding school, although no formal charges were ever pressed.
He quickly gained a reputation at The Satire as a somewhat boisterous devil-may-care character would often be found wrestling naked on the floor of the photo-editors suite with Sambo his man-servant from his time out in East Africa helping to build a football pitch in a private boys school, although no formal charges were ever pressed.

Tommy was known by all who knew him as very much a man's man. In his black leather chaps, white stetson, sequined waistcoat and enormous handlebar moustache he was a colourful presence around the Satire offices for over 40 years. And his posts on the ups and downs of under-14 schoolboy rugby, hockey, gymnastics and greco-roman wrestling (a sport he campaigned tirelessly to bring back into the curriculum - although no charges were ever pressed) were always a riveting read.

Tommy's later years were of course dogged with controversy. While involved in a protest against the Springbok tour of New Zealand in 1981, Tommy once again realised he was on the wrong side and attacked the anti apartheid protesters with a placard. In recent memory his playful attempts at "wrestling" the speedo's from an embarrassed Tom Daly at the London Olympics were much frowned upon. His colourful and some would say racist and sexist remarks were very much those of a man of his time and a constant affront to those who worked with him. Though again no formal charges were ever pressed.

He leaves behind an ex-wife in Mombasa, a young Romanian friend Nicu in the local Salvation Army hostel and a motorway strewn with wreckage.

Scottish Feminists Demand Men "Be Feart of Mice."

EEEeeeeeeeeeeek!!!! A mouse, like what women are feart of, in classic attack mode.

Hunners of unattractive women lobbied the Scottish government yesterday and demanded something be done about the mouse menace.
Xena MacHarridan (none of your fucking business) the chairperson for SWAMT (Scottish Women Against Man Things) told The Satire while brandishing a bread knife..
"For far to long the Patriarchy has tolerated these so-called wee cowerous timorous beasties plaguing the lives of the sisterhood. Something must be done. While it's true that there are many women who aren't feart of mice and many men who are, this only highlights the inequality built into the system. Much much more could be done to help women."

"Jumping Fuck!" Exclaimed Sir Richard Attenborough at his mansion last night. "As I told you cunts before I know fuck all about animals and especially mice!" He said wearily and slammed down the phone.
"Jumping Fuck!" Exclaimed Sir David Attenborough at the BBC last night. It's only a mouse. It can't harm you and if anything it's more afraid of YOU. I know I certainly am. I think the ladies need to chill the fuck out and be less hysterical."
"That's it, blame the victim why don't you. This is the kind of outdated male attitude we are trying to stamp out. It's about time men started to empathise a bit more. We already tried to make women less feart of mice by explaining things logically. It's not working. It's far easier for men to take some responsibility and start being feart of mice as well, bringing about more gender equality." Ms. MacHarridan gibbered on.
Among the many mental demands she and her sisters have put before Alex Neil the Minister for Gender equality are :

  • Free stools for women to jump on when accosted by a mouse.
  • A free broom to try to hit the we bugger with as it darts about terrified.
  • That males as young as 6 weeks old be traumatised with mice in their cot, and propagandised with nazi style public information films on the evils and dangers of mice.
  • That it be made illegal to be unafraid of mice and beasties in general.
  • That cartoons showing mice in a positive light IE. Mickey Mouse, Danger Mouse, Speedy Gonzalez etc. be banned.
  • That mice be re-educated and taught how not to harass women.
"That final demand should be accompanied by a government funded nation wide poster and TV ad campaign targeting mice. 'Don't be THAT Mouse' should be the tag line. Men should also be made to wear a skirt when confronting a mouse, so that they can fully appreciate the horror involved in the insane primordial notion that it might run up your leg and get stuck in your jacky danny." Said Xena finally putting the knife back in her handbag.

"I'm Pissed Off With Being Mistaken for Coulthard!" Says Bloke off of Ferrero Rochet Advert



That German bloke off of the 90's Chocolate commercial has remarked that he's right fucked off with being confused with the Desperate Dan chinned British racing driver.

Wolf Kahler(73) the 6'2 actor who played a Nazi in Raiders of the Lost Ark told The Satire.

"Ich bin right fucked off mit zis. We are not even der same age fur fucksakes. It's embarrassing. Someone will ask me for mein autograph then say 'you look much younger on the telly Mr. Coulthard'. Gott in Himmel!"

Mr. Kahler from Kiel in Schleswig-Holstein who played a Nazi in Band of Brothers, blitzkrieged on..

"Ich wouldn't mind if it only went that far occasionally but it seems to be every other week now. Ich habe to avoid any motor sport related activities. Ich was delighted to be invited on Top Gear last month only to realise zat zey had made der same mistake. Schweinhunde!"

Wolf who played a Nazi in The Sea Wolves alongside Gregory Peck and Roger Moore stormed...

"It's getting beyond ein joke. Das final straw came when Michael Schumacher smashed his trolley into me in a supermarket in Koln then punched me in mein box shaped coupon. Before I could explain he'd knocked me clean out. Der twat! This would never have happened if Germany won the war. Seig Heil!" He thundered.

Kahler who acted the part of a Nazi in The Remains of The Day alongside Anthony Hopkins is set to play a Spanish transsexual prostitute in an upcoming David Lynch movie.*

*We apologise for the above inaccuracy. Wolf Kahler will be in fact playing the part of a Nazi in the upcoming sequel to Iron Skies.

Sunday, 11 August 2013

New Town Man Shits Himself at the Thought of ACTUALLY Living in the Country

Sstruan as he's chosen to be immortalised with one of his dogs Monty 

A man who gads about Stockbridge in tweed plus fours, dressed like a fucking extra from To The Manor Born, shat himself last week at the very notion of not living in the city.

Sstruan Findlater-Twatpiece (33), a former pupil of George Watson's college and resident of Heriot Row, found himself in the ghastly situation of possibly having to relocate to rural Perthshire as part of a workplace promotion. He and his partner Ffyon are among Barbour TM and Hunter's TM  best UK customers, and are lifetime subscribers to Horse & Hound and Cunty (surely Country. Ed) Life magazines.

Speaking from the tailgate of his pristine Land Rover Defender, decal-led with fake mud splatters, that he uses to mow down cyclists and demolish the wing mirrors of parked cars. He explained..
"I made my weekly visit to the office last Monday at Huckster,Shyster and Cunt were I'm engaged as an HR Under Manager to be told the "good news" by my Boss." 
"Congratulations old chap! You'll be pleased to know we've decided to give you a promotion, running a new office we have at Moor of Rannoch. No need for thanks, you richly deserve it"
"The Bastard! I couldn't work out what I'd done wrong. Ffyon and I took a helicopter trip up there and it really is the arsefuck of nowhere. We have two Labradors a Spaniel, a Rhodesian Ridgeback and a Jack Russell. What in the name of god would they do up here? I mean the nearest Waitrose is in Glasgow for fucksakes and I would't be able to have my magazines delivered. Also about 5 am you hear this godawful bellowing every morning. I asked what it was down the nearest so called pub, they don't even do cocktails, and they told me the noise is what they call 'cows'. Fuck that! Then to cap it all off when Ffyon inquired in the local Church about Pilates and Zumba classes they told her the only thing they do is something called prayer and worship. Peasants! Anyway thankfully it all fell through. By the way that's Sstruan with two s's and ditto for Ffyon."
"Struan tried to put a brave face on it when I gave him the bad news about the deal falling through." His boss told The Satire . " He punched the air and shouted 'YeeeeEEEssss you fucker!!!', but I know deep down he'll have been bitterly disappointed."


Sunday, 4 August 2013

OBITUARY: RIP Margaret Merriweather

The Bench where Margaret would rail against twilight till forcibly removed by park wardens.

The Satire today bids farewell to our Environmental & Meteorological Correspondent Margaret Merriweather who has died horrifically in her sleep.

Margaret started on the magazine way back  in the 1940's straight from Cheltenham Ladies College and soon became a regular but thoroughly disliked member of the editorial team. Unfortunately she was heavily litigious even back then so we had no choice but to keep her on.

Anyone who knew Margaret will know she had her eccentricities.

In particular, she could not abide the changing of the seasons. The very idea for example of Spring turning into Summer abhored Margaret. And as a young child she had campaigned vigorously, tirelessly, passionately and utterly pointlessly for a world-wide ban on all seasons.

Her two nemeses were Frankie Vali and the 17th century Italian composer Antonio Vivaldi, whose grave she faithfully shat on every year on his birthday. Even into her 90's, where she had to be helped from her bathchair and held over the headstone by her long-suffering grandchildren, she insisted on keeping up the protest.

From the earliest age, Margaret had actively and visibly displayed her contempt for the seasons in every way she could - wearing flimsy swimwear and flipflops in the December blizzards of 1962, donning full eskimo gear during the scorching 1976 heatwave and taking great delight in only eating pears which had yet to ripen.

But her tireless efforts had no effect and the seasons carried on regardless.

Towards the end of her life, her intolerance begun to extend to the concept of day turning into night and she had eventually refused to sleep at all saying enigmatically, 'That just encourages the cheeky cunt!"

She leaves behind a weary husband and 12 traumatised grandchildren.

Monday, 13 May 2013

Operation Yew Tree Arrests Test Card Clown

Days of  Innocence: In retrospect,. Are we surprised?

In a staggering new development, police under the aegis of operation Yew Tree have arrested Bubbles the test card clown off of the 70's. 
The 65 year old farceur was arrested at his home in a charity shop window in Staines Surrey by plain clothes officers. Police gave no more information other than a mannequin  in his sixties had been detained in connection with allegations of sexual offences carried out at the BBC between 1967 and 1984.
Friends and family alike are said to be absolutely shocked. "I'm absolutely shocked." Said Carole Hersee his co star in the popular transmissions. "He was always so quiet, but then again it's the quiet ones you have to watch. Of course you also have to watch the not so quiet ones like Stuart Hall I suppose. Dear oh dear." She continued placing her hand over her mouth.
Others however have always had their suspicions. "I always had my suspicions! Snapped B-list celebrity arsehole and slapper Kerry Katona. "I remember me and the girls were at the BBC doing a rehearsal for TOTP and Bubbles was being carried past us in a box. We were doing a raunchy routine, jiggling our tits and showing our arses and knickers while making pelvic thrusts and sucking our fingers. Completely necessary to convey the message of 'The Tide is High'. When out of the corner of my eye I saw Bubbles looking at us in a pervy way. Disgusting."
Fellow TV star Zippy from Rainbow spoke up in defence of the clown yesterday. "This is absurd. It was the 70's for fucksakes. It was well understood that if you were a tasty bird of whatever dubious age and you set foot anywhere near a TV star, producer, or Radio DJ you were up for it. These tarts knew the score. Gold diggers the lot of them. I groped Jane's arse loads of times and she didn't mind. Of course it wouldn't have mattered if she did, we would have just sacked her. Everyone knew she was shagging Bungle anyway. Slut!"
Bubbles was unavailable for comment today as he was in custody, and a fucking puppet.

Monday, 6 May 2013

Kenny MacArsekhole Writes...

The justice secretary looks through the names of those non-politicians suspected of drinking without his permission

His Excellency Commissar Comrade Kenneth MacArsekhole writes an open letter to his people.

Greetings to you the humble and exalted proletariat.
People often say to me, "Kenny, Is it no a bit rich you banging on and on about the evils of alcohol when you were arrested for being drunk and disorderly outside a fitba' match?" To them I can only say, "shut yer mooth!" Yeah yeah yeah it's boring now OK. 
Then just the other day the Venerable peoples representative for Perthshire South and Kinross-shire Comrade Cunningham, was accused of launching in to a 'boozy rant' at a couple of blue rinse capitalistic swine in a Hollyrood bar.
Now these same idiots are coming out the woodwork again. "Blah blah that's a bit rich, blah blah hypocrisy etc etc". Need I go on?(Glug glug glug aaahhhh)
Well I'm going to anyway. Comrade Cunningham and myself are socialists. That means we believe in bettering the working class.(hic!) Who better to better them than their bettersh? This is why we are bringing in a minimum price for alcohol.(hic!) Comrade Cunningham exemplified this policy. You didn't catch her down the park with a six pack of Spesh, abusing passers by. No! She had the decency to glug highly expensive but subsidised Chateau neuf du pape and abuse tory MSP's.(Slurrrrp!)
Because I and Comrade Cunningham are socialists we believe that the government should pay for thingsh. Thingsh like our highly lucrative shalaries and expenshes and of course the odd bottle or three of extortionate  plonk.(hic!)
There is no hypocrishy in thish whatshoever.(buuuurrp!) Shcuse me! We are simply keeping in touch with the people by shelflessly experiencing the evils of alcohol for ourselves, all the better to combat it. The SNP are a party of the people. We stand for justice, abstinance and...er...geez a minute er....( at this point an aide appears and whispers in the commrades ear) Independence! Aye that's it. I always forget that one, Independence. The right to self determination. Excshept of course the right to determine to get reekin on cheap booze unless you're a commissar like me Eck and Roseanna.

Power to the people! Long live the revolution.!(hic!)

It's A CockOut!!!

The Beast of the BBC seen here shamelessly brandishing his purple headed mic at HRH The Princess Anne

Shamed TV presenter Stuart Hall alarmingly walked free from court today after strategically playing his joker.
Despite being found as guilty as a weasel in a hen house, Lord Justice Edward Waring QC (yes we are aware Eddie Waring is dead  and never actually practiced law in any form, but in true tabloid style we at The Satire are not going to let those facts get in the way of a good story. Ed.) had no choice but to set him free.
"I had no choice but to set him free." Said Lord Waring through a slit in a specially constructed bunker. "According to an ancient bylaw, any man convicted of serious offences may 'playeth the jester' at a specific moment just before sentencing. I should have seen it coming but he had it hidden in one of those huge art portfolios that arsehole students go about with.. He doesn't get off completely free of course. He will now have to run back and forth from his probation office negotiating an obstacle course, wearing a big pair of clowns shoes and a horses head. Filling up a big plastic tube with buckets of coloured water, as the crowd pelt him with wet sponges and custard pies and bay for his blood. If he doesn't get enough water in the tube by the time the hooter sounds, he goes straight to jail."
The decision comes as a huge blow to Channel 5 who thought they had the next season of celebrity Big Brother all sewn up.
" We thought we had it all sewn up." Moaned Toby Tristram the producer. "We thought we could shoot the next series from the segregation unit of HMP Wormwood Scrubs. Rather than have to do our usual scrape through the bottom of the D- list celebrity barrel. All the recent big names would be there. DLT, Rolph Harris, Freddie Star and Davina McColl. But this latest ruling completely arses things up. Stuarts trademark cackle will be sadly missed. Let's hope for the sake of the ratings...er ..I mean justice, that he doesn't succeed in his challenge."

Friday, 29 March 2013

"Stop Laughing at My Arse!!!" Screeches Baboon

A primate at Edinburgh zoo lashed out yesterday at what it sees as "Speciesism".
Mr B.A Boon (7) of Enclosure 12b ranted. "I've had about enough of this shite! It really bursts my bananas. Just what the fuck is so funny about my arse? Eh?! You don't see groups of schoolkids going about here pointing and pissing themselves a laughing at any other species rear ends do you? Ok Ok occasionally the chimps raise a titter or two but nothing on the knicker wetting scale of baboons backsides. Any more of it and we are on strike. No more clowning around ,pulling faces, scratching our ringpiece or having a wank on my watch let me promise you."
"These baboons have got a cheek. In fact they've got two and they are big red and fucking hilarious." Claimed Frankie Douglas from Partick visiting with his two kids. "These monkeys come over here and sit around all day doing fuck all but shag shit and eat at the taxpayers expense. The least they can do is entertain us. If they don't want us laughing at their arses why do they go about with them looking so bright red and bloated? If they don't like it they can bugger off back to bongo bongo land and gie us peace."
Mr Boon hit back, "Oh is that right? We deliberately go about with our arses looking like this do we? How would he like it if I took my troop round to his flat and all split our sides at his Mrs' fat farter? I heard the bitch needs a whole couch to herself. I worked with David Attenborough you know."

Mr. Boons arse is on display between 9:00 and 18:00 each day.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Drug Cheat Armstrong speaks exclusively to The Satire!

Catholic nun turned respected academic theologian and best-selling author Karen Armstrong has today spoken excusively to The Satire about her drug-cheating shame.
In a frank and candid no holds barred interview Armstrong revealed how sorry she felt about the whole affair.
Armstrong was caught cheating as part of a routine drugs test following her ninth consequentive victory in the annual 'Tour de Force' championship; where popular academic theologians battle it out over 21 gruelling days to write an entire book on an obscure aspect of Catholic doctrine - whilst simultaneously peddling an exercise bike.
"To be honest, I've never really understood what the exercise bike has to do with the whole thing. But them's the rules. Thankfully being an ex-nun, it goes without saying that I have very powerful thighs. So that part has always been a dawdle for me."
"And luckily, my 700-page articulation of the contrived parallels between the primary tenets of The Second Vatican Council and an obscure numinous aspect of Sufi theology was a winner with the judges!"
"That said, yes of course I feel thoroughly ashamed of myself. But they're all at it. My drug of choice was a cocktail of communion wine, incense, horse tranquilisers with just a dash of crystal meths."
"If only I hadn't got caught, I could still be living it up in my big fuck-off Hollywood mansion riding that slice of sexy Texas tottie Sheryl Crowe ragged. I certainly showed HER the meaning of the word 'Transubstantiation'."
"Seriously, I literally had to explain the concept to her - seven times. Dumb bitch. But what a pair of freakin' knockers on it, eh? A mighty, mighty fine, ah-say-ah-say, a migh-tee migh-tee f-aaaaine piece of ass! Yes siree!, hot diggedy diggedy dawg! Praise the Lord! "

Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Labour Party to Re-Launch Ed Milliband

                                                           Mr. Milliband before (left) and after (right) the re-branding

The Labour party has unveiled their "New Look" Ed Milliband exclusively to The Satire.
After a six month consultation process with PR gurus Wanky&Wanky costing £1,000,000 per month the leader of the opposition will now be re-launched as Eddie Megabland TM. Tarquin Wanky, co-director of Wanky&Wanky explains.

"If you look at the before and after photograph closely you can see how much work went into this re-branding process. On the Left you can see Ed looking a bit useless and bewildered and so last administration. Thanks to a new tie and a trim, in the photo on the right you can see the new dynamic Eddie looking all focused and Dave Camerony and stuff. We think we have a winning formula in the new look Eddie."

Together with the new look the team have come up with some hip new slogans for the launch.

"Megabland the Megabrand."

"He's Mega, he's bland, he's Megabland."

"Now with 33% extra bland it's MEGABLAND!"

are just some of examples of what's on offer. Asked whether or not the public would be fooled into voting for someone just by repackaging them as more conservative, Mr. Wanky replied.

"Why not? It worked for Tony Blair."

Shown the before and after photo's, regular rent-a-quote for The Satire Maureen MacGlinchie of Parkhead said.

"Who's that posh looking tosser? He looks a complete twat!"

On being told it was the leader of the Labour party Miss MacGlinchie said he'd definitely get her vote as her Mum always voted Labour.

If the re-launch is a success the team plan to re-brand Ed Balls by ironing his shirt and calling him Edward Bollocks.


Wednesday, 2 January 2013

100th Satire Article Causes Sensation

Our Celebration earlier. Good. Isn't it

Happy New Year and Ceud mile failte, as pretentious twats who don't speak gaelic say on those fucking awful Hogmanay shows hosted by Jackie Bird, to our 100th article.
Congratulation flooded in from all our reader earlier this morning. What a fantastic journey it has been. Who would have thought all those years ago when Mr. Mingles and myself were unemployed and getting slightly fed up and disgusted with ourselves wildly  masturbating all day, that we would have reached the magnificent zenith of 100. Yes that's right, that's with two zero's. Our 100th article in just under four years. That's roughly a workload of 2.35 articles a month. Phew!
Earlier last year Mr. Mingles and myself got together to discuss this very eventuality. It was a heavy brainstorming session over two skinny lattes in Beanscene well into the we small hours of later that same afternoon. What would it be about? Perhaps an hilarious spoof of a well known talking heads,100 down to 1, nostalgia show. Maybe an irreverent lampoon of a well known political or celebrity figure. Or per chance a live action broadcast starring Ant & Dec, Graham Norton and Pippa Middleton's arse.
In the end after much deliberation and soul searching, we decided we couldn't be fucked really, so here it is in all it's resplendent glory.
What do you think this is? The Onion? Piss off!

"Congratulations on your 100th article and may you die of mange."
Alex Salmond

"The Satire is an inspiration to us all. We can only crouch in it's magnificent shadow."
The Onion

"100 articles in three years? That's not really very good is it?"
AA Gill

"I find your articles puerile, offensive, homophobic, xenophobic and devoid of sensitivity."
Jeremy Clarkson

"I salyoot your indefatigable organ. May the wrath of Allah descend upon your heads."
George Galloway

"Not nearly enough articles about me."
Robert Kilroy Silk

"oooOOOOooooohhh Mr. Tinky winky wonky woo doesn't like The Satire, coz it's like bigoted an stuff, an your rude an nasty to people."

Russel Brand

"Oh God Yeah! Do you remember when The Satire first came out?  It was brill! Along with space hoppers and sherbet dabs and Tiswas and your mum hated it."

Stuart Maconie

Pvt. Walker Appointed 'Minister for Earning a Few Bob on The Side Guv.'

Pvt. Walker as he would of looked in his new post, had he not been pan breed years ago

In a totally unprecedented move never before attempted by any government David Cameron has appointed a dead fictional spiv to a newly created cabinet position.

Pvt. Joe Walker off of Dad's Army, known for his crafty cockney cheeky chappy antics, and his extremely resourceful  ability to acquire and procure all sorts of contraband under the most difficult of circumstances. ie- "a bloody war on y'know". Is set to take up the post immediately.

In a statement to the media yesterday, standing in front of a statue of Churchill to give himself gravitas. The Prime Minister claimed.
"Look, these are difficult times we are all living in. Times not unlike the great unpleasantness of 1939 where Britain stood alone against the menace of Johnny Foreigner and his disgusting continental ways. And like the fat bloke immortalised behind me, Sir. Ray Winston. I will not shirk responsibility. Other than to engage in a Putin-esque  cock out display like what I did the other week, running about in shorts, crawling through culverts and so forth."
"To this end I have appointed the only man who can drag us through these terrible times. Who can forget his amazing knack of being able to secure bottles of champagne, tights or chocolates for Captain Mainwaring. A pound of beef for Jonesey. Or a thrupence worth of snout for Frazer. All at a knockdown price off the black market. Capitalism in action. How much more could he achieve with the full weight of government behind him? In this our darkest hour."
Asked from across the floor of the house by Ed Balls, what the new "Procurement Tsar" was going to do about the shite economic situation and that. Mr. Cameron replied, " I refer the honourable gentleman to this DVD box set of Dad's Army", which he brandished to his benches to rapturous hurrahs.
James Beck was unavailable for comment today, or indeed any day, as he cowped in 1973.