Hayley MIlls

My mate Simon phoned me late last night from Watford Police Station. He was being held under the Anti-Terrorism, Crime and Security Act 2001. Simon wanted the telephone number of my cousin Steven, a solicitor. Apparently Simon went onto a search engine, typed in ‘Hayley Mills’ naked, and images…all fake…appeared! Not twenty minutes later, and police were hammering on his front door! I said, “Simon, are you f**king mad, or what? Hayley Mills is a British movie icon! You can’t expect to see naked images of Hayley Mills and get away with it! Christ man, not only was the woman Britain’s biggest child movie star of the 1960’s, but she was the daughter of playwright Mary Hayley Bell and actor Sir John Mills! What on earth possessed you to do it?” Simon’s reply? He was about to go to bed and masturbate, but he had run out of female movie stars to wank to! “What was wrong with Jane Asher,” I said. She slept with a Beatle?” After I had torn him off a strip, I gave Simon Steven’s telephone number. However, as it turned out my cousin was a fan of Hayley Mills and refused to represent Simon! I too have sent Simon to Coventry. F**king cheek!


assited suicide

I recently read about a woman of 36 who suffocated her father, 67, with a plastic bag. Despite her lawyer arguing his client’s action amounted to assisted suicide of a multiple sclerosis sufferer, the woman was convicted of unlawful killing! Anyone who has experience of caring for an elderly parent, or sick child for that matter, who has either lost mental capacity, is in constant pain, or is wheelchair bound, will understand the anguish both patient and carer is in. Many people believe euthanasia (Greek for ‘good death’) should be made legal in Britain. One day perhaps it will be, but not today! Meanwhile the sick are drugged up to the eyeballs, but what of the individuals who retain mental capacity, who beg a loved one to assist in their suicide? Strangely, society wouldn’t let a beloved domestic pet suffer, yet people must! So much for human rights!? Clearly ‘quality of life’ still doesn’t factor into whether or not a patient must stay or go! The Government continues to put off facing the problem because the ‘distasteful’ subject represents a ‘moral dilemma’. Not everyone can afford the £10,000 for a good death at the Dignitas Clinic in Zürich, Switzerland. Until assisted suicide is made legal, living under a democracy means unnecessary, prolonged suffering is de rigueur! Scotland was offered a referendum on independence, the whole of the UK is being offered an ‘In/Out’ referendum on membership of the European Union. Why can’t we be offered a referendum on assisted suicide?


Kitchen Knives Stock Photography - 14347572

No, no, I’m not talking about a sharp knife splitting skin, but the other death of a thousand cuts, the one where several thousand British citizens can look forward to dying involuntarily over the next few years because they can’t afford to heat their homes or switch the gas on to cook their food! That’s right, energy cuts! It seems to me, what once we in Britain took for granted are now luxury items! Me? I’m taking a stand! I have already put my home up for sale. I’ve instructed my real estate agent to earnestly look for a cave dwelling! It must pass a full structural survey, be freehold, have running water in it, be miles from any f**king fracking zone, and must be large enough to accommodate six adults. The six energy giants can stick their products right up their asses, and I hope it fries their ‘publicly quoted’ rectums, for I intend living as my ancestors lived. I will hunt for food and in the process attain a level of fitness I haven’t enjoyed since childhood. I am the new man…the caveman! Er, has anyone got a tin opener?

It is said Britain is the 5th richest nation on earth, and has the fastest growing economy in the European Union! I’m confused? Britain remains several trillion pounds in debt, this growing at £5,170 per second. These debts will never be paid off. All successive governments can hope to do is meet the interest payments. The Chancellor, George Osborne is about to impose further austerity cuts in order to attempt to balance the Treasury’s books. We have suffered years of cuts to Welfare, the NHS, the Police, and to Public Transport. Crikey, the average UK citizen can’t even afford to visit a dentist! If Britain is indeed a rich nation, clearly, the riches are being hoarded by the top 1% of the population!  



Does my wish to ‘go it alone’ have something to do with mass immigration into the UK? Err, no! Loss of sovereignty/ceding power to 28 unelected EU Commissioners? Err, no! I want to leave the EU because…of the 2014 Europe-wide ban on powerful vacuum cleaners! It now takes me twice as long to vacuum my home, time I would previously have spent with my head in the fridge! The second wave of EU restrictions on quick boil kettles, toasters, hair dryers and quick charge sex toys has been delayed due to a British national outcry, and quite right too! And by the way, who the f**k are these unelected foreigners who decide how we should spend our time? If they are so committed to saving energy, why don’t they keep their lips firmly shut!  



Oh what a rotten time to be alive! I can cope with armed insurrections, terrorism, and domestic unrest, but a world shortage of cocoa beans is definitely hard to stomach! If chocolate is rationed, why I don’t know what I’m going to do to get by? But it gets worse! The UK is in the midst of a national  biscuit shortage! United Biscuits ‘Biscuit Works’ factory in Carlisle which was flooded after storm Desmond hit the country, still isn’t up and running! What a perfect storm…a shortage of chocolate and biscuits! Entrepreneurs are holding biscuits to ransom and auctioning existing stocks on eBay! Believe it or not, some biscuits are even being sold as ‘pre-used, but in good condition’. Oh fuck, I wish I was dead, and by all accounts, I’m not alone in wishing me dead!


more tea vicar

Evangelist pastor, the Reverend Howard Curtis, 73, of the Coulsdon Christian Fellowship in South London, is accused of spanking the bottoms of naked women in order to cast out evil spirits. No doubt the Croydon Crown Court jury will decide the man’s guilt or innocence? Perhaps this is a case of: ‘The devil makes work for idle hands!’ Speaking as an irreligious atheist, I have on occasion been known to spank lovers bare bottoms, and receive the same consideration, but I had no idea evil spirits actually resided in butts? Having said that, I have no objection to indulging in a threesome with an evil spirit, providing it turns up with a bottle of holy communion wine! More tea vicar?



As I predicted over three years ago, there has been a huge increase in the use of unmanned drones used to smuggle all sorts of tradable contraband into British prisons…drugs, mobile phones, chargers and USB drives. Surely it is only a matter of times before we read about ‘heavy-duty’ unmanned drones spiriting away dangerous prisoners from both open prisons and from closed prison exercise yards?


keep calm and come out of the closet

We’ve all heard talk about Daniel Craig quitting the role of England’s finest secret agent, but who might replace him? Idris Elba perhaps? Since homosexuals can now marry in church, everyone who is anyone is coming out! I really do think it is about time James Bond should be played by a gay man! Why shouldn’t the man mince across the cinema screen declaring blue is so last season? “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you simply pleased to see me?” As far as stunts are concerned, a gay James Bond might not be so willing to perform his own stunts, just in case the actor catches a ladder in his thermal tights! But who would play Bond’s arch-enemy, Ernst Stavro Blowjob?James Bond, coming out of a closet at a cinema near you!’  


English: Old telephone switchboard

English: Old telephone switchboard (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It didn’t take a genius to work out that I wasn’t built for relationships, especially those horrid employer/employee relationships. Yes, a break from the work place was definitely in order, so I turned my attentions to the community in which I lived. Someone was bound to need me, so I applied post-haste to a charity called ‘Suicide Watchtower’ set up in competition to the ‘Samaritans’, and embarked on a four-week intensive training course that concentrated on a series of role playing exercises. Naturally I passed out with flying colours and eventually got to man the switchboard in an office located above a record shop in Kensington Church Street. I was handed a listed of trigger words and phrases never to be used, like ‘JUMP’, and ‘PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER,’ and quickly memorised these. With lives in my hands, I don’t mind telling you, I was plenty nervous. My heart was pumping, my hands were sweating and one of my balls was throbbing, mainly because I was sitting on it.

The switchboard light suddenly lit up and I was thrown in at the deep end. I took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Argos complaints department, how may I help you…Sorry!” I began again.  “Err…Suicide Watchtower, David speaking.” At first no one spoke. “Hello, is anybody there?”

Err, my name is Jeremy, and…” Apparently Jeremy was sitting in a hotel room drunk in charge of a loaded revolver. His wife had left him for his partner who had cheated Jeremy out of his share of a thriving business. I let the man talk himself out as I had been trained to do. Finally I said, “Jeremy, it’s always darkest before the dawn, so lets look for the silver lining together! Now listen very carefully.” I told him to grab a sheet of paper and a pen and draw a vertical line down the middle. This he did. “Now write out two lists, first the things that are troubling you.” I drank tea while he wrote. “Done!” “Good,” I said. “Now write out the things you have in your favour.” Two minutes later I heard a gun shot. I wouldn’t use that f**king tactic again.

The switchboard light shone. Brian told me he was standing on a stool with a rope around his neck speaking to me on a cellular phone. “Florian has left me. David, what am I to do?”  It appeared Florian was Brian’s long time male lover. They had even gone through a marriage ceremony on the island of Fiji. I listened to the man for over forty minutes trying not to snore too loudly. Every so often he would punctuate his tale with threats to jump. Naturally I talked him out of it. However, after the sixth such threat my enthusiasm began to wane. Finally I lost what little patience I had left and screamed down the phone. “Jump you f**ker, jump!”


“I said, DON’T jump you f**ker, don’t jump! Quickly, give me your address. I’ll happily come round and throttle you myself! I’ve met a bore or two in my time, but you take the biscuit!” It was then that I heard the stool topple over and the line went dead. Scratch two! Did you know that most people who hang themselves actually die of asphyxiation and not from a broken neck? Very few people know how to tie a proper noose. Sadly, proper noose tying is a dying art form. Anyway, the whole experience at Suicide Watch re-affirmed my belief that I really wasn’t a people person after all.

NOTA BENE:  Although this is primarily a COMEDY blog, I have no wish to offend. The subject of SUICIDE should not be treated lightly.If anyone IS offended, communicate this to me and I WILL trash this blog!



A team of Scottish scientists at the Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh have been awarded a grant of £250,000 from the UK Science and Technologies Funding Council for a feasibility study into building an alien detector. A proposed infrared laser device designed specifically to search for small, Earth-like planets around alien stars would be fitted to the proposed £1billion ESO European Extremely Large Telescope…not relation to the EEFLT (European Extremely F**king Large Telescope)…which would be the most powerful on Earth when constructed on top of a Chilean mountain. Is space the final frontier, well, only time will tell! Meanwhile plans are going ahead to colonise both the Moon and Mars. Any economic migrants who wish to permanently leave planet Urf can get hold of the requisite application forms from any DHHS office!

Meanwhile, over in China, 9,110 extremely poor people are due to be relocated from a rural/mountainous region  in the southwest province of Guizhou in order to build the world’s largest radio telescope, in order to detect and receive signals from outer space and help search for extraterrestrial intelligence. If contacted is ever made with aliens, the Chinese authorities hope to secure an exclusive export licence in order to sell aliens flat screen TV’s and laptops. However a question mark remains over whether Lenovo (the world’s biggest computer company) will get away with flogging QUERTY keyboards!


index finger

Oh dear me, I have a funny feeling it’s going to be a horrible year for some of us! The NHS is so short of doctors, hospital trusts are currently recruiting proctologists (bum doctors) from countries where there is a surplus of those individuals specialising in rear-end maintenance! So if you require the expertise of an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist (ENT), it is likely you will see a proctologist with an elongated index finger and a wicked sense of humour. I think I’ll go private!



Britain has come 8th out of 28 countries in an anti-depressant league table! Now a few years ago I went to my doctor complaining of feeling generally run down. No sooner had I opened my mouth, and the doctor shoved a questionnaire in front of me, which I completed there and then. One of the questions was, ‘Have you ever had any suicidal thoughts?’ Well who hasn’t, at least once in their life? The fact was, having written novels for several years and not having tasted success, why wouldn’t I have felt depressed? The long and the short of it was, my doctor prescribed me antidepressants, which I took for 6-months! Did they make me ‘happier’, no! One of the side effects almost scared the shit out of me…nightmares! I say, almost scared the shit out of me, because another side effect of swallowing antidepressants was, constipation! From my own experience, and from what I’ve read, doctors are far too quick to prescribe anti-Ds. Naturally a bipolar sufferer is in a completely different boat!

In the current socio-economic climate, which of us doesn’t suffer from depression now and again? It really is unrealistic to expect to feel ‘joyous’ all of the time. Bad news from our own back yards and from around the world seems to be streamed 24/7! STD’s are on the rise in the over 5o’s age group. Chocolate is running out! If you’re not on occasion plagued by self-doubt, then I suggest you are already swallowing antidepressants, that, or you have a sunny disposition that is a wonder to behold!




Through my girlfriend, I’ve been invited to a couple’s fiftieth wedding anniversary party. When Mary told me the milestone is represented by a gift of gold, well I nearly blew a gasket! I can’t afford to buy anyone anything made of gold! I said, “Mary, don’t you know anyone celebrating their ‘5th’ wedding anniversary? I got an ‘O’ Level in Woodwork, and can knock up almost anything on wood!” Okay, admittedly it was a low-grade pass in Woodwork, but that was only because the practical exam was hampered by the fact I caught a splinter. Even now, years later, I still don’t understand how on earth I managed to get a splinter in my…arse?


chocolateYou’re shitting me? Apparently not! There is a rumour spreading like melted chocolate that within 4-years there could be an annual, worldwide cocoa bean shortage of one million tons from the current crop of 3.5miilion tons. Is the likely shortage due to crop disease, yes and no! Developing nations such as China and India are developing a taste for confectionary, which means soon there won’t be enough chocolate to go round! Well that’s just f**king typical! No sooner do the working classes raise themselves up to become the new middle class, and I have to share my f**king chocolate! It’s no wonder commodity speculators are buying up current crops of cocoa beans! Soon the bean will acquire the status of saffron, truffles and caviar. If the cocoa bean does become a rarity, my girlfriend and I will have to cease rubbing, warm, melted chocolate over our naked bodies during sex! Oh dear, I think I need to visit a therapist?


royal warrant

Royal warrants of appointment have been issued for centuries to those who supply goods or services to a royal court or certain royal personages. The warrant enables the supplier to advertise the fact that they supply to the royal family, so lending prestige to the supplier. The earliest recorded British royal charter was granted to the Weavers’ Company in 1155 by Henry II of England. Food and drinks suppliers have always been some of the most important warrant holders to the palace. Royal warrants are typically advertised on company hoardings, letter-heads and products by displaying the coat of arms or the heraldic badge of the royal personage issuing the royal warrant. In truth, offering royal warrants of appointment was a way for a monarch to obtain goods and services for free, because accounts once remained outstanding indefinitely. “The honour of supplying the Court is payment enough,” said one Permanent Private Secretary to an impoverished supplier. “Surely the prestige of hanging your monarch’s heraldic badge brings you in further business?” Nowadays of course such bills are settled promptly. The only suppliers who are kept waiting indefinitely are those poor unfortunates who supply supermarket chains!