The Archbishop of Canterbury on... Trump - soon just an orange puddle with a combover in it?

2nd August 2024

WAKING with a hangover which makes me contemplate self-decapitation, I recall my inadvertent involvement in the Opening Ceremony of the 2024 Olympic Games.

I was visiting Paris in a private capacity on the night of the ceremony; an uneventful tour of the city’s cafes, when I fell in with the convivial company of some ‘drag queens’. After several libations, I set us an amusing challenge.

Procuring a length of bungee cord, we evaded security and clambered up the Eiffel Tower. On one of the platforms I stripped naked, affixed myself to the cord, and, with the drag queens securing the other end, leapt off the tower.

Bouncing upside down for several minutes with my genitals flapping in sync with each descent and subsequent ascent was most bracing, but I later discovered my harmless tomfoolery had been mistaken for part of the Olympics’ progressive opening ceremony, and had been broadcast live around the world.

The prank was condemned as sacreligious, and I thought it wise to blame an imposter. The International Olympic Committee apologised to me profusely for the security failing, and vowed to track down the impersonator. I was offered a considerable cash sum by way of settlement, which, I am informed, landed in my account this morning.

That matter resolved, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that agitators ran riot in Southport following the tragic murders. ‘Britain’s strictest headmistress’ Katharine Birbalsingh described the rioters not as far-right extremists but ‘ordinary people’ disaffected by multiculturalism.

Fuck me till my eyeballs pop out, thugs who throw bricks at fucking mosques and face off against riot police might be ordinary in your neck of the fascist woods, but for the rest of us they’re a bunch of fucking racist, thunderously ignorant boneheads! Who’s responsible for educating them? You? And why the fuck were they throwing bricks at a mosque? The kid’s a Christian so even the thickest twat should know to throw bricks at a church instead! Britain’s strictest headmistress? Britain’s stupidest cow, more like!

Donald Trump lasted 35 minutes of a scheduled one-hour interview this week, during which he questioned vice president Kamala Harris’ racial heritage and objected to the ‘nasty tone’ of his interviewer.

Ooh, the ‘nasty tone’. You are one weird, pouty, camp piece of fuck, aren’t you? ‘Nasty’! Coming from a bullying, racist Hitler wannabe like you that’s a bit fucking rich! You’re fucking rattled, aren’t you? Your brain is rotting through age and lifelong lack of use and you’re melting down by the fucking minute! By the end of the month, I swear you’ll be be nothing but an orange fucking puddle with a red tie and thatch of fucking combover floating in it! Still, loving the fucking poutiness! You’re going to be a popular prison bitch, that’s for fucking sure!

Steven van de Velde, the Dutch beach volleyball player allowed to compete at the Olympics despite having raped a 12-year-old girl, was greeted with a mix of boos and applause this week at his first match appearance.

Skewer my purple cock, applause? Who the fuck applauds a fucking convicted rapist? I mean seriously, who the twatting fuck? ‘Go on mate, good on you, don’t let the bastards grind you down!’ Tell you what, there’s a fucking microcosm of humanity right there – some people with basic, sentient, entry-level decency and some outright bewilderingly appalling cunts!

Finally, Rachel Reeves has spoken of the ‘incredibly tough choices’ she will have to make as chancellor, saying there is a much larger hole in public finances than she had been led to believe.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, enough of this fucking farce that you sat down on your first day, opened the big Treasury book and were astonished to find deficit figures that have been known for fucking months! And enough with this fucking fiction that the fifth-richest country in the world can’t afford to feed hungry kids because there’s ‘no money’! As for ‘tough choices’, funny how they’re always tough on pensioners, the disabled and the underpaid, but not in the least bit tough on you and your fucking mates! Here’s an interesting ‘tough choice’: why don’t you fucking resign because you’re an economic incompetent who’s as much use to the country as a crocodile bite on my fucking scrotum!

A white home counties roadman gets a summer job workin' for da cold hard cash

1st August 2024

14-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, is da big business bruh after gettin’ a job in a garage.

WAGWAN? Parentdem say man needs to earn own cash to know its value. Wot is you talkin’ habout, fam? Active J knows value, coz cash ‘as numbers printed on da notes, innit.

So, as well as bein’ a big-time gangsta rapper, man is now workin’ part-time at a motor garage fixin’ leng rides. Active J started on Saturday, an’ man’s garage ooniform woz boxfresh Air Force wiv a matchin’ peng new North Face hoody, hero-swag new job drip.

But gettin’ out of bed at 8am woz bare rank. Man ‘ad been playin’ GTA most of da night an’ woz a deadman, fam. Man ‘ad a can of Monster on him’s Frosties.

Da garage woz bustin’ wiv nang roadman Audis an’ BHemWs. Man woz flexin’ to ‘ave a spin in dem’s whips, but da bossman said ‘ride dis hinstead’, an’ gave Active J a broom, an’ called man ‘Arry Potter. Dat is bare beefspeak, fam.

When man ad’ done like ten minutes of sweepin’ da floor shit away from man’s Air Force, man woz gaspin’ for a Monster an’ a chug on new Peppermint vape, but da mechanicdem hoppressed Active J into doin’ da brews. Wot is you on habout, cuz? Wot is da brews?

Man messaged bruv Drilla but da dickhead ‘ad no hidea, but man’s gyal Lady G said brews is wot coffee an’ tea is, an’ dem’s don’t come in a can. Wot, fam? Makin’ da brews is bare rank, bruv. Dem’s mechanics well took da piss out of Active J for dat. Allow it.

Den man had to go to another garage to get a himportant tool, innit. Man woz bufferin’ for bare time waitin’ for a ‘long stand’, an’ den funnyman mechanic didn’t ‘ave one, innit. Active J woz extra-vexed.

When man got back da mechanicdem sent Active J to Maccy D’s wiv complicated orders. Dem’s said for man to write dem down, but man kept da orders in him’s head, an’ got dem all right. Much respect woz heaped upon Active J. Gassed, blud.

By da hend of da day man woz bare shot from da grind, an’ man’s drip was clapped an’ stunk rank of oil an’ da teasbag wot da wasteman mechanics threw at Active J.

So, man got paid him’s own cash wiv da value on. An’ man also got peng likes for sneaky Tik Toks in da Audis ‘n’ ting. Active J is now a businessbruh an’ a hinfluencer. Man is off to buy new drip. Safe, fam.