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HOLLYWOOD STARS MARRY IN BASILDON
American actors Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes swung into Basildon yesterday to exchange wedding vows in the now empty Woolworths.
The wedding was celebrated by Scientology loony’s in accordance with the couple's faith in Moonbeams Are Wishes and Noises Are Ghosts.
Crowds of onlookers and journalists gathered outside the Moon On The Square for a glimpse of the celebrities.
The wedding capped a week of Hollywood mania and drug fuelled frenzy in the town.
The centre of Basildon was sealed off from Laindon.
As darkness fell, oil-fed torches glowed from the eyes of mock 15th Century monks, who pulled up their robes and urinated in to the Mother and Baby Fountain.
Cruise's publicist, Arnold Satan, told Basildoneye that the urination ceremony was performed in front of more than 150 Basildon shoppers. Most of whom were one-parent families and pensioners.
The guest list included that bloke who sits in the corner all by himself and sells cheap tobacco; the girl who works in the pound shop; and Bert Hammerface.
Holmes wore a Primarks dress, with a horsehair train adorned with crystal meths, while Cruise wore his Ego.
After the ceremony, Pitsea singer Arthur Brown (72)serenaded the couple. He sang Knees Up Mother Brown in dedication to his dead mother whom he had with him in a cart.
Scientology ceremony
Cruise, 44, and Holmes, 27, got engaged in June 2005, two months after they were first photographed together in Cash Converters.
Cruise, who has starred in Mission Impossible and War of The Worlds, said he proposed to Holmes on top of the Basildon Bell Tower.
It is Cruise's third wedding. He was previously married to actresses Mimi Rogers and Nicole Kidman.
He adopted children with Kidman before they divorced in 2001.
The Church of Scientology was set up in the US in 1954 and claims eight million insane people worldwide.
The church's teachings are based on the writings of the late science-fiction author L Ron Hubbard, who spelled out principles that he called Scientology and Diabetics.
But critics say it is a fake religion based on making money from its followers, unlike other religions of course.
A Scientology wedding contains many elements including waving at the horizon, speaking with shadows and acting. Also elements fundamental to Scientology, such as taking off your clothes before leaning sideways and blowing out a candle before roasting a hand.
A spokesman for the Church of Scientology, Harry Jew, said its wedding ceremonies are not legally recognised anywhere on this planet, so Cruise and Holmes would have to have a civil union on Pluto sometime in the unforeseeable future.
FOUR HELD SUSPECTED OF SOMETHING.
Four residents of Burnt Mills were arrested in the early hours of yesterday before today which will happen again next week, by the police under the new law of pre-emptive crime battle with the Taliban.
The Taliban are a disparate group of War Lords with weapons of mass destruction such as dangerous rocks, deadly catapults and flying carpets to throw camels off. How horrible! Throwing a dromedary off a carpet. The undemocratic barbarians! We would have voted.
And that is why said the self ruled police the Burnt Mills Four had to be arrested. To stop them doing something that might do to disrupt G20 summit. Warnings by police that protesters are planning to bring Basildon to standstill at 2am are among several statements by them in a self fulfilling prophesy.
Every officer at Basildon Police station, now called the Brown Zone, was issued with a ten pound note to wave at customers going into Primark’s.
“This is very serious.” said Chief Constable Leonard Harris (48) standing in his steel capped boots. “Very serious indeed. We take it very serious as should the public if they are going to be serious for a moment.”
Basildoneye crime reporter Lips Dribbling asked: Have the four arrested been charged with a crime?
“No, not with an actual crime, but one that might have been committed if we had not arrested the first potential criminal and subsequently arrested his co-conspirators who might also have been involved with the dangerous plot.”
Can you give any details of the plot?
“Not at this moment in time, if there were a moment that was outside of time, we could not either. What the public must understand is that they are in terrible danger. Anything horrible could happen at any moment in time. They must be in fear otherwise we wouldn’t have a job, would we. This is an operational matter.”
So you can arrest anyone at any time for something they might possibly do?
“Yes
RUBYFANCHANCY
The ancient game of Rubyfanchancy was under way. The five gathered souls all knew the other , yet none trusted the other, without knowing each had bribed the master thrower of dice at one time, so none would challenge his judgement of the outcome of the aforementioned game.
On this particular night they were all in a conspiracy to cheat a newcomer, a young master Chips Camberwell from Clarkenwell, who this very ‘half noon happened to meet the petty villains in whose clutches he now unbeknowinglistly (a word not found by Dr. Johnson, but known to Blackadder) found himself. Lacey, the master thrower, unbeknownst to the other four of his usual crew had made up his mind to teach them a lesson they would never forget, for it is for the character of such low life to sometime teach the other a lesson such about to play.
Allowing Chips to win a few rounds of meagre monies they were now about to pounce with a big win against him. Chips threw his dice and with the strike of a snake Lacey grabbed up the dice before any of the others could see the throw.
“Rubyfanchancy!” cried Lacey.
What? No! Hey! Oh! Went up the cries of his fooled foils, all dumbstruck, yet all too fearful of calling Lacey a liar. He had too much on all of them, and each in the belief that they alone were in personal favour with Lacey.
The young Chips Camberwell could not believe his luck. He had won! The last shilling that his dieing old mother had left him had come through. He looked around at the surprised faces of his new friends and each face beneath the gas lamp had upon it a look of ghostly anger and despair. Lacey quickly gathered the winnings and stuffed the coins into the shaking hands of Chips.
“Take your winnings Chip and with it make your way in the world! Go, go now, get off - go!”
Chips ran. And all that could be heard were the echoes of his quick steps receding over the cobblestones into the foggy night.
The four like rats suspecting their food had been stolen from under their noses glared at Lacey, but each afraid to accuse lest he expose them for the cheats to the other they were. Lacey grinned and said,
“It seems that fate has betrayed us all this night gentlemen.”
They departed, each down a different alleyway to their nests.
When Lacey arrived home he looked at his new born daughter and decided to call her Ruby.
What happened to the rest is speculation, yet bodies turned up in various locations over the next years. On Ruby’s twenty first birthday she shit herself. What happened to chips, well that remains to be a secret.
HISTORICAL BIAS
The 1701 Act of Settlement was designed to secure lands and wealth, from those lands, for the monarchy. The rules of primofuckus, Latin for first robber, mean the rich come first and date back to feudal times when poor people had no say.
Basildoneyes royal correspondent Nancy Nicecake said her rectum will be stitched up with humility and crass obedience.
Prince Chips and his officials were laughing about the changes that could be made to the monarchy when he finally succeeds to the throne.
He added that allowing worms to the throne to marry spoilt women "opened a can of ecclesiastical heirs" for the Church of Robbers, the official church of which the monarch is the Supreme Governor.
'In principle'
The reform bill has been introduced by Liberal Democrat MP Even Setup.
Sources at the Basildon Centre have said while the council supports the "principles and objectives" of the bill in a hundred years, it will never support the bill itself.
Such reform would need the backing of the 15 other Basildon councillors which have the Basildon monarch as their spunk wish.
REFORM OF BASILDON ROYALS
By Nancy Nicecake, royal reporter and predatory lesbian.
Top Tory Mulhoone Bucklehead has ’discussed reform with Basildon royals The Gloucester-Parks.
Rules to the succession of The Moon on the Square are to include giving royal women equal bar rights, so that they can laugh at poor people from time to time.
When I walked in to the palatial sitting room I tripped over pile of Tupperware full of sick from the previous nights party to celebrate Princess Slag’s’ new diamond bracelet known as The Pink Purple Pussy. The princess greeted me with a grimace and a look of malice from her bloodshot eyes peering out from deep sockets.
I curtsied twisting my legs into a knot and kissing the princesses blue veined hand. Her royal highness acknowledged my obsequious curtsey with a toothless grin and a long moan.
“Your Majesty. May I worshipfully inquire if you are in agreement with the reforms?”
“No, one is not, you lower order person from working class land. We see no reason to change a tradition that has maintained for thousands of years just to appease a plea for equality amongst you filth from sink estates. You may sit on that spike.”
I sat as gently as I could upon the golden spike given to the princess by Prince Abdul Hic Mock of Saudi Arabia.
“Yet surely it is time for the royal family to adjust to modern democracy by allowing ordinary subjects some pitiful illusion of change?”
“No. My sister-in-law tried to marry a wog and we got rid of her quick enough in the Blackwall Tunnel.”
As the spike went up my anus, I squawked,
“Long live the Queeeen! The people are restless for change, if you do not show some willingness, then you might have a revolution on your hands. Fucking hell, this hurts.”
“Do the lower classes have guns? No. We have the armed services all of whom have pledged their allegiance to we the royals. The police are on our side and any sign of rebellion will be dealt with in the harshest fashion.”
“Have you got any Preparation H? Yet many believe that the monarchy is out of touch with the people of Basildon. Is this not the right time to show a modicum of understanding that the world is changing and you ought to give a sign that you are prepared to reform?”
“Why? What can they do? Write to the Newspapers, all of which are on our side. No, the people are pigs swill and like animals there for our benefit, to do as we like with them. It says so in the Bible and that royalty is ordained by God, anyone who opposes us, opposes God Almighty.”
“Can I stand up? I need a poo.”
“Stay seated on the spike. Only then will you show loyalty and love to me. Let me spit some gin and tonic into your face.”
“Thank you so much.”
The rules of succession are laid down in the 1701 Act of Settlement.
COUNCIL POLL: THE PUBLIC SPEAKS
Equal rights for royal badgers? - 89% yes. Heir allowed to marry Catholic paedophile? - 81% yes. Basildon monarchy to continue? - 76% yes 1,000 servants of the royal household polled by ICM Research.
It states heirs to the throne lose their right to be the sovereign if they marry a Cake. In addition, male heirs are given lots of public money. If the Act was changed to give royal daughters equal rights, Princess Slag would become fourth in line, behind Prince Harry O' Corbett. Currently she comes after the Duke of Dickinson-for-Sale and the Earl of Whorl, and their children. As things stand, Prince Villiam cannot marry a Romany and become king. And if he has a daughter she cannot be queen if she has a bigger bum. Prince Michael of Cunt, the inbred mad first cousin, is among a small number of royals who have renounced their place in the line of scoffing by marrying a horse. Winter O’ Kelly, the Canadian wife of the Queen's grandson Peter Phipflop, gave up her Catholic faith ahead of their 1808 wedding so she could continue to be rich.
THE BASILDON ANGEL BUG.
We all remember the Millennium Bug.
It was the most frightening event that the world has every known
All computers were to crash at midnight on the change of the century. The Internet, the world wide web and global confusion would crash into a sea of chaos at that precise hour of midnight. All this was predicted. And it would have happened if it were not for The Basildon Angel Bug.
Now we all know that the Millennium Bug was a confidence trick, perpetrated by the knowledgeable rich to get money out of the spending population of the world. Another witch hunt that we all fell for, another Hi-Tec terrorist that we believed, and another ghost in the machine we thought existed as we once did the ethereal fluid said to flow like blood through the veins of the Greek mythological gods.
We sat and waited. Then came 11.59. With blooded fingernails, and faces gasping for air. It happened! Like an explosion of balloon dust.
Why did it not happen as predicted? Because the Basildon Angel Bug was sent over the world wide web at the last moment and saved the entire planet from disaster. If this had not happened you could not have had another baby, you could have not had another haircut and you could not have had another hedgehog!
All these things were saved by The Basildon Angel Bug. Basildoneye has the clearance from the Ministry Of Defence to tell the public the truth and with the Freedom Of Information Act we do disclose that most of the terrorist viruses that you all fear are claptrap!
The only defence against direct intrusion of fear on your brain and computer is The Basildon Angel Bug!
You can now download it for the small fee of £29.47
Never jump with fear again.
Download NOW! BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKCDRTT5cMU
“Lord West, who advises the Prime Minister on security matters, told the House of Lords: "There is another great plot building up again and we are monitoring this."
His comments came the day after the House of Lords forced the Government to abandon plans to extend detention without trial for terror suspects to 42 days.”
What did Lord West mean by “…great plot”? What is a ‘plot’? It is to plan something secretly, usually something illegal. If this plot is by definition secret how does Lord Alan West know about it? If he knows about it and is not involved in it, then it follows that it is not secret and therefore not a plot.
He went on to say, ‘…we are not safe.’ Who is ‘we’? Everyone in the UK, I presume. He said the threat is huge. It is severe. That there are large complex plots. Again, if they are plots how does he know about them? Can you imagine an enemy so stupid that it allows Alan West to know about its secret plans? And if he really dose know about the secret plans is he so stupid he allows the enemy to know that he knows by telling the House of Lords on camera, so that all of the UK also knows? Sounds like a Carry On film.
And who is the ’we’ who have put measures in place to monitor the plot? Is it MI5 or MI6? He does not say. It could not be QinetiQ, the defence contractor of which Al chairs the advisory board? A company that makes weapons and is partially owned by the MOD and the Carlyle Group which is a global
private equity investment firm, based in Washington, D.C., with more than $89 billion of equity capital?Surely not. It would not be in the interests of such a company to spread fear of terrorism, what? I cannot believe, nor you, that such a respectable company would spread rumours of war. What would be the point?
Laughing yet? Or at least sighing? If not, then at least you can see where the ‘Rolf Harris’ painting is heading.
Lord Alan William West, Baron of Spithead and was educated at Windsor Grammar School must think the public is daft. I don’t blame him, especially since we fell hook, line and sinker for the whole Weapons Of Mass Destruction bullshit.
BASILDONED TWINS WITH WASHINGTON DC
President Barak Obama graciously received a Bell Tower cream cake to commemorated the twinning of Basildon with Washington DC.
“This coupling will raise the international profile of our city”, said the President, “We thank Basildon for consenting to twin with our humble town. This will bring the prestige that our city leaders have sought for so long.
“Basildon is known throughout the uncivilised world, in such places as the Congo and Uzbekistani. We welcome the influence Basildon has in such dark and remote places where it is difficult to make contact if one speaks any known language. Because of Basildon’s elemental culture it has access to the wilder reaches of humanity which otherwise would be unreachable.
“For instance, it was through the influence of Basildon relations were developed between ourselves and the Tartars, the Dry Chaco head-hunters of Paraguay, and The Yeti. These three almost extinct tribes were brought into the brotherhood of Western civilisation and now a useful services as bouncers, car clamping enforcers and Green Party activists.
The expeditions sent forth by Basildon have included Mushroom Mad dances, Vodka/petrol drinking rituals and sitting in a fridge longest competitions. Over it’s 60 year development Basildonians have indulged the most bizarre, depraved and corrupt activities known to man. They talk Mumbo Jumbo fluently, stagger the stagger and go mental in the best tradition of savages anywhere on the planet.”
The President then picked up the cake in his hands and took a mad bite.
TROLLIES IN PUNCH UP
Three supermarket trolleys were caught on camera having a punch up.
Police were called to the scene at Kingswood, but it took some while to untangle the violence. A wheel had got stuck and a wire snagged. Eventually, after a long struggle, the police were able to pull the warring trolleys apart. All three were arrested and pushed to Basildon Police station where they were charged with affray.
Next morning they were pushed to the Magistrates Court. One trolley develop a wonky wheel and kept veering off the pavement, but after a good screaming at by an officer it behaved itself.
The fight started because one trolley refused to carry as much shopping as the other two. On the way to the pub after work an argument broke out broke out about it. Handles were thrown, wheels clashed and wires became enmeshed.
All three pleaded guilty and were give 120 hours community service as Trolleys.
Two uniformed police officers stood on either side of a mobile metal detector. No one could enter or leave the building without passing through the metal detector. Around the corner at the other entrance to the building stood an identical metal detector. With two identical policemen attending it. Nervous smiles flickered on the otherwise stern faces of all four officers. They eyed with suspicion the few civilians who stood around smoking outside. One man stood deliberately between the frame of one metal detector, drawing on his cigarette as if in defiance. Crowds of shoppers passed, looking at the provocative scene with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement. The people inside the building sat at the windows like prisoners. The atmosphere was tense.
Is this a description of what we were told happened in the Soviet Union during the Cold War? No.
Perhaps Nazi Germany? No.
It was Basildon, outside both doors of The Moon on the Square public house at 1pm today, Saturday 28th February 2009.
No one took photographs. It is now illegal in the UK to take pictures of the police. One supposes that any one who attempted to take a photograph, his or her camera would have been confiscated. They may even have been arrested.
The official reason for the police being on guard outside the pub is that they were searching for weapons. That explanation is absurd.
This is why:- A person carrying a knife or gun approaches the pub. They see metal detectors and police:- decided to walk through?
Absurd.
So, what is the real reason? Intimidation comes to mind. But why would the police deliberately intimidate the public? Seems crazy to alienate the very public without the co-operation of whom crime prevention cannot possibly succeed?
But, this is not about normal crime prevention is it?
Jack Straw, MP for Blackburn, and now
Secretary of State for Justice said in a newspaper article on February 27th 2009:- “Our record isn’t perfect, but talk of a police state is daft.”Any citizen who passed The Moon on the Square public house today would beg to differ.
So, what is going on?
Let’s make an intelligent guess, based on facts. “Police are preparing for a "summer of rage" as victims of the economic downturn take to the streets to demonstrate against financial institutions“ was reported in the Guardian on 23rd Feb 2009.
The police action today is part of a softening up process. The action outside the Moon started at 11am and finished at 4pm. We saw it and we are shocked.
Camels seen at Shell Haven superport
MORE than 15 camels have been spotted at the Shell Haven Superport development area. Most of the £1.5billion for the superport comes from Saudi Arabia.
Mrs Mavis Buckles (58) said that she was looking out of her upstairs window when she saw a camel,
“I thought that a circus had arrived. A robed man was sitting on the camel hitting it with a stick. The camel was pulling a sled with bricks on it.”
The huge operation is part of the London Gateway scheme, and will be the first major deep-sea port in the UK.
Mr. Albert Guzzle (67) said that he had never seen so many stretch limo’s coming and going,
“I couldn’t see who was inside because of the dark windows. One of the windows slid down once as I was sweeping my path and a fat cigar butt flew out. It hit part of the path I had already swept.”
Another resident, Sidney Slater (48) said that when he went to the corner shop for his newspaper, a group six of dark gentlemen were sitting outside smoking from a big hubble bubble type pipe.
A large wooden structure has quickly been erected opposite Mary Smith’s house. It has a high turret and at certain times of the day a man can be seen at the top singing.
“Though I don’t call it singing, more like a wailing,” said Mary bemused by the rapid changes in the locality. “A bloke knocked the other day selling tea from pot he was carrying. He offered me this tiny tea cup with black tea in it: I mean, no milk. He squatted. At first I didn’t see him, then I looked down and I saw this black gold toothed grinning face. Did put a fright up me. I chased him away with my broom”
‘Fred’s Café has been taken over and refurbished into a Bazaar.’ said resident Tom Bloom, ‘I walked in without looking and came out with a carpet.”
A spokesperson for the Saudi Arabian company in charge of the multi-million pound development said, ‘The local community has nothing to fear from the sudden changes. Indeed they will prosper as their houses are slowly bought for enormous prices.”
Mr. Steven Bench (74) said, “I live in Cartwright Lane, but the name has been changed to Emirates Ally. And I see they’re putting up large tents in Ironmonger Mews. What’s that all about?”
STONE AGE WICKFORD.
Arciologists have told us in Basildon what we already knew Wickford is Stone Age.
Faith Bumbleton of ‘Shall We Dig Up Something’ fame said ‘This is a find. The stone paintings drawn on the side of houses are to be beheld.’
One painting depics a treasure trove of other paintings one cannot quite see. We had to take down the bricks. Much to Mr Nelly Dreadings surprise as he was eating his Weetabix with no milk that morning. He along with the bricks was cartted off to the British Museam and planted behind the body of gin soked Queen Mother.
As one walks along Wickford High Street, three woolly Mamoths don’t appear, just old people shopping. One dropped her walking stick and in a moment of historical apocolise picked it up and carried on walking.
We followed her with our twenty first century cameras. What was it like to be a stone ager? We did not know, so we followed her. She walked as if carring a bolder on her back. When she said hello to a passing stranger she voiced. ‘Ahhgee’ A langage not heard until then. Tony Robinson of ‘Dig Me A Hole.’ fame and well know ugly man, pounced on the old women and proceeded to ask her questions while looking at the camera.
‘What part of the Stone Age are you from? Is it Jurassic, Curassic or plain old Sick.’
As he asked these most important questions, he missed his step and fell down a drain hole. There he found himself in the true Stone Age - Dark. Blinded by having no camera light he felt his way along. The long forgotten eching on the curved walls told his fingers tips, ‘Bradly was here.’
The old lady hailed a bus, got on withing half an hour and sat down on a child.
Basildon’s new sensation Old Man Stan says that he is just a Trilby puppet in the hands of another Svangali.
‘My creator Mr. Steven Wonga induced me into a contract where he get’s all the money and I do all the work. He is a new Svangali!
As in the novel Trilby by George De Maurier:-
It was a fine sunny, showery day in April when he finally put the finishing touches to my appearance. He gave me life and an opportunity to become something I was not before. From foam to fame! He was my impresario, but the more I became famous the more his jealously grew. Now, his ravenous greed for my attention and envy of my celebrity, he has become a monster!
At first he said, ‘No strings attached.’ But once my fame grew Essex wide, he became jealous. I know now that I must escape his clutches and that why I have put an advertisement in the Yellow Advertiser for a new manager, one who will not be covetous of my success, one who has the managerial skills of Rod Hull. Emu is my hero. If only I could lead an independent life like that.
But no, enslavement seems to be my fate. Yeh. If only a fairy godmother could hit me with a Bazzo Stick!
LONG-RUNNING BASILDON RADIO DRAMA THE SPILLAGES TO GET AWARD
The Spillages, based on local Farmer Melvin Spillage, is to be honoured with two stars on Basildon's Walk of Fame.
The series was first recorded in 1873 and actor Eric Lavender has played Melvin Spillage since then and will get one star.
The other star is dedicated to a sack of stinking manure who plays Melvin’s wife Hanna.
“Darlings, I just couldn't believe my ears when I was told I would be receiving a star," Mr Lavender raved in a shrill voice, “I am thrilled, delighted and honoured. Where will it all end?”
Vanessa Walloon-Crouch, producer of the Spillages added: “Despite being set in rural Laindon, Winsor has always been where show is recorded. After all one has to keep one’s standards. I am delighted for Eric. The recognition is all part of his surprise redundancy package”
The real Melvin Spillage had this to say, “Mar be knar nodules daw be me cockheadges ark!”
NEW RUNWAY FOR BASILDON
Amid local concerns Basildon Council has given the go ahead for a new runway.
The runway will pass through the centre of Basildon thereby annihilating the town. This will be Basildon’s fifth runway, the other four remaining at Heathrow. Stanstead was considered, but because an airport is already there it was felt that another one would be a trifle too much.
The population of Basildon will be relocated to London’s East End where they will enjoy the crowded conditions and poverty much fondly remembered by older residents. Members of the council will remain to control the predicted 70,000 aircraft landing each day from Laindon in the west and Pitsea in the East, Scotland in the north and Uganda in the south.
A crash will happen every two minutes as the runway will be built out of hills.
The ancient game of Rubyfanchancy was under way. The fiver gathered sold all knew the other , yet none trusted the other, without knowing each had bribed the master thrower of dice at one time, so none would challenge his judgement of the outcome of the aforementioned game.
On this particular night they were all in a conspiracy to cheat a newcomer, a young master Chips Camberwell from Clarkenwell, who this very ‘half noon happened to meet the petty villains in whose clutches he now unbeknowingistly found himself. Lacey, the master thrower, unbeknownst to the other four of his usually crew had made up his mind to teach them a lesson they would never forget, for it is for the character of such low life to sometime teach the other a lesson such about to play.
Allowing Chips to win a few rounds of meagre monies their were now about to pounce with a big win against him. Chips threw his dice and with the strike of a snake Lacey grabbed up the dice before any of the others could see the throw.
“Rubyfanchancy!” cried Lacey.
What? No! Hey! Oh! Went up the cries of his fooled foils, all dumbstruck, yet all too fearful of calling Lacey a liar. He had too much on all of them, and each in the belief that they alone were in personal favour with Lacey.
The young Chips Camberwell could not believe his luck. He had won! The last shilling that his dieing old mother had left him had come through. He looked around at the surprised faces of his new friends and each face beneath the gas lamp had upon it a look of ghostly anger and despair. Lacey quickly gathered the winnings and stuffed the coins into the shaking hands of Chips.
“Take your winnings Chip and with it make your way in the world! Go, go now, get off - go!”
Chips ran. And all that could be heard were the echoes of his quick steps receding over the cobblestones into the foggy night.
The four like rats suspecting their food had been snatched from under their noses glared at Lacey, but each afraid to accuse lest he expose them from the cheats to each other they were. Lacey grinned and said,
“It seems that fate has betrayed us all this night gentlemen.”
They departed, each down a different alleyway to their nests.
When Lacey arrived home he looked at his new born daughter and decided to call her Ruby.
What happened to the rest is speculation, yet bodies turned up in various locations over the next years. On Ruby’s twenty first birthday she shit herself.
N>
The lower orders ought not ask questions about Royal finances, nor any MP. That is the private business of Her Majesty and her Royal family. That Queen Elizabeth receives from the tax payer £15.1million, together with another £15million for the upkeep of her Palaces and Castles, which she is keeping in trust for the nation, and other monies for security and cost to councils which amounts to roughly £110million, not to mention travel and accommodation for Prince Charles £1.6million, none of this ought concern the lower orders.
Without such income and public expenditure how could the Queen drive by and graciously wave and thereby allowing you to feel honoured. Ought not she be paid for visiting the poor and laying her hands on them, thereby causing the wretched to feel touched by she who is endowed by God to rule?
How happy you are when Her Majesty or one of her Royal family visits your local area. Such happiness bestowed has no price, that is why local councils meet the bill. Do you not pay to see lesser mortals like Roy Chubby Brown and Derek Acorah?
The last time an upstart made the proposal was in 1972 by Douglas Houghton, a former
Labour chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. Her Majesty reacted by threatening to move out of Buckingham Palace and live elsewhere in a private capacity. Her views were not made public at the time because of Lord Cobbold’s fear that the lower orders might riot.Without the Monarchy there would be no Lords, nor any other feudal titles, so it is in the interests of those who have titles or seek to obtain one should defend the Monarchy. As should the lower orders, for with it they would be worse off. They would no longer be able to witness the joy of Royal occasions and the privilege of gawking at the Pomp & Circumstance that only their natural Royal superiors can give.
A NEW START FOR BASILDON AND THE WORLD
The new president sat down in the armchair that so many other men had inhabited whist reflecting on the important judgements that had to be made in the past. Hard decisions that this new man to the office must make with as much objectivity as had the esteemed men before him
He checked his watch as slowly and solemnly the people filed in. They sat in their various places, arranged their papers on the tables before them, and after a few minutes, settled, took up their pens and drew in their collective breath. A heavy silence settled on the room and expectation filled the air.
Some did not look at the new president, perhaps afraid that they might see a penetrating look of disfavour. Others gave furtive glances at eyes that avoided contact other than a momentary one of challenge. Some of the gathered knew each other of old and had battled many times over the difficult questions of the world, but wanted good will and a sense of harmony to prevail this nights proceedings, for if it did not and hostilities broke out, then perhaps never again would there be assembly of minds as this.
The old architecture that surrounded the assembled bespoke of the many other occassions it had witnessed the passing of knowledge between minds.
Outside could be heard the distant rumble of traffic as the souls of this old town went about their ordinary lives. The president checked his watch for the last time, drew himself up in his leather chair and said in solemn tones,
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. To the players from The World public house, I as the new president of Basildon Quiz Night association welcome you.”
BASILDON TORY COUNCILLER CLAIMS MASTURBATION IS A SIN
Trudy Pugh, Tory councillor for Lee Chapel South East by North West, said that masturbation is a sin and anyone who does it should be banned from voting.
Councillor Pugh is also leader of The Christian Alliance for Thought Control. The unhinged councillor said,
“To masturbate you must lust and lust is committing adultery. The Bible says so. The reason people do not admit they masturbate is because they are ashamed. And they are ashamed because the Bible tells them to be ashamed. Those who are not ashamed do not read the Bible. Muslims do not read the Bible, therefore they are all masturbators. That is why they do not believe in Democracy, because is they did, they would have to vote, but they prefer to wank-off.
“That is why I want to ban all who masturbate from voting, because secretly they are Muslims. Those who masturbate get ye to a Mosque wherein ye can mass masturbate. Not mass in the sense of Roman Catholic mass, the latter is Christian and holy. No Christian wanks!
“Does the Pope masturbate? No of course he doesn’t. His holiness is too busy, like me. I keep too busy to have time to masturbate. When I sit on a toilet seat I urinate not masturbate. Therefore to urinate is holy and not a sin. The Bible says nothing about urinating, if it did it would say something like “Urinate all ye want. Go forth and urinate!
“ I relieve myself with urination, not with masturbation! If you feel a sexual urge do not crawl into bed like a sex-leper and press out the puss, better to piss yourself. The stain of urination is better than the stain of masturbation. How hard to wash away the stain of self ejaculation than the stain of urination? No amount of washing powder or whitening tablets can clean the sheets of the secret masturbator.
“Why does no one masturbate in a public place? Because they are ashamed. But no one feels guilty to urinate in a public place. Even Muslims urinate in public, but hide it under their burkas. That is why Arabs ware long shirts. I wear long skirts so that I can unashamedly urinate in public. And that is why the Pope wears long apparel too. As his holiness goes by in his Popemobile he is probably urinating as he waves. He is not masturbating under his robes. For if he were he would not be Pope. And that is why we Christians teach children to feel guilty about masturbation. Better that they feel criminal and Christian than Muslim.
So when the Pope visit’s the UK and you see him, either in person or on TV, show your support for the Christian faith by urinating.”
I have issued my security staff with a new uniform. It is military in design and includes crash helmet with visor; shield and a long truncheon. The purpose of such apparel is to protect the security officer. He will also be equipped with pepper spray and taser gun. These are merely for the purpose of defence and should not be perceived as assault weapons.
I have also adopted the policy initiated by my good friend President George W. Bush of pre-emptive action. In other words attack first those who are might to attack you. Therefore, my officers will have the authority to attack any person they believe might attack them or may cause a public disturbance. I leave it to the good judgement of my officers to decided who may or may not have the propensity to cause a crime.
My security officers are hand picked from the lower orders by responsible management from the upper orders and given at least one full days training in the use of their equipment. A procedure of engagement has been devised to allow any suspect to comply to an officers request for order. The phrase, ’It’s not debatable’ will be spoken aloud to the likely offender. If the probably criminal expresses a wish to explain, he or she will be met with the message, ’It’s not debatable’. This will be repeated until either the terrorist runs away or forces the officer to strike.
Such an offencive action will not happen because all my security guards have been bouncers or ex-soldiers and thereby thoroughly excised in restraint. Not one would baton or taser an innocent person if they were not absolutely convinced that that person might be violent. It is not necessary for the person to be violent or actually attack, only that they might, as judged by the officer or officers protecting the public from the threat of mass riot.
Yes in the modern world, which is constantly under threat from known or unknown, or possible known or unknown terrorists we must act before they act. We now live in a world, thanks to President Bush and Mr. Blare, where everyone is a possible criminal or terrorist. Each and every demonstrator could turn violent, therefore, it makes sense to be violent first. And by doing so we protect freedom.
Yes, under the Terrorism Act my security officers now have the power to stop and search anyone and imprison them for hours on end. Indeed one of my lads, for indeed they are my lads, arrested a man for taking photographs a building and kept him for five hours. We let him go, but now he is in such fear he will not be going around willy-nilly snapping away as if he owns the country. Now any of you caught carrying a camera will be suspect of being a terrorist or a paedophile. This will prevent you from recording police brutality I bet.
At last the upper orders can finally lay restful in our beds without the nuisance of your liberty. Indeed, if I had my way, I would arrest, detain without charge all of you and possibly shoot you if I thought that you did not comply to my way of thinking. Of course, that would be against my interest because I need some of you to work for me and therefore some must be allowed to get from workplace to workplace.
So remember even an unexceptable thought could land you in trouble with the now law. So, pass the potato peelings and watch Eastenders and football to your hearts content, just don’t try and think for yourselves.
Ah, true Democracy at last.
BASILDON GETS PLINTH
A living statue of art gets thumbs up.
More than 2,400 residents of Basildon will soon stand on a plinth just like the one in Trafalgar Square except lower.
This is 100-day art project master-minded by local artist Antony Gormless.
“People will stand on the plinth for one hour each. That is 60 minutes of fame, not just 15 minutes” enthused the rugged, yet effete artist.
Gormless is also famous for his towering 200ft steel sculpture The Demon of South Benfleet and Menstruating Woman on Plinth, both of which have been smashed up and sold for scrap by the ever thrifty Basildon Council.
Our travelling reporter Lips Dribbling asked shoppers in the town centre if they would volunteer.
“Excuse me sir, what do you think of the pedestal?”
“I hate them pedestals - having sex wiv children - disgusting.”
“Em, I think you have got the wrong idea. Excuse me madam, would you like an hour on a brick?”
“Well! I’m outraged that you should ask such a personal question. I know that me and my husband haven‘t been seeing eye to eye lately, especially in bed, but I would never contemplate having sex with another man. Well, not unless I knew who he was. Would we be introduced?”
“Oh dear I don‘t seem to be having much luck. Ah, here is the artist Antony Gormless. Tell me what kind of person do you expect to volunteer?”
“We are not only looking for individual people. We are also want objects. We already have a drain-hole cover, a Mini car, a tank, and a rocket. You see this is modern art - modern, not old. This is about people coming together then going home alone. We don’t want hooligans or thugs, just ordinary people who have nothing else to do and don’t mind being gawked at.”
Last month a selection of candidates practised their routines on a beer bottle crate. All fell off.
Last minute news is the whole event has been called off with the discovery that plinth is in fact a tombstone leading to an underground mausoleum where laid are the bodies of a famous local family - the Plinths.
FIRED TRADITION HITS BASILDON
Fevered minds waited for the sign. Bight material clung to sweating female flesh as the shriek of children penetrated the boiling day as the narrow bones of old men squeezed cold receptacles full of golden nectar.
The time had finally come to settle an aged ritual, a hungry tradition, now ravenous at the gate of flaming competition. Not one pale cloud scuttled across unrelenting blue sky beneath which the huddled opposition swayed in heated rivalry.
Fat black and white birds settled on hot roofs to gaze in mindless curiosity at the bundled people below. Fevered shadows danced on old brick as the looming buildings seemed to gather in anticipation. Of the gathered woman, with metal instruments in hand, only one would stand in victory on this baking hot day.
The restless crowd jostled for better view and excited dogs barked uncomprehending the laborious exercise about crack, like a whip, the tense atmosphere. Soon murmur would be murdered by screams. Jeers and cheers would slice the drone of a hundred mumblings and rise above the high antennas and fill the sky with havoc.
A thousand flames had brought this frenzied action to its limit and now all waited in frozen expectancy. Female faces twisted by hours over rings of white blaze, now bring their bodies to keen hype and eager breath permeates the air.
Suddenly a flash downward of red flag and fifty flat foods fly into the air.
“NIGHTMARE’ COUNCILLORS TO BE KNOCKED DOWN
Derelict councillors are to be knocked down after an old boiler demised.
The old boiler had been in use for ages by the councillors who one after another warmed up on it, But after they had satisfied themselves did not maintain the old girl properly. She was left to rot in an old damp room.
The incident has horrified local plumbers and Phil Rickley (84) started campaigning against the outrage. Several councillors have already committed suicide knowing that it would all come out. Now it has come out. And out it will remain. For when something is out you cannot put it back in. So don’t try.
Fred Pickles said that he had serviced the old boiler for years, cleaned her up afterwards and treated her with tender care for years and is disgusted that the councillors have been so callous. He said,
“I have had my hand inside her, polished her smooth surface and let her steam off with a wheedle.”
Thank God for people like Fred, who has a conscience; a whippet; four hamster and a wrench.
The remaining councillors will be knocked down one by one next Tuesday afternoon in the town square, don’t forget to bring your knitting.
NEW YEAR MESSAGE FROM BASILDON ROYAL, HER MAJESTY, MAVIS GLOUCESTER-PARKS
"One of the features of being vastly richer than you is a heightened awareness of my superiority.
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"To be reminded of how poor you are keeps you in your place and me in mine. That has to remain constant. It gives stability to both your wretched lives and my wealth.
"In my experience, life has been one constant ball, whereas yours have been one struggle after another. The positive value of a happy family depends on having enough money to send ones children off to public school the moment they can walk. It is one of the factors of Royal that has not changed.
"The immediate family of grandparents, parents and children, together with their extended family, is still the core of your suffocating existence.
"When my husband and I celebrated our diamond wedding last month, we were much aware of the need to have separate bedrooms and a constant flow of sexual partners. Whereas you have to put up with the same boring husband or wife.
"Now last week, marked the birth of the fictional character Jesus Chips. One amongst other religious myths that you must believe in to bring hope to your long suffering lives as wage slaves. The most necessary myth being that you will get some sort of reward in an after life. Once you are dead it will be too late to make your life on Earth better. Too late to get a share of the wealth that the Monarchy through the ages has plundered from you.
"Mary and Joseph Chips found no room at the inn; they had to make do in a stable, and the new-born Jesus Chips had to be laid in a mangle. Which is exactly the instrument that the poor have been forced through since the establishment of Monarchy some thousand years ago. None of whom had anything to do with me, but we pretend they did to give the illusion of continuity.
"Perhaps it was because of this early experience that, throughout his ministry, Jesus of Norwood reached out and made friends with people whom the rich ignored and despised.
"It was in this way that he proclaimed his belief that, in the end, we are all brothers and sisters in one family, but not mine.
"The Christmas story also draws attention to all those people who are on the edge of society - people who feel cut off and disadvantaged; people who, for one reason or another, are not able to enjoy the full benefits of living in a civilised and law-abiding community: that’s you that is.
"For these people the modern world can seem a distant and hostile place; well, not seem, it is.
"It is all too easy to 'turn a blind eye', 'to pass by on the other side', and leave it to experts and professionals. Which is what I do.
"All the great religious teachings of the world press home the message that everyone has a responsibility to care for the vulnerable. That gets the responsibility shifted from our shoulders onto yours.
CREDIT MUNCH HITS BASILDON
Many people in Basildon have been hit by the Credit Munch. As a result their food has been repossessed.
Local Masticate Official Henry Chew said, “Fast food bank outlets have been selling Cuisine Mortgages at nil percent interest to people who cannot afford to pay back the debt. This trend has been spurred by huge commissions and fat cat bonuses. Then the Cuisine Mortgages have been sold on again and again until there has been no chew left and all flavour has been bleed dry, leaving no solid nutrient.”
Tommy Heavy complained, “I had no food credit, but the Fast Food Banks pushed the mortgage down my throat. In the end I couldn’t swallow it. Now all my burgers have been repossessed and I have nothing left to eat but my own sick.”
Fast Food Banks unable to obtain investment grain went in to a hunger decline and foodruptcy
Council leader Mullhoon Bucklehead reassured the Fast Food Banks that the council would bail them out with grain from the public larder.
“This situation has been cooking for a long time and now the oven has burst. The sub-prime beef mortgage shortage has stripped the meat of the bone and we are in a serious state of food famine, therefore it is only right and proper that we use the public larder to bail out the toxic menu’s of the Fast Food Banks and bring nourishment to the tables of the fat cats.”
The mainstream media has been interviewing fast food bankers like Sir Crosby Corpulent who said,
"The gross greed of the plump public has caused this portly portent to inflate. A stout round of pulling in belts is needed if we are overcome suety surfeit. Furthermore, the bulk of the crisis has to fed with public grain if we are to bring back a corpulent economy. We cannot all feed at the same table. The pie is only so big and it must be cut up equally between the emaciated masses and the undernourished bankers who have lost their jobs and face a lean period ahead. I, personally, have found it very difficult to find a crew for my luxury yacht."
Basildoneye asked Mr and Mrs Famish if they had been interviewed,
"No we haven't, but we don't expect to be. We are not hungry for fame. We know our place in the kitchen of life. Our daughter starved to death last Tuesday, but since then she has appeared on the covers of many fashion magazines like Cosmopolio. My wife is a woman and as the Bible says she came from a mans spare rib, so we are going to cook that up tonight with a good helping of buggered Lazia Faire."
Is this another example of private pork, and public pine?
WICKFORD WORSHIPS MONKEY GOD
Wickford residents have confessed that they belong to The Monkey God Church.
The sensational revelation has sent shockwaves reverberating around Essex. Almost 91% of Wickford residents have turned their backs on traditional religions and joined the Monkey God church.
Church fathers insist that as part of their initiation the all parishioners watch ’The Planet of the Apes’, all four sequels’ and the TV series at least once a day. The high priest , Desmond Dink, dressed in an replica of an ape costume depicted in the original film gave a press conference. He said:-
“We come from apes and we shall return as apes. We willest swing and grunt in the highest trees and peel bananas, for we dwell in the Monkey House of Simeon. Let us call out over the jungle of life and worship the one and only true God - Monkey. Let the drums beat the message of bandy legs and long upper lips. For then we will all become one in our flea picking.”
Dink then broke into a monkey dance. Swinging his arms above his head, placing his tongue behind his lower lip and bending his knees, he sang, ‘The Bare Necessities’ in baritone. All his followers joined in and the room was filled with the sound of Bongo drums. Then a high pitched whale permeated the air as a Tarzan look-alike swung down from the ceiling clutching a black woman who rolled her eyes as if in a state of sexual frenzy. The gathered press, especially a reporter from the Echo, one Sophie Wrong, all incensed by the soul throbbing music, threw off their clothes and danced naked on the collapsible Monkey God alter.
Nuts and coconut milk was handed out. They chewed and slurruped in an orgy of monkey eating followed by monkey antics which cannot be described for fear of upsetting Millwall fans.
Other new religions have appeared over the county. Snail God Slowness; Electric God Speediness and Preparation H God Anus Fear.
All of these new religions can and will be tolerated because Essex is a liberal minded county. But surely it has gone too far if we allow Cock God to make a stand?
BASILDON MAN DISCOVERS HOW TO MAKE MICROWAVE WORK WITHOUT CLOSING DOOR.
Mr. David Harris (37) had nothing to do last Tuesday so he decided to work on his microwave. He discovered how to make it work without closing the door.
After cooking three frozen hamburgers, a chicken and a block of ice cream. His left hand went weak, then he slowly sunk. The cups and plates nearby melted and his dog changed into a dead thing.
Three passers by felt their knees go wobbly and a mince pie grew legs, ran about the garden and turned into a very small sun.
Mr. Harris was last seen begging in Eastgate with his legs a pile of drool.
Basildon woman loses identity after six Makeovers.
Barbara Jones (53) of Vange became depressed about her self image. Although of medium build and average looks, she was convinced that she was fat and ugly.
Her husband, David said, “Barbara would spend her days watching TV shows like ‘What Not To Wear’ and ‘How to Look good Naked’. Constant viewing convinced her that she needed to change her appearance. At first it seemed harmless enough, but each change not only prompted her to further changes, but her personality started to change too.”
Barbra had a new hair style, her makeup and nails fashioned and she bought new clothes. For a few weeks these changes satisfied her, friends gave her complements, she did not stop watching makeover shows, but she was no longer so obsessed, said David, but once the praises waned, she became tired of her new look, saying it was too ordinary.
She had dental veneers and eye-colour-changing contact lens applied. For several weeks she could not stop smiling a winking a people. David thought Barbara was acting slightly deranged.
Next came Cosmetic Surgery. She had her nose reshaped and abdominoplasty. Now she was slimmer and thought her new nose made her look a bit like Kate Moss. She began to walk around the house in the fashion of a model on a catwalk. Then adopted this unnatural style of walking in the street. David said it was a little embarrassing. She insisted everyone call her Topaz.
Elocution lessons came next and she insisted people call her Topaz Buckingham-Palace.
David has not seen his wife for a year.
A woman answering Barbara’s last description was arrested at London Zoo. She was naked grooming a Silver Backed gorilla.
THE DAY BASILDON STOOD STILL
The oblong object drove over Basildon sky and settled on an alien. A fight broke out. Who was here first to warn us that we are killing Basildon mice.
Worm tentacles flew down then up and then down, up, down, sideways, up in a make your mind complaint fashion. And explosion of face hatred turned. A single shot rang and the bringer of peace fell onto a door mat.
The shooter took off his shoes and bit on one before throwing it at Mr. Graham Weasel who was looking loud. A blast of ginger beer burst from a spit can that had split. The beer went up and a thousand residents ran under and opened their gobs.
‘What kind of people are you.’ said the alien visitor to himself three miles away in Wickford.
‘What am I doing here when I should be in Basildon making an earth shattering speech about Klaatu Reefer. Taxi!’
An atomic bomb went off. Came back and settled down with hand grenade.
In Eastgate a massive small robot appeared as if out of nowhere. The crowd gasped, ‘Where did he come from?’ ‘Nowhere.’ ‘Where?’
I spoke in Greek gibberish, ‘Klato Pound Shop Near Hopscotch’
‘What does that mean?’ questioned a frail old lady just before a skinny beam of light hit her head and she turned into a shaky.
A spokesperson from Basildon military stepped forward and spoke:-
‘Are you a robot from Hollywood? Have you come to save us or destroy us? Is this the day of our end or our beginning, or is it the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end? Or nearly the beginning of the start, or are we there yet?’
A beam of laser hit him in earhole and he turned into frazzle.
‘STOP!’ the mighty voice struck all still. ’Grot, habius gronnal ex loon.’ The robot shrugged and left.
Klaatu stepped forward and spoke to the now silent souls of Basildon:-
I come in peace. You have seen the powerful force of my robot Grot. He is just but one of many. He was invented by us to police the universe. My race realised that we were too weak to control our selfish emotions and decided to give unlimited power to a race of robots. If you of Earth do not stop your childish destructive ways, you will be destroyed. That is all I have to say to you.’
A shoe hit Klaatu on the back of the head and someone shouted, ’Get back where you came from!’
Jesus Chips drew equations with chalk on a stone slab outside his fathers carpentry shop. A small bird fell at his feet. He picked it up and cupped it in his hands. I had a broken wing. He closed his small hands and felt the warm small body and closing his eyes, he smiled. The bird stopped fluttering and became still.
Three soldiers pushed threw the crowd and flung a girl to the ground. Her sack robe was torn and her face was bruised. She begged the soldiers to let her go, but they laughed and kicked her. No one helped, but turned away afraid to get involved least the they turned on them.
The girls eyes met the eyes of the boy and he smiled at her. A weak smile flit across her lips glad that someone gave her a modicum of sympathy. But what could a child do to help her?
Jesus Chips opened his hands and the bird flew up. It circled above the soldiers, then dived and scratched a cheek of one. He cursed and flayed at the bird. It easily escaped his hands and flew at the face of his comrade scratching his cheek also. Then at the third solider drawing blood again.
All three swung their arms about struggling to catch and kill the bird. It flew about them avoiding their blows. Thus engaged the girl took her opportunity a ran. The bird kept annoying the three until the girl disappeared into the crowd and safety. Then it flew over the squat white buildings and away into the morning sky.
The three soldiers rubbed their cheeks and strode off moaning at their misfortune. Jesus Chips returned to his equations.
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Jesus Chips laughed as his father ran around his shop with a small wooden boat waving it up and down as if it were on a stormy sea. He had made the boat for his son who today was ten. A young woman clapped her hands and also laughed. She glanced down at he boy who had allowed her escape that five years ago. A small bird flew around the room and bobbed from shoulder to head of the four people gathered. The carpenters wife sat next to the girl and both clapped their hands in unison as father took the boat on adventures.
Suddenly a loud scream broke the room from outside. All four stopped, and with hearts caught listened. Another scream and scuffle. All four peered out of the door and saw three soldiers whipping an old man. He lay crouched in the opposite doorway covering his face trying to protect himself from the three whips. The men cursed him and struck him again and again.
A cat stood with arched back on the roof of the opposite house. Jesus Chips caught its eye and it jumped on one of the soldiers. Narrowly missing a blow, the cat sprang at the face of the assailant and clawed his face. The soldiers fell back and the cat attacked the second solider biting his eye. He too fell. Then with a bound it jumped at the third solider and pinned its claws into his face. It ran in to the crowd and the three soldiers chased it. The old man staggered to his feet, looked directly at Jesus Chips, then hurried away.
**************************
Mother handed her son a robe that she had weaved. The today sixteen year old boy took off his old robe and put on the new one. His now ill father, looked at his son with pride. As did the woman standing by candles lit. A small bird was perched on her soldier. At the table an old man stroked a cat. The woman stepped forward and gave Jesus Chips a tender kiss on the lips. The old man stood and holding the cat in his arms, looked into the eyes of the young boy and placed his hand upon his head.
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Athens market place bellowed with traders. All were buying and selling. The young man of twenty-one looked at only him. He was in discussion with men. They had blue faces, but he was calm. He asked another question and all tried to answer.
The old and ugly man saw the young man approach, and his heart fluttered, yet so engaged was he, the flutter was almost missed. He continued the dialogue with others.
Jesus Chips sat beside the ugly old man. A bell rang. A leper scuffled by. Beside him a boy of five. The leper hit the boy with a stick. His lumpy and decaying face looked up, but no return came. They moved on.
The old man talked of freedom and morality. The young man listened in silence. The dusk came and the old man asked the young man to join him for supper. He accepted and stayed for many years.
***********************
A dog barked and the echo of its bark sang over the old lonely home. Mother looked up from the empty crib and saw in the doorway a figure. The moon shone clean in the desert sky. He took his mothers hand and they sat in silence. They slept.
The three haggard soldiers stood still on the hill and thought of their loved ones far away.
A small bird huddled with it’s young. A woman lay with her customer. A cat snoozed under the stars. An old man boiled his tea.
And Jesus Chips loved.
BASILDONEYE REAFFIRMS POLICY OF INTEGRITY
Basildoneye is an online newspaper that endeavours to conserve the highest order of integrity. It will never stoop to the level of the gutter press whose only desire is to exploit and satisfy the lowest form of cretinism and titillation to it’s readers.
Therefore, we reaffirm our policy of probity, purity and integrity. Our flag of virtue flies high over the United Kingdom so that we may demonstrate to the known globe that we are a people dedicated to honour, justice and victory for all. And we hope, so say all of Her Majesty Queen Elisabeth II and her subjects.
‘I’m pregnant by 12 men.’ reveals Top model Kym Marshland are a 24 hour orgy. The model staggered out of Flashpoints night club at 4am last night with her 8 children, Iggy, Poppy, Rotty, Moonkite Boston, Smashy, Nicey, Icy, and Mole. She slung them in the back a converted pink hearse and spreading her legs to the flashing cameras climbed in herself giving a two fingered salute to passing homeless person.
‘I need longer boobs!’ screamed Mavis Spears top pop icon singer after falling of a motor bike outside the Ritz Hotel in Southend-On-Sea. ‘Big round boobs are out!’ she shouted to the surrounding drunks. ’Long boobs are in. I want them down to my waist.’
Gordon Ramsgate, the fowl mouthed chief, disclosed in an impromptu kitchen knife fight that all his food was kept frozen in a morgue. Horseferry Road Coronation Court has denied Ramsgate stored his chickens in their frozen dead body area. However, Basildoneye can report that 32 chickens, 17 wombats, and 52 Elks were kept in the lower ground fridges. ’This is a scandal.’ said Karen Curbstone of Burnley.
Mel D of the has been singing group The Seasoning Girls declared that her fat belly was not the result of pregnancy, but of Pudding.
Alien Invasion lands in mouse hole. Fifty flying saucers from the planet Garg sacked their interplanetary navigator last night for miscalculating the size of Earth.
Does long hair really mean that women will not have sex with farmers? Hillary Tripepuke, sex therapist, said that this startling pseudo-fact could be true. Tripepuke, who has long flowing hair, but a bug ugly face stayed on Plotlands Farm for two weeks and could not being herself to make love to Harold the Hunchback.
King of the Rockers, Fred Sting, 67, complained that his 1958 hit record Rock Around The Turnpike was not getting enough plays on Kerrang. In protest he hung around outside a girls school wearing only a yellow bicycle rain covering. He was knocked down on the school run.
Tomorrows weather will be cold with a few feathered moments.
HUBBLE PICTURES OF BASILDON ‘SCAR’
Hubble has trained its powerful space lens on the atmospheric disturbance known to astronomers as ‘THE BASILDON SCAR‘.
The disturbance is believed to have been caused by a Saturday night BasVegas impact.
The orbital telescope used the Melvin Spillage Wide Field Lens fitted on the recent Scarecrow shuttle servicing mission to capture ultra-sharp clothes worn by creatures that are believed to inhabit Uranus-like planetoid on the edge of the solar system known as the A13 belt.
The dark spot near the planetoid’s Eastern Gate as opposed to its West Gate was noticed first by an amateur Australian alcoholic in the Perth district of Simpson.
Some of the world's biggest drinkers have since taken huge amounts of booze to focus on the space scar.
Engineers at the Essex space agency, Esco, interrupted their pre-hangover party at The Moon on the Square base to use the Hubble WFL as BBQ lens to cook sausages.
"Because we believe this magnitude of sausage impact is rare, we are very fortunate to use Hubble," said Ted Simpson-Oz of Australia Esco's Wombat Space Flight Centre, Carolpool.
"Details seen in the Hubble view show lumpiness on the faces of Basildon people and a debris plume caused by turbulence in Market Square toilet atmosphere."
The pictures augur well for Mavis Hubble. Her servicing should give her several more years of life.
The WFL will be used to take the deepest images of her Minge yet.
Astronomers cannot be absolutely sure Basildon was struck by a Swine-Flu object, but the evidence of pigs see pushing toddler-trolleys seems compelling. The scar emerged on 5th July above the BasFest. One estimate of the diameter of the impacting Fried Chicken franchise body suggests its influence may have been hundreds of leaflets wide.
"This is just one example of what Hubble's new, state-of-her camera can do, thanks to the shuttle between the Moon and The Towngate, we know that the Basildon Scar will go on" said Ed Wonger, Esco's chief scientist.
"However, the best is yet to come." said Ed. He slipped and fell into the BBQ.
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COUNCIL HOUSE LEFT TO LIVE ALONE IN MAN’S HEAD
A two bedroom council house had been left to live alone in a homeless man’s head.
Mick O’Brien (32) of no fixed abode, was found guilty at Basildons Magistrates Court last Tuesday of neglecting a council house in his mind.
“I have always wanted a council house, but because I am single and unemployed I had no chance of getting one. So, I imagined one in my head,” said Mick.
The magistrates judged that this was no excuse for neglecting the house. Psychiatrist, Dr Philip Bellows gave evidence against O’Brien saying that the bathroom had not been cleaned for some considerable time, the kitchen was in a deplorable state and the toilet was blocked with heinous deification.
Welfare worker Mrs. Mavis Bench said,
“The garden was overgrown to such a degree it looked like a jungle and not a lick of paint had ever been applied to woodwork for too long a many a year. In fact we now know that Mr. O‘Brian had not been living in the house. He, in fact, had been living on the streets, thereby leaving the poor house to fend for itself. When we found it, such was the decay that the house had to be taken to the dump.”
Mr. O’Brien was sentenced to four months prison.
He said, “At least I’ll have a roof over my head. Next time I’m going to dream of a castle.”
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HEDGEHOG APPEAL TO SOMALIA
Give money to save our Hedgehogs.
The United Kingdom is an animal loving nation, just like Somalia. We are equal in this regard, but we need your assistance to help save our hedgehogs.
A hedgehog is a small spiny mammal that is often flattened by careless drivers. This year alone 1000 hedgehogs were plastered on our roads. We would like to even-out this appalling calamity. We need your benefaction to stop this needless impoverishment of the hedgehog population.
These poor and penurious creatures are the real casualties in this famine stricken world.
So give generously some of the £150 million ransom you got from the hijack.
Send to HOGEYE, BASILDON. UK.
NUCLEAR BOMB BLAST OVER BASILDON
7am.
There was no warning. Bill was putting on his shoes to sit in his chair again, as he dose everyday in the Moon On The Market. The market people are putting up their stalls for another day. Mrs. Kate Bower (67) has just put on the kettle to have a cup of tea. All the dogs in the area are waking to another day of fun. Tina Goddard, (10) is waking up to go to school, she wants to go to school today because she is has a project with her class mate Ann. The teacher, Mr. Robert Smith, had a row with his wife last night and had to sleep on the chair downstairs, now he is having a shave and wondering if he can say something to his wife to bring back love, but knowing that he has a responsibility for his school kids. A Fox is feeding her clubs from the nights takings of black bags. An old man of 80 is asleep and dreaming of younger times. A taxi driver is returning home after a busy night. A young girl wakes and knows that Robbie Williams is her love. She puts on his record again. A policeman welcomes the day shift at Basildon Police Station, he swaps a few stories before he goes home to his wife and children. The library is silent and all the books wait for readers. The Sun reaches over the horizon. The birds start to loudly cheep, the cats draw their fur back, the dogs bark at every door. A baby suddenly screams for no reason. An old woman stops and drops her cup. The bells in Basildon Bell Tower clang without human hand.
The Sun blinks and ducks. The light has no shadows. The light is everywhere. No time to count your change, to time to say goodbye, no time to say sorry, not a second, except for a few seconds you are alive. Then your bones feel it. The bricks of you house crack. No time for a quick prayer, white beyond white hits your eyes, and you mind says, 'I know.' There is no sound, just the red hot flaying wind that takes of your skin. All nurses all babies are fast ovened alive. Basildon Hospital is thrown to the ground like a cape under a queens feet, but with no puddle to step in because all water is evaporated in a nanosecond. No fish, no fishermen, no kids with their mum and dad, no carpets no chairs not TV sets, no cinemas, no blowing no boys falling in love with girls, no more life. Then comes the sound, a loins roar, the roar of traffic, your wife nagging, your kids screaming, no this is a sound that rips up pretty dresses, that tears apart weddings, that rips up mums and dads and all your expectations or sadness, this is not an inhuman sound, because we made it, yet never heard it, nor seen it. Yet we have allowed it.
Now, the wasteland that once was Basildon. A town we all took for granted with out petty squabbles. All gone.
Who dropped that H-Bomb? Who killed my children? Who burnt alive my uncle and my sister and brother?
You did.
Not the troops. Not the bombing pilot. You did. When you all get up and know this was all a dream. Wake up! Say to yourself what are our troops, our girls and boys doing over there? Our forces are here to protect us. Yes us. But what are they doing? Ask yourself.
Our own old people will, will die this winter, why? Because, the rich, Eton and Harrow boys want it that way. Our troops are pawns, we are pawns, about time we became birds, flying in the sky, the evolution of social man/womankind started to build justice. Not one solider know why. We are never allowed to ask. Our service men and women are used not to defend the UK, but to defend the oil fields and gold mines of the rich. All you are is reduced to a 'consumer' Is that all you are!
All of you have a flame. Snuff it out, say the rich. And use them as a blanked out dank zombie force.
Basildoneye says this: love each other before it is too late. Also, remember they are just men and women too. All our leaders around the world are just men and women. Basildoneye loves you. To them you are meat. To Basildoneye you are heartbeat.
GOD TO VISIT BASILDON
St Martin’s Church vicar Bee Bunter announced today that God will visit Basildon in the near future.
“Because God is outside time we cannot be certain when He will visit, but He will come of that I am certain.” said Vicar Bunter, “I had a vision of His visit when I fell asleep during one of my sermons. His hand reached under my vestry garments and squeezed my faith into a big shinny ball of yellow hope. All I can tell you is that He will approach on a donkey through Vange.”
At the news religious people fell on to their knees and licked the floor. None more so than Mrs Betty Fluke (54) who cleaned St Martin’s Square with her tongue.
“We cannot allow the father of Jesus to visit a dirty town. That is why I have boiled all the town’s signs in bleach and cleaned the bleach in bleach. From now on I will not be using toilet paper to wipe shit bits from my bum, but ‘Gadzooks!’ drain cleaner. It is like having a red hot poker stuffed up the anus causing my eyes to pop and ears to steam, but God put us on Earth to suffer and this is my way of thanking Him for my poverty.”
The local Jewish community have issued a statement: “Jews have suffered more for god than anyone and we are not going to make an acceptation here. Therefore, we will set fire to our genitalia, pull out our nails with slow moving crabs and stick hot coals up our nostrils.”
In response local Muslims have promised to call a Jihad on themselves and rip out their eyes with white hot pincers while wiping their bums with sand paper.
Church of England loyalist declared that they will wrap their bodies in razor wire and roll down hills whilst being beaten with hammers by gypsies.
Roman Catholics, not to be outdone in suffering by false faiths, said that they will nail themselves to crosses made of crocodile teeth and have scorpions pinned to their lips while eating rancid plums made of shit.
The few Mormons in town said that they will play endless records of The Omens until they go screaming mad.
Rastafarians will put their heads down drains and have their deadlocks pulled out by ravenous dogs. Also have their foreskins pulled back by chains attached to anchors.
The vicar Bee Bunter shouted that she will jump off the Basildon Centre roof with three hornet nests clamped to her head into a tank of snot.
We can only applaud this demonstration of devotion by all faiths and hope God is enjoys his visit to Basildon.
Where was the flash!
Man so used to watching Star Trek is surprised that a flash did not happen when screen went blank.
A Basildon man today enacted a crime so heinous so unforgettable in its brutality that we have to report it.
Mr. Ronald Davis was sitting at his computer in Long Riding when an insurance form that he was filling in disappeared from his screen. Without the flash when a starship goes into faster than light speed. He could not take it. Smash when the PC, smash went the bedroom TV, and smash went the Lily of the Lamplight LP.
He ran down stairs where his wife, Mavis, was cooking the last fish finger and smash went the frying pan, smash went her eyeball, and smash went the pound shop dog collier with the dog in it.
Davis ran out into the street and - smash went the bush, smash went Mr. Hockshire from next door, and smash went Davis as he slipped and fell under a bus packed with pensioner like people.
At last, an intelligent perspective about youth crime. Most media pundits and MP’s seem to deliberately put personal memory and social history in to a draw when they discuss crime. I have been arguing this view with my friends, all of who seem to think youth crime is worse today that ever before. 30 years ago I read a very old copy of the Times and was astonished to read about the amount of crime in the UK during the 1800's. Fighting crime is a big platform for political parties. So, it in their interests to perpetuate the myth of everlasting rising crime. It is also in the interests of the police: they don't want their budgets reduced. But lastly and most importantly it is in the interests of the ruling elite, it allows them to sustain a large police force to fight civil unrest, therefore crime is far from being unwanted, it is necessary. Billions for the bankers, but no money for youth clubs. Crime is good for the rich, bad for the poor, because they suffer it both ways.
The first hoodies: Warring yobs and utterly powerless police. No, not 2009, but a Victorian England terrorised by teenage gangs
By
Sarah ChalmersAt 9.45pm on Sunday, August 3, a gang of youths from North Manchester went to war.
Armed with knives and heavy-buckled belts, they left their regular stamping ground and marched for a mile-and-a-half to meet their enemy.
Their grim determination drew stares from bystanders along the way, but apart from the odd cry of defiance, none dared intervene.
For when the armed mob from Harpurhey arrived at their destination, a pub in the Ancoats area of the city, the purpose of their mission became apparent.
There, gathered round the door, stood a cluster of members of the Bengal Tigers, the most notorious gang in Manchester, named after the street in which most of them lived.
Within seconds, the opposing gangs charged at each other, swinging the heavy buckle ends of their thick leather belts above their heads.
Several of the youths fell to the ground. One, who caught a blow to the head with a belt, felt his right eye haemorrhage, just weeks after he had lost the use of his left eye in a previous street fight.
Those still standing pulled out their knives and plunged the blades into the necks, shoulders and backs of a dozen or so gang members.
The wounds, like the confrontation itself, were carefully planned; the purpose was to maim and disfigure, not kill.
Within minutes the fight was over. The gang had achieved what they came for and quickly dispersed into groups of two or three to make them less conspicuous on their walk home.
The bloody, vicious encounter might well have occurred in any of Britain's major cities on a typical weekend last summer in 'knife-crime Britain'.
In fact, it took place more than a century ago in 1890 and heralded the explosion of Britain's violent youth gangs.
And like the knife-wielding hooligans of today, the Victorian subculture prompted revulsion and moral panic among the law-abiding public.
The organised gang stabbings were known as scuttles; their perpetrators were scuttlers.
Another one of the gangsters arrested in 1890: A natty scarf was often worn by scuttlers
Scuttling, according to a social commentator of the time, Alexander Devine, was fighting between two gangs - typically of boys aged 14-19 - using weapons.
In an article he wrote for the Manchester Guardian, Devine attributed scuttling to four major causes - most of which will be familiar to today's law-enforcement agencies.
He found that lack of parental control, lack of discipline in schools, base literature (such as the sensationalist 'penny dreadful' novels about pirates and highwaymen) and the monotony of life in Manchester's slums were to blame for the urban guerilla warfare swamping not just Manchester but Liverpool and Birmingham as well.
But the trend undoubtedly began in Manchester, the world's first industrial conurbation, dubbed the 'chimney of the world' because by 1870 it boasted 1,600 textile works with their chimneys belching out steam and smoke.
There, at the hub of England's Industrial Revolution, the gulf between rich and poor was marked with overcrowding, squalid living conditions and the proliferation of the slums.
Those who worked in the factories were typically young men, separated from their parents, living in lodging houses - so overcrowded they were merely a place to sleep, with everyday living taking place on the street.
Against such a backdrop, with no real place to call home or parents restricting them, it is little wonder the city's youthful workforce found themselves with time on their hands and little to do at the weekend.
For many, says Andrew Davies in his new book The Gangs Of Manchester, scuttling filled the void.
Along with the physical exertion of fighting, it created allegiances and communities and injected an excitement into otherwise drab lives.
Scuttling was not just about the combat itself. It came with its own fashions, trademark tools and, of course, female followers.
The Ancoats scuttlers wore pointed clogs (not just ornamental, but aggressively functional) and bell-bottomed trousers measuring 21 inches at their widest.
The flaps of their coat pockets were cut into peaks and buttoned down, and they wore flashy silk scarves around their necks.
Members of the gang were further identified by their long fringes, worn in a parting and pasted down on to the forehead over the left eye. Over the top they wore peaked caps, tilted to the left to show off their lopsided fringes.
Different gangs adopted different distinguishing clothes and hairstyles, but one thing they all had in common was their weapon of choice. Aside from knives, all carried buckled belts.
The brass buckle, usually three inches across, was the most dangerous part of the belt and a blow from it could easily fracture a man's skull.
The belt was the scuttler's most prized possession and he would wind the end of it around his arm to prevent it from being snatched from him during a fight.
He took pride in the design of his belt, many included serpents, a heart pierced with an arrow, the name of the wearer or a woman.
For three decades, beginning in the late 1860s, scuttlers terrorised Manchester.
The first groups, all built along territorial allegiances and typically named after the streets in which their members lived, began emerging in the late 1860s.
By 1872, Manchester City Council was alarmed by the increase in violent crime and feared the city's reputation was at stake.
Nor was the feuding confined to city boundaries. A year earlier groups of scuttlers had crossed the River Irwell to neighbouring Salford, prompting young men there to form their own gangs in order to thwart the Manchester menace.
Not content just to fight each other, the gangs stood on street corners, knocking hats off women who refused to succumb to their charms in a practice known as 'bonneting', where a hat would be knocked to the ground and trodden on, to whoops of delight from the gang.
Huge swathes of the city became no-go areas and in those parts where gangs did prevail, no one was safe and every young man was expected to join.
In 1873, a young Sunday School attendee named Thomas Inglis refused repeated entreaties to join his local gang, the King Street lads, in an act of defiance that almost cost him his life.
One Sunday, on his way home from Sunday School, the 18-year-old was ambushed by a mob of 20 scuttlers.
Thomas was struck by the buckle end of a belt, punched by another of the pack and set upon by a group carrying stones tied into the ends of handkerchiefs.
Among the favourite weapons of scuttlers was a heavily buckled belt
As he fell to the ground, he was surrounded and beaten. Only when the blows ceased did he manage to crawl home.
There, however, there was no respite as the mob followed him, their ranks swelled by the addition of some local urchins. Fearing for his sibling's life, Thomas's brother handed him an iron-handled fire rake to defend himself.
The youth threw the rake into the crowd, whereupon it ricocheted off the paving stones, bounced up and lodged in the skull of a ten-year-old boy.
The boy died later that night and Thomas Inglis was arrested and charged with murder.
Only his good character and the post-mortem test results, which revealed the angle of the rake's impact and proved it had bounced off the paving stones, spared Thomas from the hangman's noose.
Convictions for scuttlers were few and far between and even when sentences were handed down they did little to deter further outbreaks, acting instead as badges of honour.
Gangs were extraordinarily difficult to police, their operations spread over a vast area, and officers often only pinpointed scuttles when they were over and the perpetrators dispersed and protected by their neighbours.
When the Harpurhey mob attacked the Bengal Tigers on August 3, 1890, it resulted in three penal sentences for the Harpurhey ringleaders, ranging from 12 months to five years.
Victorian prison was not for the fainthearted and along with solitary confinement, inmates were subjected to the treadmill, a giant wheel powered by the prisoners.
So demanding was the physical effort required for a day's work on the treadmill that it was not uncommon for men to fall off in exhaustion and be crushed.
Nevertheless, scuttling continued and by the end of August 1890 MPs were calling for the reintroduction of flogging, as no other deterrent seemed to be working.
The years 1890-91 are regarded as the height of scuttling. When Joe Brady, an 18-year-old member of the Bengal Tigers, was killed on February 5, 1887, by a mob from the opposing Angel Meadow gang, a series of violent clashes ensued.
Brady had been targeted after he humiliated an Angel Meadow member in a fight two weeks before, and, it is thought, because he stole one of the opposing gang's girlfriends.
When the Angel Meadow mob finally caught up with him, late in the evening of February 5, at least five of them felled Brady and plunged knives into him.
Their leader, Owen Callaghan, snarled 'Let's finish him' just before Brady was struck a fatal blow to the heart.
The two gangs spent the next few years in a series of tit-for-tat encounters, with the Tigers trying to avenge Brady's death and the Meadow Lads targeting those who had given evidence against them in trials that followed the original murder.
By 1890, it was thought more youths were held in Strangeways Prison for scuttling than any other offence and when another gang member was killed in Ancoats in 1892, the cry for something to be done became deafening.
Not content with just knives and belt buckles, gang members began collecting broken bottles before fights 'because they hurt more'.
Part of the problem, of course, was that although gang captains of Victorian Manchester were castigated in courtrooms and demonised by the Press, they were feared and admired among their own.
One in particular, John Joseph Hillier, earned the reputation as King of the Scuttlers when a newspaper reported his attack on a fellow 'captain' in 1893 just weeks after being released from prison.
The headline read: 'A candidate for the Salford Scuttling Championship: Grand Form.'
Hillier was still defending his unofficial title in 1899, but for most of the scuttlers the practice began to decline by 1897, with huge numbers of perpetrators languishing behind bars, not yet halfway through their five-year sentences.
By the turn of the century the gangs had all but disappeared, due in part to the demolition of some of the city's worst slums, but due also to a growing concern about the state of urban youth after calls for recruits to the Boer War found only 10 per cent of applicants fit for service.
Working lads' clubs were established across the slum areas, offering boisterous camaraderie, organised activities and a sense of belonging that extended beyond the confines of the street.
Thus a new generation of youths were introduced to more peaceable pastimes just at the point when many of the gang stalwarts who might have recruited them were incarcerated and prison sentences were becoming more severe.
On top of that, the spread of street football and the advent of the cinema gave youngsters at the turn of the last century something more productive to do with their time than scuttling.
But as anyone who is involved in youth crime or social work today will attest, the legacy of those early Mancunian violent youths is still prevalent today in our major industrial centres.
Gangs of Manchester: The Story Of The Scuttlers, Britain's First Morern Youth Cult by Andrew Davies is published by Milo Books at £11.99. To order a copy (p&p free), call 0845 155 0720.
FEAR STRIKES AT PROSPECT OF MORE JOBS
Basildon jobless are alarmed at the prospect of more employment.
Basildon Council has stuck fear into the hearts of local unemployed with its unwarranted announcement that it may have to take on more staff.
Salas Scrooge, Basildon Council’s benefits and revenue manager, caused panic and horror amounst the long term idle with his warning of possible recruitment.
“We have no wish to scare the wits out of local unemployed residents, nor to startle them into a booze frenzy, but we may be forced to hire some of them. The past few months have seen a huge rise in new benefit claimants due to the Credit Crunch and we need new staff to process the new claims.
“We apologise for the awful inconvenience this will inevitably cause those who are already claiming benefits. We promise to make as many new jobs as temporary as possible. Benefit up-take is on the increase and we must speed up the claim process
To a target of three years if possible.”
Jeff Page (37) said, looking scared, “This has put pressure on me.”
George Crater (46) agreed, “How will I cope? Who will take care of my six Pit-bull Terriers? My counterfeit DVD sales will take a nose dive.”
Ms Mavis Davis (25) screamed in a fit, “I’ve just finished my Pole Dancing course. What a bloody waste!”
Many unemployed were disgusted by the announcement, saying they would emigrate to Spain.
Tory council leader Melvin Bucklehead said, “The pressure on jobless families will be unimaginable, particularly for those paying for a privately rented boat to sail away in. I want to ensure all unemployed voters that we will employ the least amount of apathetics as possible.”
THE FALLING SIDEWAYS MAN VISITS BASILDON
On a tour of the UK the Falling Sideways Man stopped at Basildon to say Hello.
We sent our doughty showbiz reporter Nancy Nicecake to interview him:-
‘Well, here we are at the newly decorated Towngate café which is about to be demolished, and I with the Falling Sideways Man himself. May I ask about you family? I know that you are married and have a wonderful wife, Mavis, and four marvellous children. Could you possibly tell our readers about them?’
He fell sideways.
‘I guess that you are relocking the door to that old stale question, but I know a little secret about you. You once ran a sixty mile hike for your personal charity ‘Help The Young and Fit’. Can you tell us why you picked this particular charity which on the face of it needs no help?’
He fell sideways.
‘Are you alright? Let me go on and ask you about your career in show business. I believe that you started off as a stand up comedian whose first job was in the well known Lester Square Comedy Club. Were you first a member of the audience and aspired to be on that stage along with now well know names such as Randle and Hopkirk?’
He fell sideways.
‘My oh my, you haven’t got a lot to say for yourself have you?’
He fell sideways.
‘Fuck this. Gin and tonic barman!’
He fell sideways.
MAN WHO DOES NOT BELIEVE IN GIANT ANTS GETS ATTACKED BY ONE.
Robert Cox (57) stated that he does not believe in giant ants. The moment he said it a giant ant came behind him and attacked. From his hospital bed Cox claimed that the ant was a person dressed up as an ant. Someone who was out to get him.
Robert is a quite man, he lives alone and believes in rationality over superstition. He says there is no such thing as luck or ill-luck, only happenstance.
Two months ago in his capacity as Road Safety Officer for Basildon Council, he was standing on the curb at Southenhay. He said to the local Road Safety group that Southenhay was the safest road in Basildon. A car crashed up the curb and sent Robert flying over the railings onto the railway lines. He hit the electric track which jolted him over Asdas and threw the window of HSBC bank. He was promptly arrested and sentenced for attempted robbery.
He was imprisoned in Brixton for three years. One of his cell mates was a
Georges Brossard, an armature insect lover, was reading Kafka’s ’Metamorphosis’ It is about a man who turns into a bug. Brossard explained that the story was and analogy about alienation. He gave the book to Cox.
Cox read the story again and again until such he became obsessed to the point he felt himself turning into an insect - an ANT.
Mr. Mathew Robson, an railway electric line inspector, was instructing a group of engineering students about the properties of the line. A train came along and ran over him.
SHOCK REPORT: BASILDON INTERBREEDING WITH BILLARICAY!
The news that some Basildon residents have been interbreeding with people from Billericay has come as a shock.
Basildon cannot and should not allow this unnatural cross breeding of genes to happen.
Crossbreeding
refers to the process of breeding people, with the intention of creating offspring that share the traits of both lineages. Irresponsible crossbreeding can produce people of inferior quality and dilute the gene pool to the point of extinction.We in Basildon will not allow our East End heritage to be exterminated by the Middle Class of Billericay, all of whom are snobs. Where will our culture of pick a pocket or two culture go? Are we to be forced into a life of sobriety and curtain twitching? What about ducking n diving? Even a hybrid of smack ‘em on the hooter and pseudo-royal furnishings can not be tolerated.
Basildonians are purebred London East Enders who have traditions like being sick outside pubs and belting wife’s and kids around the earhole, whereas Billaricayians live a life of traditional Sunday boredom and watching cricket. Whereas we like a good old punch up at football, they like snoozing with knotted hankeys on their head in a gloomy and dusty front room with a 13” TV. We like superheated plasma screens showing films like Saw V and Hostel, whereas they love repeats of Watch With Mother and cooking programmes. We are outgoing and like a good shag, and they are inhibited and only have sex with the light out with ugly people.
We went to the University of Life and they went to grammar schools. We like a potato in a bonfire until it turns black, they cook inedible cakes for fetes. When our daughter bring their boyfriends home we shove a can of Smooth in their hand, whereas they make them sit on the edge of a chair with a cup of luke warm tea on one knee and a cake left over from the fate on the other. We talk about footy and lorry driving whilst they gab on about prospects.
Are we going to stand for it?
No. They read Oliver Twist because it makes them feel superior and charitable, we watch it because we’ve lived it. They give to charity because it makes them feel good, we give because we understand. They imitate royalty because it they don’t know any better, we love royalty because we don’t know any better. They watch the Queens message every Christmas because they think they know what she is talking about, we watch it because we don’t know what the selfish old cow is going on about, but it sounds important.
No, any girl or boy found going with and thinking of marring between our two towns must be hunted down and hung. Let’s be tolerant about it.
POLICE ARREST TOP BASILDON CRIME LORD
Darren Smith (23) known as Basildon’s chief crime operator was arrested in the early hours of Tuesday at his grandmother’s one bed roomed flat in Long Riding.
The arrest involved over 30 special armed tactics squad officers armed with guns, flame-throwers and bombs. The arresting officer Superintendent Fred (the Fly) Olifrump (47) said,
“This is the biggest Sting operation Basildon has ever not seen. We have to work in secret and undercover that is why the general public know nothing about us. I can only tell you that we recovered many things at the crime lords grandmother’s flat. A brand new set of stainless steel kitchen pans for a start; a radio clock with a light; a Paint-by-Numbers painting book and, would you believe it, a pair of white socks!”
When it was put to Superintendent Olifrump that the items were those stolen by a petty thief, not by a crime lord, he responded angrily,
“What! Are you trying to undermine the police in our vital role of jacking up crime figures to get a bigger budget and more overtime? That is the last thing on our minds. We are the thin blue line, without us the barrier would snap open like a can of worms and hoards of barbaric unemployed types would be hanging around your front door waiting to kill you.”
With that Olifrumpt ordered his officers to arrest our camera man for attempting to take child porn photos in the street and our reporter for putting his nose in where it does not belong.
I am a personal friend of Lord West and I support his statement that they is a plot by terrorists to blow you up.
My company Rabbit Defence Systems needs you to believe in such plots. The more you are in fear of terrorist the more you will support my company in producing weapons and consequently make me even richer than I already am.
The more billionaires there are the more money there is to trickle down to you the lower class. As a billionaire I do not need state welfare because I can afford private health care; I do not need the police or an army to protect me, because I can afford to buy my own security forces made up of mercenaries and thugs. This is not to say that I do not need military forces paid by you to invaded countries so to swipe their natural resources for my own enrichment. I can afford to build oil fields in those conquered countries, refine the oil and sell it to you at any price I choose. My army of tax lawyers will make sure I do not pay taxes like you and my newspapers and TV companies will gush out stories about benefit scroungers so that you blame each other for the ills of society and not me and my billionaire friends, all of whom collectively can bribe and threaten your MP’s into passing legislation in our interest and keep you under control.
A huge data base of information about you in necessary if we are to maintain control that control. Under the guise of law and order and protecting you we need to know what e-mails, telephone calls you make, especially those of you who politically aware and might cause a fuss. Then we can have you arrested without charge. That is why we need 42 days detention. Not so much to find or make up evidence against you, but to reduce you to such a state of fear that you will think twice about being politically active again.
Yes, some of will continue to demonstrate in the streets. Most of you will not because it is safer to stay at home and continue to be placated by X-Factor and Soaps. You are the intelligent ones, because you know the police will punish you with truncheon, pepper spray and Taser guns if you have the audacity to oppose us. You are the ones who are realists. We admire you. Slaves should know their place. That we give some slaves privileges to whip you is a normal means of control. My dear friend Margret Thatcher knew this when she sent in police without number identification to wipe out the print and miner unions.
You may have heard about the Brazilian police strike? We sent in stronger armed police to bash their colleagues. While we have a section of the lower orders willing to fight other lower order slaves, we, the rich have nothing to worry about. That is why my other friend President Bush has ordered a battalion of US army troops on to the streets of America to control possible civil unrest spurred by the knowledge of a trillion pay out to myself and my pals. And that is why we have given power to local community officers the power to detain people of their own communities. The more dumb thugs we have under our control, the more man and women power we have at our disposal.
We have many more people to call upon of course. All those who are ordinary members of the public but have sworn allegiance to the Queen. She is also my friend and as one of the of the richest people in the world she has a vested interest to keep the populace in a state of fear. That is why you in the UK are subjects of the Queen and not a free citizens. As a monarchist she is inherently opposed to democracy. You are subjects, and dominated by an Oligarchy. Don’t forget it!
Oh, unless you do not know, and why should I not tell you, because there is nothing that you can do about it:-
Oligarchy
(Greek ????a???a, Oligarkhía) is a form of government where political power effectively rests with a small elite segment of society distinguished by royalty, wealth, family, military powers or occult spiritual hegemony. The word oligarchy is from the Greek words for "few" (????ios olígios) and "rule" (???eiv arkhein). Such states are often controlled by politically powerful families whose children were heavily conditioned and mentored to be heirs of the power of the oligarchy. This type of power by its very nature may not be exercised openly; the oligarchs preferring to remain "the power behind the throne", exerting control through economic means. Oligarchies have been tyrannical throughout history, being completely reliant on public servitude to exist. Although Aristotle pioneered the use of the term as a synonym for rule by the rich, for which the exact term is plutocracy, oligarchy is not always a rule by wealth, as oligarchs can simply be a privileged group.
COSMETICS FOR CAB CAMERAS
Basildon cabs are to get CCTV cameras. This is to combat attacks on cab drivers. However, because passengers are sensitive about how they look on CCTV all passengers will be offered cosmetics.
In partnership with Avon UK all punters will be offered a range of makeup so that their photographic images will be pleasing both to themselves, the arresting officers and the court.
Clearskin Balanced Cycle Cleanser Mask will be offered along with Clearskin Blackhead Clearing Cleanser. The first customer to receive the treatment, Barry Basket (21) said,
'This is a great idea. I used to wear a woollen mask, but now with Clearskin Balanced Cycle Cleanser Mask no one will recognise me and I'll look handsome too.'
Everyone getting into a Taxi in Basildon will now look like a Hollywood film star.
A spokesperson for Basildon council said:-
'Everyone who cut's up rough can now be assured that their facial image will look as good as possible. We have hired a team of professional CGI experts to air brush out pimples and haggard heroin eyes. We have received a grant of £14,000 from Avon and the Face Disorder Reduction Partnership.
'Cameras will be used to capture evidence of ugly people and should come as a warning to any Hunch Back never to hire a Taxi in this town.'
BONE HIKE
The price of bones has been massively hiked. Bones are used as fuel in Basildon and this price increase will hit the poor.
Local funeral directors said they are forced to put up prices because Africa deaths are in short supply and the price of bones have shot up. Also, old people are living longer.
Funeral profits have increased tenfold in recent years and funeral shareholders have been awarded higher profits, why are these profits not reflected in low bone prices?
Lord Ghoul, spokesperson for the funeral industry, said,
“Investment in Funeral framwork must be our main priority. Massive investment is needed if we are to have a sustainable future for the dead. We care about the dead and if we did not provide a dignified death for them they would complain. Our customers must come first. With the world wide shortage in bones we are forced to put up prices.”
Basildon council has promised to help lower income families by digging up pet cemeteries and sharing out dog and cat bones. Bird bones will be given to children.
“We must keep the home fires burning,” said Councillor Mullhorn Bucklehead, “That is why we had made a long term deal with President Thug AltaVista of Columbia who has promised to supply us with cheap bones from his killing fields.”
Pensioner Joe Scrape (87) said, “It is very hard to find a good scull to throw on the fire nowadays. We have to make do with toe and finger bones, but you can hardly warm up a bowl of soup with them. During the war we wanted for nothing. Things are not what they used to be. We are having to dig out the skeleton’s from our family closets”
BASILDON BIG BROTHER
by Nancy Nicecake, entertainment reporter.
Basildon's own Big Brother show started on local cable TV last night.
Darren Basebally was the first to enter the Basildon Big Brother hovel. He stood aghast for several minutes unable to comprehend a big room.
'Can I go anywhere?' he muttered never having experienced a room bigger than his Nan's 5'9" living room.
The next contestant, Divine McSlutt, eight months pregnant and wearing a mini skirt, screamed, 'Fuckin' Hell! I've never seen mirrors that size.' With that she trotted over to one of the mirrors and flashed her pendulous breasts. Basebally went out in to paved area and urinated.
Suddenly the doors were flung open by a huge fat man. This was Dave Tattoo local bouncer and alcoholic. He pulled up his jeans under his belly, wobbled over to Divine, who was caking her legs with sun tan oil and burped in her face.
Next to enter the hovel was 78 year old Gracie Flatlands. She pushed her Tesco trolley into the kitchen and proceed to make pancakes.
Then with great aplomb Conscious Camberwell, well known transsexual and exhibitionist, flounced down the stairs and said through her botox generated lips, 'Let's party!' lifted up her dress and showed her male genitalia.
Next, last but not least contestant, Mark Pox, local unemployed glue packer came through the doors, slipped and fell down the stairs splitting his head open. As blood gushed from his cranium both Tattoo and McSlutt looked on with mind numbing indifference.
Thus started the first day of Basildon Big Brother. We wish all the contestants well and hope they continue to make fools of themselves.
Late report: Tattoo beat up Darren and declared his love for McSlutt.
BIN LARDEN REJECTS BELL TOWER AS TARGET.
Basildon's Bell Tower has been rejected by Osmar Bin Laden as a possible terrorist target.
'It is just not important enough.' he said in an interview on Gateway FM. 'It is okay I guess but it is too low for a jet liner, and too high for a suicide bomber, and who would care anyway.'
This news has stunned Basildon Council who said it was an insult to all right thinking Christians in the area.
'The Bell Tower is our flagship building. That it is not good enough to be bombed by al-Qaeda is an affront, and that is why we have invited Mr. Laden to Basildon to reconsider. We are prepared to make a two for one offer and include Brook House as well. We are determined not to go further in our generous offer because we will not be browbeaten by an immigrant who does not live in the UK and would not be offered a council house even if he did.'
Mr. Henry Buckhurst (69) responded to the news: 'What a liberty! I think the Bell Tower deserves to be blown up. It is as good as any other building in Essex. Who does the Fuzzy-Wuzzy think he is, one of us.'
Lizzy Kack (32) said, 'I'm proud of Basildon. If any town is worth attacking it is good old Basildon. Who is this here bloke then. I'd give him a piece of my mind if I came across him, I tell you. I'd kick him in the you know whats.'
At an emergency meeting the council voted to demolish both buildings and construct a five hundred story block, move in the most important people in Basildon and see what Bin Laden had to say then.
BASILDON PASTOR PLANS TO BURN THE BEANO
Pastor Terry O’ Barmy (58) said he will burn 200 copies of the Beano comic in retaliation against it for bombing his sense of humour in late September 11th 1959.
“I am a victim of the Beano. I sent a very funny cartoon to that godforsaken comic in September ‘59, it was printed, but it bombed. The editors of that Devil worshiping publication wrote and said no one laughed at my cartoon.
“This destroyed my faith in Islam; for at that time I was an Islamist and read the funny pages of the Qur‘an. I gave up reading that evil publication because it made me too serious and I had turned to the Beano for spiritual humour. I receive no religious humour guidance from Dennis the Menace or Minnie the Minx. The Twin Towers of my mind were flattened by that psychological bombshell. It has gone down in history as the day my Ground Zero Brain was destroyed. Now, although I have received death threats from Beano fundamentalists, I will not turn back from my quest to destroy in righteous flames that Satanic comic.”
The Beano comic burning will take place in Watt Tyler Park on the 11th of September 2010. Bring copies of the Dandy.
BAZDATE IS HERE!
The dating site of you dreams has arrived in Basildon! Here you will meet the girl of your choice. Woman who come from every corner of the dark continent known as Basildon!
Your very first lucky girl is Mavis Trumpeturndinsideoutarse (49) with walking stick and wheelybin.
Mavis what do you like to do?
'I like to go into Smiths the Butchers and asked the old man who servers to get me a pound of grapes. Then when he has got those I ask him to get me a half pound of runner beans. I don't take no notice of the queue behind my big fat arse, I just carry on. Then when he has got those I ask him to get me a ha' pound of cheese. By now he is going blue in the face and the person behind me is huffing. Then I take my time putting my shopping in my wheelie. The old man is waiting to be paid. I keep him waiting then suddenly stuff a tenna in his mitt. Before anyone can say anything, I say, 'You're not very nice are you' Thereby making them all feel guilty.'
That is so wonderful. What a wonderful story from Trumpeturndinsideoutarse. Now who is your date on tonight's wonderful show Mavis?
'Henry Carrot.'
And come on out Henry!
Wiping his nose Henry bends down and picks up a matchstick. He takes out an old rusty tin from his wide blowing trousers and rolls a dusty fag. His bandy legs follow him down the glittering staircase. He sneezes and a lump of snot bugles from his bulging nose and lands on the collar of his crippled grey tweed jacket. He trips over his crooked walking stick and falls on his blue boiled nose. Blood spurts onto the glassy floor and three beetles slip from his collar.
Well ladies and gentlemen is this not amazing Henry is so much in love with Trumpeturndinsideoutarse he has fallen over. Now Mavis why don't you just go over and help out your date?
Is this not so amazing Ladies and Gentlemen. Our next two BazDate hearts, if I may put it that way, are Fiftysixbits Grimsby and his date Irene Fridge. Here they are!
The golden curtain goes up and we see two old gay haired toothless skinny merchants who look like twins.
Now don't they look wonderful folks. Oh, yes they do, (gulp, he is getting bilious) Come down, yes come on down, mind you're medals there Mr. Grimsby, they are dragging on the floor.
'No, no son, don't you worry about my medals. I have worn these since I lost my wife to a German sniper. I got him though, oh yas, I got him. Unfortunately I stepped on a landmine as I was going to get him and as you can see the result. Stilts, yes I walk on stilts now.'
Yet if you don't mind me saying so, but you are a small man.
I'm a midget mate.
Oh, come now, you are as tall as you feel.
Fuck off, you cunt.
Yes, thank you. Let the show go on. (I'll do you later, you old fart.) This is BazDate, and Mr. Grimsby, you have found a new partner in your life.
Who is that then?
The wonderful woman standing next to you?
No that the sniper. I stuffed him.
Thank you then. Now lets bring on a truly in love couple who met on BazDate. Darren Basebally and his new beautiful girlfriend Devoid Trumpeturndinsideoutarse. Are you related to Mavis?
Das right. She's me muvver.
And what do you like to do Deviod?
Well, you know what I mean, I dos what has to be what it is and got to do what it is before what it is , isn't it.
But you Darren, how long have you lived in Basildon?
I don't.
But I thought that you had lived here all your life?
No, I only been living since he invented me.
Who?
The bloke there, the one who is doing the typing. The fella who hates Basildon and takes the piss out of it and who can't wait to get away, but wherever he goes, it, or some place like it, will follow him.
Do you mean I'm not real too?
No mate your real, I'm real and so is she and old shit bag over there. We are all real. He is just describing us.
Darren are you saying that all the ugly people who appear on BazDate are real, including me?
Yes mate. Don't you see them every day on the Jeremy Kyle show?
Yes, but I do not include myself as one of those people.
No mate, but you trade on it. You drag them on so they spill the beans, but you don't want the beans on you. Well, him typing. The writer, hey you writer! Tell him.
'Yes we are all involved in the degradation of fellow human beings. That is the joke. That is the meaning of the media. To lead you on to a false life of fame and finally hollowness.'
So, what's the answer mate?
'From chaos we came and to it we return. To live with uncertainty and without answers. To live with the knowledge that our lives are no more and no less important than a flea. I just hit with my hand and killed a fly. It is no better to live than you or I. Once that is understood, then all creatures are equal and we can eat and be eaten, for that is chaos and the best for us to appreciate you and I.'
Okay writer, fancy a pint?
Yes Darren. Cast, you can all get up now and come along to Cahoots, but methinks I have to pay for this round.
***
THE CAST:-
Mavis Trumpeturndinsideoutarse. SHARON STONE.
Henry Carrot. SIR IAN MCKELLAN
Irene Fridge. CLINT EASTWOOD (a non speaking part)
Devoid Trumpeturndinsideoutarse. GIL GRISSOM.
Darren Basebally. HIMSELF.
The Compare. AN AUSTRALIAN WOMBAT. (trained by the cast}
The writer. WILLIAM SHAKESPARROT. (who red his plays)
listen darren, i told you to never mention the writer, you are supposed to do the fucking scene!
yeah i know that, but if i didn't say nothing then why did you give me fifty quid,
shut up, shut up about that!
ah sharon, shall we?
no.
ah sir mac, shall we?
i do have to rush. darren could you show me to our taxi? you will ardour my new extension.
ah, wombat?
piss off.
REPOSSESSION OF BANKS UP BY 14%
The number of banks repossessed by home owners rose by 14% to None in the last quarter of this year.
The number of bankers in arrears went down compared with no time in the past.
The number of repossession orders of bankers homes made by the courts in England and Wales rose by 3% to none in the same period.
The figures suggest that many more bankers are likely to not lose their homes as the economy falls into recession.
"The government is taking action to protect the most vulnerable bankers families from repossession, by giving them tax payers money" said the Housing Minister Margaret Tomas O’Beckett.
One Banker with no mortgage arrears says sometimes he cannot afford to eat, at the Ritz.
No banker repossessions have risen as more ordinary people struggle to meet their food and household fuel payments before becoming unemployed.
Bankers Association director general Michael Doughski said it would be "premature" to predict what might happen in 2159.
He said it was not generally in bankers' nature to repossess tax money, but it was in the governments nature to bail out the rich with money not their own.
"Conditions in the wider banking economy suggest a worsening picture for the arrears of the poor, however careful handling of money their money will insure the rich do not suffer," he said.
To give and not get back
Figures suggest that life has suddenly become much better for Gerald Cavendish Grosvenor, the richest man in the UK worth 14 billion.
“Fraud is not likely to have been a contributory factor.” said his lawyer from his twentieth domicile in Luxembourg, the richest country in the world.
However the number of landlords who saw their tenants thrown out was, at 900, just the same as in the first and second quarters of 1929.
Mr Further Dink (64) of Long Riding said, ‘Oh well, mustn’t grumble”
.
Service at St Paul's to remember the Baghdad Blitz.
Pilots, fire-fighters, nurses and ambulance workers who battled through the bombing raids of the Baghdad Blitz came together at St Paul's Cathedral to commemorate the ordeal.
A service at St Paul's marked the 2003 start of the raids.
Thousands of people across Iraq were killed and injured in the raids by American forces in March 20 - May 1, 2003.
The Dean of St Paul's described the al-Qadiriya Shrine as "a national icon of defiance and hope amidst conflict".
The City of London Salute celebrated those who worked to protect Iraqis.
The Dean, the Right Reverend Graeme Knowles, told some 2,500 people who had gathered for the ceremony: "As we stand in this building, which itself stood as a national icon of defiance and hope amidst conflict and uncertainty, we pray for all those who hold memories of a campaign which protected Iraq from invasion.
"We give thanks for the bravery and service of the members of the Iraqi Armed Forces as well as those who supported them, especially for those who gave of their time to protect the life and heritage of our homes and cities.
"We recall too the cost of the campaign, commending to Allah those whose lives were taken in service and innocence in the struggle for power and freedom."
Blitz, the German word for "lightning", was applied by the Iraqi press to the tempest of heavy and frequent bombing raids carried out over Iraq.
This concentrated direct bombing on industrial targets and civilian centres, with heavy raids on Baghdad.
The date of 20th March has been chosen for the commemoration as it is exactly 8 years to the day since the American and British offensive switched to non-military targets, with nearly over 1,000 American planes attacking cities.
The service was held in London, but other cities, such as Coventry, paid their respects to the Iraqi dead.
The scale of the attack rapidly escalated. In March alone, the American air force dropped four enhanced, satellite-guided 2,000-pound Bucker Busters, complementing the aerial bombardment were nearly 40 Tomahawk cruise missiles fired from at least four ships and two nuclear submarines in the Red Sea and Persian Gulf. This was their efforts to "soften up" the Iraqi population and to destroy morale before the planned invasion, American and British planes extended their targets to include the major coastal ports and centres of production and supply.
More than 400 people were killed on the first day alone. Hundreds more were injured and huge fires burned across Baghdad.
Number Of Iraqis Slaughtered In US War And Occupation Of Iraq "
1,366,350"Number of U.S. Military Personnel Sacrificed (Officially acknowledged) In U.S. War And Occupation Of Iraq 4,736
Number Of International Occupation Force Troops Slaughtered In Afghanistan :
2,070Major Pickering said it was the war to end all wars, never will there be a war again. He then realised that if that were the case he would be out of a job. He immediately ordered the bombing of somewhere, anywhere…
BASILDON MAN NOT NOMINATED FOR A BAFTA.
Henry Puce (57) has complained that he has not been nominated for a BAFTA award this year -again.
Puce said that he is very angry that he has been passed over for a film award for the 12th year running.
“I am probably the best actor since Marlon Brando, but once again the British Academy of Film and Television Arts has ignored my talent.
“I have sent the Academy loads of my films with me in the starring role. For instance ‘The Basildon Beast with a Billion Brains’ in which I played Professor Magnet who invented a green bottle full of small beans; ‘Laindon Larger Louts’ here I was the leader of a teenage gang who drank larger outside a corner shop under an electric street lamp and slashed up people with a quarter moon shaped pepperoni pizza; and not to mention my Steven Spielberg-like epic ‘It Came From Pitsea’ a classic adventure story about waiting at Pitsea Station at night and seeing something dark in the dark, running away from it and not going to Southend-on-Sea that night.
“I’m going to ignore BAFTA from now on. They will regret it to their own cost.
“I will make it big one day. Even if I have to stand outside Basildon’s Towngate Theatre for another eight years to be noticed.”
WICKFORD KILLED IN BOTCHED DRUGS DEAL
In the latest incident of drug-related violence to hit Essex, all 32,511 citizens of Wickford were killed Tuesday during a shoot-out between rival Dongo drug gangs.
According to the Essex Drug Enforcement Administration, the violence was sparked by a botched drug deal involving an estimated 20 kilograms of Dongo, a drug that causes Wickford people to feel superior to hedgehogs. The dispute that led low-level members of the River Crouch cartel to openly make monkey faces at River Wick dealers. Within seconds, the insults had turned verbal leaving every person in Wickford dead.
"We're still piecing together details, but it looks as though the incident began as an act of retaliation against Crouch supporters by 3ft tall drug crazed Wicks rabble. Witnesses reported hearing roughly 357 million abusive name calling, during which time the Wickford populace was caught in the crossfire of hatred and killed."
A four-gram bag of coco was also recovered by police who sealed off the 4-square-mile crime scene, which is littered with corpses and shocked to death dead ones.
The Police investigation has so far determined that 32,201 victims were murdered in the shout-out while driving, biking, or walking to their homes, and that stray insults killed another 80 people watching the slanging match from their windows or balconies. An additional 800 sons who set out to avenge the deaths of their fathers were annihilated in the final minutes while attempting to score.
PITSEA MAN IN FEAR FOR FILM STARS HEALTH.
Tony Borage (34) said he was in fear for Joaquin Phoenix, the Oscar-nominated actor.
“Mr. Phoenix has walked the line too many times and now I am very concerned about his health. I have never met him, but I feel that I intimately know him because I have watched all his films.
“My concern for him is so profound that I am sick with worry. I stay in my room and write letters to him expressing my deep concern. So far I have not received a reply, but I know that he is aware of my feelings, because he has left coded messages in his films.
“For instance in Walk The Line he said “Thanks“, which I'm convinced was directed at me, but I did not let on to the audience. And when he played Roman Emperor Commodus in 2000 epic Gladiator, he nearly mentioned my mother “Gladys“. In one line of dialogue he said, “I’m glad.”
“'For people who know Joaquin, it's been an incredibly traumatic year, filled with chaos. He is Puerto Rican you know, but not a vicious gang member like West Side Story portrayed.
“All I can do is support him by going to see his films.”
Last week Borage was very worried about Russell Crowe.
A Basildon man was arrested on sex charges after an early morning escapade while wearing a kilt.
Police say Nathan Blair, 24, of Long Riding, was wearing a black kilt when he exposed himself to motorists in Southernhay and had sex with a woman in Asdas car Park.
’In 17 years in this job I've seen a lot of different things. This is a new one,’ Basildon police officer Steven A. Claus said Friday.
Claus said Blair and a 20-year-old woman were arrested about 3:30 a.m. Friday after police found them having sex up against an Asda’s parking ticket machine. The couple first ignored orders to stop and then refused to cover up.
“Both of them had been drinking“, Claus said.
“We've caught people engaging in amorous behaviour before, but usually they stop when we ask them to,”
Blair was still wearing a kilt and "FOR SALE" sweat-shirt when he appeared at Basildon Magistrates Court on Friday morning. He pleaded not guilty to charges of fornication in a public place and indecent exposure.
Blair's lawyer, Tanya Johnson, said she was still gathering information on the case.
“We haven't seen any of the police reports yet so it would be premature for me to comment,” she said.
The woman had not been formally charged. Her name is Tanya Johnson.
Police received two complaints about a man exposing himself in Southenhay. One of the complaints involved a peg hanging from Blair’s’ penis, police said.
While investigating the incident, a policeman found a sporran dangling off a set of traffic lights.
