Adequate food containing the meat from at least one named animal, the return of Knight Rider, and a cat

Bits of things in pies, ungrateful children, haunted cars, and the mental image of an oldiewonk falling backwards over a wall. You LOVE IT.


Liverpool Echo: Man says his car ‘has a mind of its own’ but it’s probably cursed

There’s so much going on in this low-budget remake of Knight Rider, but allow us to quote this extract from his veritable tale of woe:

“I nearly gave an old lady a heart attack the other day. I’d come back to my car after going to the shops and there was an old lady walking past me. She wasn’t too good on her feet but luckily there was a wall for her to fall on.

“I turned the car on and the radio blasted so loud that it deafened me and she suddenly screamed, fell over and hit the wall. She shouted at me “what the f****** hell are you doing you stupid b******” and I said sorry love but it’s not me.”

We’ve run our expert eye over it, and can confirm it is officially CURSED, it being built on an old, haunted car scrapyard.

No wait, that’s Stephen King’s Christine.


Bloody ingrates of the week, part one:

Bristol 24/7: Man who decided to do something for the kiddiewinks despite being told by the council to stop doing that thing for the kiddiewinks, finds out that the kiddiewinks are, in fact, a gang of ungrateful little scrotes who will set fire to anything, decides to stop doing that thing for the kiddiewinks

He must have been so disappointed. Look, he even got a load of old supermarket trollies for them to clamber over and use lumps of concrete to get the pound coins out of the lock mechanism before setting fire to them. There could be up to one, two pounds in there.

It’s this kind of thing that can crush a man. So we can only wish him good luck on his new project, and can we suggest a name for it? We went with “A clip round the ear never did me any harm, it’s the only language these feral creatures understand” Land.


Bloody ingrates of the week part two:

Bournemouth Echo: Volunteer litter-pickers are absolutely FUMMIN after everybody wins a big award for keeping the local park clean, except them

That’s the kind of blatant snub that makes you want to tell them to stick their green flag up their arse, then put all the litter back.

Don’t do that, rise above it (but do the ‘flag up their arse’ bit because that would be funny).


Stoke Sentinel: Angry Alan fuming after waiting the best part of a year for a replacement piece for his corner sofa, only for it to be the wrong colour

Where would we be without the Stoke Sentinel and its disgruntled consumer stories with alliterative headlines? [checks notes] Apparently it’s “happier”.

But in this story, Angry Alan here is being played by noted author* David Walliams, who is himself playing Dennis Waterman telling his agent that he’s only going to take the part if he can sing the theme tune and write the theme tune.

Never stop, Stoke Sentinel, never stop.

* in the ‘noted author Dan Brown’ sense of the phrase


Manchester Evening News: Local residents furious over arrival of ‘6G’ wireless mast on their street

Yes, it’s big, and it’s ugly, but no less so than the lamp posts, the telegraph poles and satellite dishes on the side of houses.

We can only presume there is an ugly street furniture event horizon which we have slowly drifted over, while doomscrolling our phones which are themselves talking to the very masts to which they object.

Oh, and: “I have a young son, I’m worried about the radiation coming off it” and “We are not happy with this. What about the radiation?”

You can blame idiots for spreading that one. Actual idiots who think that the Queen is a lizard.


Kent Online: Compo face weather forecaster gets compo after he finds a cow’s tooth in his Fray Bentos pie

In the words of Terry Pratchett on the tasty fare sold by Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, purveyor of fine pies and rat-onna-stick: “Containing the meat of at least one named animal”

In the words of Coldwar Steve: “Adequate food”

Just think that when the balloon goes up and mankind faces the doomsday it brought down upon itself, Fray Bentos adequate meat pies will be the only thing left to eat. That’s a reassuring thought, isn’t it?

In other news, a local meat packing company has found the missing apprentice who was tasked with cleaning the mincing machine.


Let me introduce you to one of the rarer concepts in Angry People Land: It’s called ‘Begging a celebrity to buy the tat you’ve spent a small fortune on for no apparent reason’.

Nottingham Post: Lad urges Tyson Fury (or any other boxer, for that matter) to buy what’s been described as the UK’s biggest gold chain and cross

His reasons for buying it in the first place are rather vague, except for it would have been something his dead grandmother would have liked.

And it’s so precious to him, he’s put it up for auction in the hope that Tyson Fury will buy it and wear it on a future ‘ring walk’.

Astonishing update: Tyson Fury has offered to buy the thing, so what do we know?

Anyway, he’s not the first to try the ‘Please Mr Celebrity, buy my expensive tat’ stunt:

Daily Star (2016): Lad spends £4,000 on a car number plate and is unsuccessful in his attempts to get Jamie Vardy to buy it from him

Let’s be clear, there is not way that Jamie [checks notes] Vargy is going to buy that number plate, even with the pretty Leicester City badges you’ve added to it.

Have you tried Rebekah Vargy? She might be a bit short in the old ready cash department, though. You can contact her through… Rebekah Vargy’s account.


Kent Online: Man pays to put in speed bumps and road blocker on private street to stop cars

It’s great to have a hobby, and building this marvellous set of chicanes is sure to keep Big Ron Atkinson happy in his retirement from football.


Eastern Daily Press: Horror at fly infestation in Norfolk village

It’s the same, sad old story.

That’s what happens when you build a village on top of an old, cursed Tottenham Hotspur training ground. The flies are attracted to the shit, and the results are inevitable.

Our tip for prospective house-buyers: ALWAYS ask the agent if the village has been built on an old, cursed Tottenham Hotspur training ground. They’re everywhere.


Oxford Mail: The Sheriff of Oxford (really) goes for a swim through a flooded underpass to send a message to those pencil-necked desk jockeys at Thames Water to get their thumb out

Our message to anybody involved in light-hearted ‘swimming in urban flood waters’ stories: You do realise that the major reason places like this flood is that the sewers become overwhelmed, and it’s very likely that you are swimming in your own shit.

But to be honest, wherever you swim it’s going to be in shit these days ooh a little bit of politics there my name’s Ben Elton goodnight.


‘You haven’t got anything at all from the allied side, Father?’ of the week:

Newcastle Chronicle: Old boy gets an earful from his neighbours after flying Nazi swastika flag

He reckons it was fine for him to do it because someone on the internet told him it wasn’t illegal.

And if you read it on the internet, it must be true.

But why not put up the Union flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland?

Billy said he puts up flags from around the world but he wouldn’t put a Union Jack one up. When asked why, he replied: “With the state of this country, you’re kidding?”

To summarise: Swastika = fine. Union flag = nope. Glad that’s sorted.


And speaking of rampant fascism:

SOFREP: Russian tourists in occupied Crimea keep giving away the locations of Russian air defences to a grateful Ukrainian government

If you’re in a tourist who has opted to go on holiday to illegally occupied territory in the middle of a massive shooting war, do not take photographs of military equipment and bases and post them on your social media.

That is, unless you’re this guy, then keep on doing what you’re doing. You’ve been most helpful, those S-400 missiles have since been located to the square foot.


Stitch-up of the week:

Newark Advertiser: Bloke says he’s been framed after fly-tippers dump cannabis plants near his home and leave a scrap of paper with his name and address on top, ending with a £200 fine

I’m inclined to believe him, because nobody in this world is that stupid.

In fact, this is exactly like the halfway point in any soap opera plot about very bad crimes, in which the Soapshire Constabulary prosecute the wrong person, it being Nick Cotton all along.


Old-school hip-hop reference of the week:

Lichfield Live: White lines, go through their minds

The longer you stay, the more you pay

My white lines go a long way

Either up your nose or through your vein

With nothin’ to gain except killing your brain


Things which are not like another, far worse thing of the week:

Newcastle Chronicle: Man says closure of railway crossing will be like the Berlin Wall

I can guarantee that it will be exactly not like the Berlin Wall.

However, if he said it will be like the Berlin Wall’s Checkpoint Charlie, he might have had a point. You had one chance, and you blew it.


Cat of the week:

Edinburgh Live: Mum spots ‘big cat’ on her way home from night shift



Terrible poem of the week:

Let’s face it, there was only going to be one candidate, the lines written by the Welsh Bard Ryan Giggs himself.

Let this be a reminder that if you are in a job that does not involve writing poetry, please steer clear of writing poetry. Your verse about your penis may be used in evidence against you in a court of law.


Just leaving this here.

Don’t have nightmares.


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