Britain's Greatest Living Olympian

Splurge Debunker is probably the UK’s most famous contemporary athlete. Especially since her stunning victory and gold medal in the Freestyle Ladies Radiator-Bleeding final in London 2012. A contest where she won gold against some very strong opposition, especially from the Norwegian Sopwith Fjordbasker.

It was, of course the controversial decision by the Spanish judge to award Debunker 17 (out of a possible 9) points for artistic interpretation, which enabled Debunker to get through the semi-final against the Russian Expectyouto Diebondski. After the match, the Russian team complained against the ruling. However, later analysis of the slow-motion replay of the Norwegian judge’s calculations, carefully examined by the Olympic Federation’s own mathematicians, showed there had been no foul play and there was nothing illegal in his use of the calculator.

Debunker survived a doping scandal early in her career, when it was discovered her ability to bleed up to seven radiators a session was fuelled by excessive amounts of strong black coffee and digestive biscuits. However, the use of coffee as well as her aerodynamically-designed ergonomic radiator-bleeding key was ruled not in contravention of the strict Olympic standards for competitive radiator-bleeding.

Debunker’s radiator key itself was designed by the Olympic team also responsible for designing the ears of Britain’s gold-medal wining cyclists and high divers. There, the problem of wind-resistance against such protuberances can seriously diminish the scores of such athletes by an astonishing 0.000001%. Enough – at this level of competition - to have an almost discernible effect on both the athlete’s performance and their results. Or at least to make a suitably-adjusted graph look impressive in Olympic funding-allocation meetings.

So, Debunker herself is bound to go down in British sporting history as one of the all-time greats of competitive radiator-bleeding. There are rumours that their will be some recognition of her great achievement in the next New-Year’s Honour list. A recognition that is both timely and more than well-deserved.

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[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

The Coming Apocalypse

When it began, we – of course – were ready.

Nearly.

As is the way of these things, popular culture had prepared us well for the threat. Everyone who’d watched a film or some TV, played a computer game or read any genre fiction was well-prepared for the immanent zombie apocalypse.

So, when word of the apocalypse spread, building rumour upon rumour, everyone was ready. We all expected the streets to be thronged with legions of the undead, thirsting for the fresh brains of the living.

Ah… if only it had been that easy.

Everyone had been wondering, well, quite a few people anyway, just why the world need quite so many celebrities. Of course, if is a well-known tenet of media theory that the world’s tabloids need a constant fresh supply of young ladies falling out of their dresses at various high-profile celebrity events. But that alone could not explain just why there were now so many so-called reality TV programmes churning out a constant stream of these new celebrities, most with the media half-life of a fatally-irradiated gnat.

But, as some conspiracy theorists pointed out, every army needs its infantry, its cannon-fodder.

Then everyone laughed at the paranoid imaginings of the conspiracy loonies.

Until it was too late.

No-one is laughing now.

Not now the brain-destroying celebrity hordes are on the rampage down all our High Streets. There they surround innocent people going about their own business. The celebrities then force the ordinary people to engage in mass inane conversations about trivia and banal minutia until their brains explode. Then the ravening celebrity zombie hordes can feed and gorge until it is time to seek out the next victim.

And people used to laugh when some warned of the dangers of celebrity culture for our precarious civilisation.

Who is laughing now?

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Contemporary mathematics

Spindizzy Legobrick is probably the UK’s leading contemporary mathematician. He is famous for solving both Goldfinger’s Postulation and the world-famous Cheese Imponderable first formulated by Gödel during a slow Wednesday afternoon.

As most mathematically-literate people are aware Goldfinger’s Postulation claims that each number can be written with either straight lines (such as 1 or 7), or with round curvy bits (such as 6 and 8). 2 of course features both a curved bit at the top and a straight bit at the bottom, and 5 has the straight bits at the top and the curve at the bottom as Legobrick proved.

Gödel’s Cheese Imponderable however is not so straightforward to resolve. As first stated Gödel’s contention that in an infinite universe there must be some chesses that are not very nice does seem uncontroversial. Especially to those who have not performed any in-depth mathematical analysis of not only the cheeses that do exist, but also of the cheeses that could exist in an infinite universe.

For example, even though it runs counter to common sense, in an infinite universe it would be possible to make cheese from all manner of ingredients. Ingredients from car tyres through to geography teachers. Surely, Gödel argued, in his paper introducing the subject, some of those cheeses would not be very tasty. By using certain equations that go beyond the scope of this article he proved – at least to his own satisfaction – that a cheese made of 17th century wardrobes fittings would be very nasty indeed.

There the subject rested until the invention of computers. With computers of a significantly powerful processing capacity such as today’s supercomputers Legobrick argued it would be mathematically possible to model several million cheeses. A sufficiently-powerful computer, he argued, could find many – but not all - palatable cheeses made from a whole gamut of ingredients in the time it takes to make a decent serving of cheese on toast.

This paper, by Legobrick, was presented to the Proceedings of the World Mathematical Cheese Society early this year and met with both wild acclaim and peer approval. Straight away, several mathematicians with access to such computers rushed off to see if they could come up with a cheese made from ingredients that contradicted both Legobrick’s thesis and were still quite tasty.

However, as this article goes to press it seems that Legobrick’s contention that most – if not all – such cheeses made from ingredients not usually used in cheese making only a finite quantity of them would indeed be edible still stands uncontested.

It will be interesting to see if cheese mathematicians of the future ever do come up with a non-standard cheese that is as tasty as a nice bit of Stilton and thus disprove Legobrick’s solution to Gödel’s great Cheese Imponderable.

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[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

The Superhero Saves the Day... Probably

Then… suddenly…!

No… hang on….

Then with all the haste and alacrity of a Public Inquiry she strolled into action.

He trembled in terror. Well, there was a frisson of irritation. ‘Yet again,’ the supervillain, Upstart Naughtyman, snorted, looking down. ‘Yet again have you thwarted my plans for world domination. Curses!’

Fixed-Penalty Notice Woman stood for a moment, arms crossed, as she glared down upon Naughtyman as he tried to find something in the sub-clauses of the fixed Penalty that would enable him to evade justice yet again. ‘It says here I have to pay a fine for attempting world domination without the necessary permits?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled to see him cower and tremble in the face of the notice. ‘There are…’ she added, ‘also some concerns about the health and safety standards at your secret volcanic island lair.’

‘What? How did you discover all this?’ Naughtyman felt his plans crumbling all around him.

‘You had to apply for planing permission for your secret island, didn’t you?’

‘Curses, foiled again.’ Naughtyman knew there must be some way he could complete his plans for world domination without some interfering superhero thwarting him. Last time it had been VATInspectorman and his sidekick PAYEboy who stopped him. Thwarting his plans to build a secret nuclear-missile submarine base in Tewkesbury, when they discovered inconsistencies in his VAT returns. Also that he’d been paying his horde of devoted minions less than the minimum wage. But, now this…. He looked up into the uncompromising eyes of Fixed-Penalty Notice woman and he knew he’d failed again.

‘My job here is done!’ Fixed-Penalty Notice woman said. ‘So, if you’d just countersign this receipt for my legitimately-incurred expenses. I can be on my way to fight for truth, justice and the bureaucratic way!’

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Undercover Policing and its Drawbacks

Of course, those that first met PC Splank Horology off-duty, knew little of his secret life as an undercover policeman. The persona he adopted, of Hotwire Treehugger, was part of an attempt by the police to infiltrate one of the UK’s most notorious extremist environmentalist organisations. The first such operation since PC ‘Stan’ Nark had posed as a dandelion to gain entry to the nascent underground Free Festival scene back in the early 1970s.

As the police eventually realised, many extreme environmentalist movements are far from being the benign force for good that a naïve glance at what they claims to be true would suggest.

Therefore the decision was taken to insert an undercover police agent into one of the more extreme sects of this proto-religion. A group then known as the Eco-Taliban. An extremest sect that even refused to walk on the ground in case they traumatised an earthworm. Only making an exception – of course – for their compulsory treks to the dole office.

Many of the sect’s activists attempted to overcome the crisis of conscience caused by the walk to the dole office by attempting to master the art of levitation. Something that even their shaky grasp of science and/or reality should have told them was doomed. Especially when one of their leading lights, Daisy Birchkisser, failed to levitate off the White Cliffs of Dover. Thus becoming a substantial source of nourishment for those very imperilled earthworms she’d sought to save.

This irony was not entirely lost on her followers. Two of whom also lost their lives whilst trying to erect a sustainable shrine to her in the very spot - just a few feet from the cliffs - where she’d failed to levitate above. They and their shrine did the same as Birchkisser, also failing to levitate. All much to the delight of all the - now morbidly-obese - earthworms in the vicinity of the area they plummeted to.

It was at this point that Hotwire Treehugger appeared on the scene. Arriving just as the Eco-Taliban were about to stage their most spectacular protest. They wanted to attempt to stop several local gardeners from mulching their allotments and thus – they believed - upset the karma of the local earthworms.

Treehugger warned against this action, knowing, though his experience as a local bobby, how handy several of the allotment-holders could be with a well-aimed dibber.

However, Treehugger’s reluctance was put down to cowardice and he was sent for re-education with one of the group’s wise philosophers and activists, Geoff Monobrow. Monobrow explained to Treehugger just why bunnies were so fluffy. Also explaining how everything would be eternal summer and wonderfulness as soon as the group assassinated every Briton with a car. Then they would turn the motorways back into ley-lines. Every motorway services would then become a place of sanctuary for local wildlife. A place where the birds and earthworms, the foxes and the newly-liberated domestic fowl could all live together in universal peace and harmony.

As this vision of bucolic nature living in harmony unfolded before him Treehugger broke down. He confessed that he was really PC Splank Horology and he would be resigning from the force the very next day to become a member of the Eco-Taliban as soon as possible. Thus enabling the worldwide eco-revolution to take the western capitalist world back to its rightful place in the Middle-Ages.

Later, in a press conference, the Metropolitan Police denied all knowledge of either PC Splank Horology, or his alleged undercover pseudonym of Hotwire Treehugger. The fact that several lorryloads of documents had been shredded as soon as the news broke was, as the chief constable said, ‘Just one of those things.’

Meanwhile, it can now be exclusively revealed that Hotwire Treehugger is now living with a female rabbit and their kits in a hole just off the ley-line formerly known as the M6.

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Politics in the UK

Pembroke Doolaly is probably best known to the UK population as one of the foremost exponents of riding the British political gravy train. He has been at the top of British politics now for almost forty years. Thereby surprising a great many of those who take an interest in politics by still being alive.

In his early days, as the son of the Earl of Doolaly, Pembroke, of course, joined the Labour party, anxious to be seen as one of the people. Providing of course, none of those people got too close.

He inherited the seat of Puddletown South in that great Labour tradition of nepotism from his uncle Bacillus Troutcock, who gave up the seat when he became Lord Troutcock. Troutcock entered the Lords pledging to work tirelessly to bring about the end of inherited wealth and privilege.

After serving in the Labour government as Secretary of State for Cabinet Meeting Chocolate Biscuit Provision, Doolaly saw the writing on the wall. He crossed the floor of the house to join the Conservative party in time for the rise of Margaret Thatcher. His constituents all bought their own council houses with money provided by Doolaly - which although technically illegal was covered by parliamentary privilege - and Doolaly’s natural aptitude for political blackmail.

In the Conservative party he rose to Chairman’s assistant in charge of buying stamps.

For a while when the Tory party waned through the Major years, Doolaly did consider joining the Liberal Democrats.

Instead, in a crisis of conscience and cash flow he rejoined the Labour party under Tony Blair.

While out canvassing in his seat, Doolaly saw real poverty for the first time. Pembroke was aghast to discover there were some households, after living for three or more work-less generations on benefits, who had TVs with screens that did not fill up an entire room. Some of them had been forced to choose between pay TV subscriptions and feeding their children. With some of those children reduced to eating as little as seven packets of crisps, and less than the national minimum of 14 litres of fizzy drinks, a day. ‘Some of the children weren’t even obese,’ a shocked Doolaly said on leaving one house where the woman and her 46 children had barely enough benefits to keep them comatose through ingesting cheap lager by the bucketful. The woman had even confessed she was forced to give her new born baby milk ‘like some savage in darkest France… y’know where the giraffes come from?’

Once more entering cabinet, where he claims he hid in a cupboard during the Iraq war discussions. He claimed he was out of the room fetching Gordon Brown a new mobile phone when all the wrong decisions were taken.

After that, he thought about joining the Conservative party again, but decided it wasn’t worth the bother of having to rejoin Labour at the next election after that. So, he decided to stay on the Labour backbenches in opposition and continue making money, where he remains to this day. He is almost as rich, wealthy and privileged as those on his front bench who taunt the Tories opposite for being rich, privileged and out of touch. Something that could never be said about Doolaly after his impressive parliamentary career, and his herd of libel solicitors held on retainer. He has promised to step down at the next election with his safe Labour seat democratically awarded to his own son, Trainshed Doolaly.

Truly, a fitting end to a glittering career in politics.

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Hollywood's Current Leading Star

Slingback Chaingun is probably still Hollywood's most famous leading slab of acting muscle, despite rapidly approaching his 85th birthday, or as his publicist insists, nearing 45. Still with a full head of jet black hair, the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime crossed with a mountain gorilla. He is also – allegedly – well-endowed enough to make a stallion feel inadequate, Chaingun is rapidly approaching his 65th year in the movie industry.

Some say he is typecast as the misunderstood rebel on the side of truth and justice with a massive gun. Other critics, however, see this more as an in-depth study of the modern world. An examination of the crisis of masculinity that forces men to take on overwhelming odds armed only with a miscellany of high-powered weaponry.

Many feminist critics, though, dismiss Chaingun and his whole oeuvre as conforming to outdated stereotypes of masculinity. In particular the role of the male in society as warrior with the innate male understanding of which end of the gun the bullets come out of.

However, in the real world, away from academia, Chaingun remains a star in the only way that matters. His last twenty-seven films have all been massive box-office successes, especially the last 14 films in the phenomenon that is Shooty Kill-Death Mayhem (parts V-IXX). 

Here Chaingun plays the rogue Green Beret Steve Massacre in his seemingly never-ending quest to take on every failed state, dictatorship, terrorist organisation and jungle location. All in a solo attempt to rescue brave American captives from torture, abuse, un-American involvements and certain death. Each in a multitude of cinematically-gruesome ways as the scriptwriters can imagine. All while the US government does all it can to disown, discredit and abandon Steve Massacre to his fate. 

At least right up to the last act, where they discover he is winning. They then send a helicopter to take the captives back home to a hero's welcome and a massive boost in the polls for the incumbent president. Meanwhile Massacre is left behind in the jungle to await the discovery of yet more innocent Americans in peril.

All of which goes to show why even at the great old age of 85… 45, Slingback Chaingun is still at the top of his game, and long may that continue.

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Britain's Best-Known Solo Yachtswoman

Topsail Spinnaker is these days probably Britain's best-known solo yachtswoman. Only last year she completed spectacular solo journey where she sailed all the way across one of Birmingham's widest canals. A journey that took almost an hour. Now she is all set to – sometime in the next few years - attempt the task of sailing along a canal lengthways, possibly for several hundred yards.

Of course, Spinnaker began her solo sailing career mainly because those who had seen her sailing abilities always had something else to do on the days she asked them to go out sailing with her. Not only that, her local coastguard and the local RNLI crew both banned her from any attempt at sailing out to sea. This did prevent her attempt to sail solo from Tenby to Caldey Islandin what would've been a world's first for someone with as little sailing ability as Spinnaker. As her own proud mother once said, referring to Spinnaker's childhood exploits, Spinnaker 'couldn't even sail a boat in her bath without it sinking'.

It was only after the teenage Spinnaker first took driving lessons and ended up parking her instructor's car in the Irish sea that it was suggested that Spinnaker could have a natural seafaring aptitude.

Although, as some have pointed out Spinnaker does have a rare talent amongst solo yachtswomen of having an innate sense of direction when sailing. The only drawback being that direction is usually downwards.

Consequently, Spinnaker's sponsors and backers – mainly deep-sea salvage companies and wetsuit manufacturers – decided that perhaps Spinnaker's true gift lay in inland sailing. An area not usually associated with solo yachting and thus one – they felt – she could make her own. It would, they felt, also keep the rescue helicopters in base long enough for a much needed refit after her last seventeen attempts to get a yacht out of Tenby harbour without it disappearing under her.

Still, though after her circumnavigation of the UK's canal system next year there is talk of Spinnaker's name appearing in the New Year's Honours List. Mainly in recognition of her services to the maritime salvage industry. That is, of course, if she can manage to reach Buckingham Palace after crossing the Thames in London without drowning.

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

One-Hit Wonders

Stylophone Trabant is – these days – probably the world's leading Rock Star. As lead gobshite with the UK's current (for this week at least) all-time greatest rock band Toad Entrails, he first came to attention on their number 32 hit single – Serving Suggestion.

With its intensely profound lyrics detailing just how to cook some instant noodles, this song seemed revolutionary in the staid and conservative rock music world. Set to a heavy metal version of a traditional Norwegian fishing song, the music was played on an accordion and bagpipes and featured a foghorn solo. So Serving Suggestionwas different enough to the run of the mill chart dross to get the attention of some of the country's most self-important music critics.

Although, these days music critics are no longer as significant as they like to think they once were, back in the heyday of the NME, Melody Maker and the Walsall Daily Advertiser. Even so, these days some people still do occasionally notice there are people who are paid to write about music. It was these music critics and their championing of Toad Entrails as the next big thing which brought Stylophone Trabant and his suspiciously well-filled trousers to the attention of the public. A Public growing increasingly disinterested in the music business and the posturing fools who think it owes them a living, as well as a drug habit equal to the GDP of several combined undeveloped economies.

However, it will be (almost) interesting to see if Toad Entrails and Stylophone Trabant himself can live up to the hype built up around them. They do claim they have nearly three notes of the next single already recorded. However, many are now beginning to feel they will be yet another band to add to the ever-growing list of one-hit wonders in pop history.

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

Dark Twisty Corridors

As so many times before the TV programme makers have – despite the odds – come up with another great example of the programme-makers art. Each episode of Dark Twisty Corridorsappears to be better than the last. 

Each week our heroes, sexy Doctor Improbable Chestbumps and her nervous sidekick Steve Questionable end up chased down several, seemingly never-ending dark twisty corridors. Chased either by a monster or an explosion, sometimes even both.

Although, the programme makers defied everyone's expectations for the three-hour long Christmas special. In that episode our brave adventurer and her nervous sidekick were chased down several extra-long dark and twisty corridors by an explosion right into the path of that episode's extra nasty (as befitting the season of peace and goodwill) monster. A monster with three heads and a deadly-poisonous elbow.

However, some critics have dared express even slightest reservations about the programme. Those that survived the multitudinous social media death squads hunting them down, revealed several plot flaws in the programme. Pointing out that it seems slightly improbable that, week after week, a person of Chestbumps intelligence would find herself stuck in dark twisty corridors, invariably with a faulty torch. Especially so, when it is known - usually – before they set off there is a monster down there and/or a chance of an enormous explosion. 

 It appears that each week there is an explosion at the end of the programme. Usually where they do that diving for safety hand-in-hand thing just as they reach the exit. Just as the billowing explosion of flame and smoke passes over, inches from their heads, just in time for Questionable's pithy, but apt, one-liner to end the episode.

However, the rest of us know the programme is sheer genius and thus look forward to the blinkered short-sighted TV network cancelling it too soon. Then we can take our justifiable outrage on-line until they reverse the decision as we knew all along they would.

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

A British Sporting Great

Well, these days the name of Binomial Herbidacious is little known outside the sport of running about for a bit for no real reason. But back in her heyday Herbidacious was a leading contender for Olympic gold in the British team at the Carlisle Olympics of 1876. A remarkable achievement, especially since the Olympic games would not begin for another twenty years. But one of Herbidacious's great strengths was her starting speed out of the blocks.

In fact, it was reading of Binomial Herbidacious's talents that got a young Albert Einstein interested in both the speed of light and the effects of gravity. Mainly as Herbidacious was competing well before the invention of the dedicated sports bra and was a lady of generous frontage. In fact, several competitors in races against her, complained that Herbidacious already had an advantage of a few yards before the race even began. Many said she could win a close race even with most of herself still behind her opponents.

Her talent was first noticed at school, even though during those strict Victorian days it was not regarded as proper for young ladies to exert themselves physically. Especially as most of them needed a long lie down after divesting themselves of their very restrictive Victorian corsets.

In her infant and junior school years, Herbidacious was unbeaten at the egg and spoon race. She won it every year on her school's annual sports days. But disaster struck when she moved up into secondary school and her physical development made it impossible for her to keep her egg in her spoon without her generous proportions knocking the egg from the spoon. Nor could Herbidacious herself even see if her egg had fallen from her spoon without the aid of a mirror.

Her heartbreak was short-lived however as her sports mistress took a keen interest in Herbidacious and her physical development. In fact, in her autobiography Herbidacious credited her sports mistress and Herbidacious's attempts to evade her attentions, especially in the showers, as a major factor in Herbidacious's remarkable powers of acceleration from a standing start.

Lately, there have been calls to make this great sportswoman of an earlier age into a figure of national pride and importance. So that is why the current government, ever eager to boost their populist credentials, have decided that a statue to this leading figure in the UK's sporting development should be erected.

They promise to commission a statue as soon as they can afford to pay for the sizeable amounts of bronze needed to full realise Herbidacious and her spectacular assets at anything near life size. So naturally the government is looking to the public to make generous donations to the statue fund. The government has pledged to match out of funds it has already appropriated from the public, thus making us all pay twice – and probably well over the odds as usual with any government project.

So please give generously to support this monument to this country's great sporting heritage.

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

Something for the Weekend - Free Kindle Humour: The Theory of Car Parks

The Theory of Car Parks

Available FREE for the next 5 days for the Kindle:

Here (UK) or Here (US)

The title piece of this great new collection features an historical appreciation of the great car park theorist; Heinrich Von Rectangle, his life, work and tragic untimely end.

In over a hundred other essays, a wide variety of subjects of interest and fascination to the modern reader are also discussed:

Such as:

The latest the latest European Union Working Time Directives .and how they relate to the employment circumstances of the undead.

In science, the ramifications of the Biscuit Tin Event Horizon are explored in an attempt to aid our understanding of the physical forces that make biscuits, pies and other such foodstuffs irresistible.

There is also some very exciting research with throws new light on the development and history of the spoon.

This book also features a report on the new TV phenomenon taking the world by storm that is Live Celebrity Woodworking.

Along with:

An appreciation and celebration of the cult film: 2030: A Lingerie Odyssey which featured the world’s first lingerie-wearing supercomputer.

An essay celebrating the Victorian inventor who famously developed Spadgecock’s Wildfowl Distractor.

A look forward to what will undoubtedly be this year’s film of the year: The Penguin Always Eats Omelettes.

An appreciation of on of the forgotten classics of Romantic poetry in: Ode to a Stickleback and Romanticism.

A study of the role played by the British army’s use of camouflage pastry to bring about the end of the First World War.

Along with articles and pieces on other similar fascinating subjects, such as: Full-Frontal Cookery, The Great Cheese Conspiracies, International Celebrity Underwater Cheese Grating, The Sensual Arts of the Secret Accountancy Sect, The Unauthorised Use of a Banjo, Post-War Extreme Sports and much, much more.

Available FREE for the next 5 days for the Kindle:

Here (UK) or Here (US)

Some Reader Comments:

I think I just broke all my vital organs laughing”

“oh my god….I just about died laughing reading this…it’s genius! Pure genius! Especially the bit about the fluffy particle…too funny.”

“This made me laugh so much, tears came into my eyes….”

“this really made me laugh. I shall never look at a cup of tea in the same way again.”

“Brilliant! Made me howl…”

“highly creative and hilarious as always”

“lol this is so funny.”

“on the one hand I’m so glad I decided to read the rest of this collection (funniest thing I’ve read in a LONG time) but on the other hand I wish I hadn’t done it during dinner as I just sprayed barely masticated tomato all over my keyboard from laughing too hard”

“good god, I haven’t laughed so much in ages. “

“very funny, I had a good laugh at this story”

“Clever, and very funny.”

Available FREE for the next 5 days for the Kindle:

Here (UK) or Here (US)

Something for the Weekend - Free Kindle Humour: Choosing Headgear for Penguins

Choosing Headgear for Penguins

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

No doubt you have been wondering over the years about what is the most suitable hat for the various breeds of penguin: such as a deerstalker for the King penguins, or whether emperor penguins should wear a top hat.

Perhaps you have also wondered if Napoleon wore a basque under his uniform at the battle of Waterloo and the role that lingerie played in history.
Maybe you have long puzzled over the role of the Stilton cavalry in the English Cheese war.

Possibly you may have pondered who was The Greatest Prime Minister Great Britain Never Had, or who was The Fastest Jelly Baby Diversity Co-Ordinator In The West.

You could have even puzzled over The Fabled Lost Source of the Pork Scratching.
Choosing Headgear for Penguins is the book that answers all of these and many other questions you’ve never thought of asking as well as much, much more about such diverse topics as: Celebrity Extreme Gardening, Eroticism and the Intellectuals, People Staring At Walls, Raiders Of The Lost Car Park, The Latest Celebrity Sex Scandal, The UK’s Leading Adult Film Male Superstar and Weasel Defusing.

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

Some comments on David Hadley's humour pieces:

"Bloody Hilarious!"
"The hamsters of doom. Dammit, that's poetry. Well done"
"oh my god....I just about died laughing reading this...it's genius! Pure genius! Especially the bit about the fluffy particle...too funny."
"This made me laugh so much, tears came into my eyes...."
"I just sprayed barely masticated tomato all over my keyboard from laughing too hard"
"this really made me laugh. I shall never look at a cup of tea in the same way again."
"Brilliant! made me howl..."
"I think I just broke all my vital organs laughing"

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

Battle-Ready Marmalade

Now the No First Use Of Battle-Ready Marmalade Treaty has been signed by the world’s leading powers, the hope now is that it will see the end of those small battle-ready catering portions of marmalade that cased so much trouble and frustration during the now infamous battlefield breakfasts of both world wars.

The disasters of the battlefield breakfasts of the First World War now seem obvious in hindsight. It is said of that war that tactics had failed to keep up with technology. This was certainly true of battlefield catering, especially the essential front-line breakfasts. Both sides suffered massive losses of toast and butter, and the British suffered heavily from not being able to get a nice cup of tea to the front line in time. Hence, in the latter stages of the war, the invention of the tank, this was meant to be a massive self-propelled tea urn capable of crossing those muddy battle-scared shell-holed battlefields to get tea to the front line while it was still hot. Both sides had experimented with artillery delivered toast with mixed results, often with the toast ending up uneaten, muddy and soggy in the quagmires of the western front.

However, by the time of WWII, many of the technological and logistical problems of the trench-based battlefield had been solved, leading many military strategists feeling that war between any of the major powers would no longer be possible.

However, the change of tactics in the Second World War to concentrate on movement meant that the marmalade needed to be ready for immanent toast application within minutes of an offensive being launched.

However, once the British boffins developed the shrapnel-proof biscuit, it was more or less all over for the Axis forces, especially when the might of the American War machine began producing overwhelming quantities of toast.

Once WWII was over, the cold war began with the ever-present threat of mutually-Assured marmalading. However, such was the West's overwhelming superiority in breakfasting technology – leaving aside the woeful under-substantial Continental breakfast, of course, - that after only 30 years of attempting to match the West's increasingly sophisticated range of marmalades, the Soviet Union conceded defeat when NATO produced its first intercontinental Three-Fruit Marmalade, ready for deployment. Only a few days later the Berlin wall collapsed and some claimed history had come to an end.

Something for the Weekend - Free Kindle Humour: Choosing Headgear for Penguins

 

Choosing Headgear for Penguins

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

No doubt you have been wondering over the years about what is the most suitable hat for the various breeds of penguin: such as a deerstalker for the King penguins, or whether emperor penguins should wear a top hat.

Perhaps you have also wondered if Napoleon wore a basque under his uniform at the battle of Waterloo and the role that lingerie played in history.
Maybe you have long puzzled over the role of the Stilton cavalry in the English Cheese war.

Possibly you may have pondered who was The Greatest Prime Minister Great Britain Never Had, or who was The Fastest Jelly Baby Diversity Co-Ordinator In The West.

You could have even puzzled over The Fabled Lost Source of the Pork Scratching.

Choosing Headgear for Penguins is the book that answers all of these and many other questions you’ve never thought of asking as well as much, much more about such diverse topics as: Celebrity Extreme Gardening, Eroticism and the Intellectuals, People Staring At Walls, Raiders Of The Lost Car Park, The Latest Celebrity Sex Scandal, The UK’s Leading Adult Film Male Superstar and Weasel Defusing.

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

Some comments on David Hadley's humour pieces:

"Bloody Hilarious!"
"The hamsters of doom. Dammit, that's poetry. Well done"
"oh my god....I just about died laughing reading this...it's genius! Pure genius! Especially the bit about the fluffy particle...too funny."
"This made me laugh so much, tears came into my eyes...."
"I just sprayed barely masticated tomato all over my keyboard from laughing too hard"
"this really made me laugh. I shall never look at a cup of tea in the same way again."
"Brilliant! made me howl..."
"I think I just broke all my vital organs laughing"

Available FREE for the next 5 days: here (UK) or here (US)

On the Use of Camouflage Pastry

It was the subtle use of camouflage pastry on their battlefield steak and Kidney pies which allowed the King’s Own Queens regiment to get within 50 yards of the German trenches during one of the decisive battles of WWI.

Up until then, with their camouflaged sauerkraut, the German forces had an inherent battlefield advantage over the allied troops, especially over the French army battlefield baguette, which had a tendency to leave a trail of crumbs that any German spotter plane could follow, enabling it to discover precisely where the French troops were massing for a pre-battle dejeuner. Often too, the number of corks left behind, as well as the piles of empty wine bottles, were very useful clues to any German spies operating behind the French lines, eager to learn more vital tactical details of the French battlefield menus.

As the First World War progressed, the British army became very cunning in their use of cardboard breakfasts and inflatable sausages which they used to fool the enemy as to the true intentions of the Allies. Once, a regiment managed to fool the Germans into calling off an attack by pretending to order several hundred bottles of brown sauce in time for a pre-offensive breakfast, knowing that the Germans would intercept the signal. The Germans knew that brown sauce was a vital component of the British infantry bacon sandwich and therefore calculated they were facing far more enemy troops than they actually were.

Originally, the invention of the tank was seen as a way of quickly getting hot food to the front-line troops. Initially envisaged as a mobile snack van, armoured against enemy fire (and also against a possible explosion of the famously volatile British battlefield gravy), the tank was intended to bring hot food right up to the front line while under fire.

However, because of the limited visibility, and the heavy steam build-up inside the tank as they prepared some fresh custard for the troops, the tanks missed their stopping places on the British trenches and went on to overrun the German positions with the British troops running behind them with their dishes, all eager for some fresh custard on their battlefield apple crumble.

Obviously, for the final push which won WWI, the British battle-ready Cornish Pasties were essential. Unfortunately, the Germans had – at that point in the war – perfected the anti-pasty sniper, capable of blowing the crust off a hot pasty from the relative safety of the German trenches and thus totally demoralising the British troops as they were about to ‘go over the top’ with the pasty. Therefore the British high command eventually realised that some sort of camouflage pastry would be essential. However, for the subterfuge to work, the precise placement of the pasty was all-important when matters of camouflage and deception were involved, so that the camouflage pastry of the pasty blended into its surroundings.

Fortunately, however, the British front-line chefs had run short of flour and other ingredients necessary for making the pastry for the pasties and had resorted to using mud which, luckily, made the Cornish pasties blend in perfectly with their surroundings as the trenches at that time consisted of various defensive arrangements of mud.

Thus were the British able to camouflage their frontline battlefield pasties ready for the final push, after the German army’s severe sausage shortage led to the failure of the Ludendorff Offensive to achieve any of its strategic goals, so then when faced with the overwhelming Allied advantage in battle-ready Cornish pasties the Germans had no choice but to surrender, thus bringing about the end of the First World War.

A Journal of the Plague Years

Still, I suppose it could be worse. After all, there are very few of them still around these days. Occasionally, you hear reports of a Labour one hiding out in an inner city, or a Tory one hunted down by hounds after living wild in the woods, but mostly these days the plague of politicians is at an end.

It started slowly like all things do, with only a few politicians here and there around the country, all easily manageable and containable in council buildings and the Houses of Parliament. Then, though, they started spreading. A new strain of politician emerged through the EU; with its open borders allowing politicians, infected with virulent continental strains of politics, into our communities, thereby spreading the disease and infecting more and more people.

There was a time in the 1980s when a virulent form of Left-Wingery took hold, infecting mainly those young enough to have not been inoculated against politics by time and disillusion. The outbreak causing those it infected to spout such idiocies as ‘everything is politics’, striking fear in the hearts of normal people everywhere who all know almost nothing ‘is politics’ and that if something does becomes polluted by politics, then the politics can easily be eradicated with disinfectant and strong bleach.

Soon, though, people began to see politics for the illness it is, and the first culls began, along with a country-wide immunisation plan where those suspected of having any unhealthy contact with the political virus were given doses of reality in order to strengthen their weakened natural immunity.

Still, though, despite all the advances in our understanding of the disease of politics, it does keep spreading. The problem seems to be that politics, especially in its more extreme Left-Wing and Right-Wing mutations, does seem incredibly virulent, considering that anyone who becomes infected soon looses all ability to act rationally, or engage in normal life, without descending into political name-calling and petty point-scoring with anyone that infected person comes into contact with.

With such high contagion rates, and the political virus’s growing resistance to increasingly high doses of reality, it has often been thought that isolation and quarantine is the only way to control the spread of the disease and stop the spread of the zombie-like plague of political-opinion espousers from running rampage through our world.

However, no matter how much we barricade ourselves behind our front doors, or pretend to be out, when the political-infected take to the streets at election time, there seems to be a steady increase on the amount of politics we are subjected to, and little chance of any of us escaping falling victim to it soon.

Therefore, if at any time you start to feel yourself beginning to agree with a politician, or start thinking that it may be a good idea for you to join a political party, please make sure you visit your doctor as soon as possible for a check-up before it is too late and the rest of us - one day - discover ourselves being implored to vote for you.

In Close Proximity

Even if you are one of the many people of this fair isle who know, understand and appreciate the correct way to place a banana next to a social worker without falling foul of any sexual harassment, diversity or Correct Use Of The Banana legislation, then you may not be aware, no matter how diligent you are, that the EU's latest ruling on similar activities to this has now outlawed eating jam sandwiches in the close proximity to any local council worker, no matter what the date.

This is, of course, in direct contravention of the age-old British tradition of eating jam sandwiches in the close vicinity of a council worker – depending on what part of the country you live in – on Whitsun Monday, Easter Good Friday, Midsummer Day or National All-Praise Tesco Day on the third Friday of June.

This is a tradition which dates back into the mists of time, possibly going back to before there was even such a career option as a council worker, or even sliced bread, maybe even as far back into the mists of time as the birth of Cliff Richard, which archaeologists now place somewhere in the early Cro-Magnon period.

This tradition is recorded as taking place in Victorian workhouses and many of the facilities for the poor and unfortunate that existed before then: such as poor houses and monasteries and other similar places. No-one is entirely sure why this tradition began, although there has – of course – been plenty of speculation, especially about the religious significance of strawberry jam.

Although, of course, like many of these traditions, such as Easter, Christmas, Halloween and so forth, the practice long pre-dates the introduction of Christianity in these islands, as was an existing tradition appropriated by the Christian religionists for their own ends, especially the age-old one involving strawberry jam and the virgins – which was ultimately banned by the Catholic Church in 1267.

However, in Europe from the middle-ages onward the use of strawberry jam in religious ceremonies was almost unheard of, except – of course – for that things the nuns did to one-another in the privacy of their cells which – allegedly -involved some very nasty habits indeed, much to the disgust of the church officials who - no matter how they tried – could not catch any of the nuns involved actually indulging in such acts. However, it was the use of the strawberry jam in such acts of sexual depravity that led to the phrase ‘caught red-handed.’

These acts, though, died out as civil, secular law slowly replaced religious law as the Middle-Ages gave way to the Renaissance and beyond.

Consequently, under the Code Napoleon, use of strawberry jam to cause distress to a government official going about his lawful business was made a crime punishable by the enforced public wearing of a beret by the convicted criminal. Such was the dread of been seen out in public wearing a beret that soon such unwarranted use of strawberry jam throughout most of Europe became rare and virtually unknown.

When the UK joined the Common Market, as it was known then, there was shock and horror expressed throughout the rest of the community when they discovered that the British still continued with what the rest of Europe regarded as a barbaric act, which the other countries insisted that the UK abandon.

However, Margaret Thatcher managed to negotiate an opt-out for the UK, when she in an infamous sound-bite, declared ‘The lady is for eating strawberry jam sandwiches, no matter who she is sitting next to!’

Unfortunately, recent EU treaty changes have now meant that the opt-out is no longer valid and therefore – if the UK wants to remain a member of the EU - it must end the practice of eating jam sandwiches in the close proximity to any local – and/or national government worker by 2015 at the latest or face legal action by the EU up to and including sanctions against British strawberries.

Ode to a Stickleback and Romanticism

Trackback Pseudopod is – probably – the least well-known of all the Romantic poets, even though to his contemporaries, his Ode to a Stickleback was one of the best known poems of the time, even outselling – for a time - Lord Byron’s epic ‘Ere Mate, I’ve Shagged Your Sister.

However, Pseudopod’s fame was short-lived. Even though he did have the essential wild-eyed sister that was de-rigour for a Romantic poet, Pseudopod had also spent nearly an hour in a Lake District thicket with Dorothy Wordsworth and shared a pipe or two with Coleridge; despite all this he felt he was never really accepted into the Romantic’s inner circle.

Scholars have often wondered why Pseudopod felt he was never really accepted by the rest of the Romantics. Some put it down to Pseudopod suggesting that Keats had more than an aesthetic interest in nightingales and kept a chicken in his rooms at Wentworth Place for ‘inspirational’ purposes.

Later, Pseudopod was also accused by Shelly of trying to get Mary ‘to have a feel of a real monster’ on that infamous night in the Villa Diodati in Geneva. Percy Shelley’s later claim that Mary based the monster on Pseudopod was believed to be what caused the rift between Pseudopod and the other Romantics and mainly responsible for Pseudopod kicking Robert Southey in the couplets when they met on Westminster Bridge early one morning.

Pseudopod’s masterpiece, Ode to a Stickleback, however, did go a long way towards re-establishing his credibility with the other Romantic poets, with Wordsworth admitting later that it was ‘better than a field full of daffodils’ and an early draft of the first stanza caused his sister Dorothy to write to Pseudopod, offering to meet him around the back of Tintern Abbey, where Pseudopod could prove to her that ‘it really is measureless to man’.

Pseudopod had managed to collect fifteen words for his poem by late 1810, but he did not have any idea what kind of order he wanted to put those words in, so he thought a trip to Venice would give him a chance to collect more words, perhaps even enough for one complete stanza. Pseudopod was far too optimistic though, his Italian trip, even though it lasted three months, ending in a wild altercation with a gang of gondoliers which resulted in Pseudopod fleeing the city, he returned home with only one additional definite article and a tentative conjunction for his poem.

For five more years Pseudopod wandered around the Lake district until he felt he had enough words for five or –possibly – six stanzas of his poem, but still he had trouble thinking up a rhyme for the word ‘punt’ that would convey the wistful romantic image of young lovers alone on the river as the young poet poled his lover along to see the finest stickleback she was ever to see.

Tragically, it was while Pseudopod himself was poling Dorothy Wordsworth in her punt that he lost his footing and fell into the river. Despite Dorothy’s heroic efforts to get Pseudopod out of his wet clothes and her frantic pulling of him onto the riverbank, Pseudopod caught pneumonia.

Pseudopod died a few weeks later with his masterwork unfinished. However, a tentative draft of his ode found amongst his papers by Coleridge when he was frantically searching for something to use to light his pipe on the day of Pseudopod’s funeral.

The remaining Romantic poets had a whip-round, which Dorothy Wordsworth said later was the best night of her life, and raised enough to have Pseudopod’s ode published posthumously, thus assuring his place in the literary cannon.

The Penguin Always Eats Omelettes

'Once or twice, or not depending on how heavy it is, but with my knees you'd be lucky to get much change out of a fiver, especially in the early flamingo season.' Soon, everyone will be familiar with the opening scene of The Penguin Always Eats Omelettes, predicted to become the biggest grossing film of all time, at least until something bigger comes along. The film is based on the best-selling Norwegian thriller of the same name. The Penguin Always Eats Omelettes is a violent, blood-soaked multiple murder mystery set in the violent and seedy underbelly of the Norwegian penguin-rental industry.

The film, as no-one in the worldwide film audience is interested in Norway, was reset to the far more glamorous location of exotic downtown Wolverhampton. Here the hero of the film, Larch Larchensonsonson – renamed Stud Dobbinwang for the film's mainly American audience - works in the UK's burgeoning fried breakfast industry as a former celebrity egg poacher down on his luck and working in a backstreet breakfast café.

After many script changes, the film now only seems to resemble the book in its title and the number of young women seemingly desperate to get out of their clothes for some of the most improbable reasons in some of the more unusual locations in cinema history. The film tells the tale of how Dobbinwang accidentally discovers, in the alley behind his kitchen, the brutally-murdered corpse of Wolverhampton's most notorious dealer in bootleg fried bread to the town's cafés.

When several witnesses come forward, all claiming they saw Dobbinwang standing over the body with his spatula in hand; the police immediately accuse him of the murder. Having no choice, but to go on the run to clear his name, Dobbinwang flees Wolverhampton with Trollope Honeythighs, the large-breasted waitress from his café, which starts off a desperate chase, leaving a trail of murder and mayhem that brings chaos to Wolverhampton and its ring road.

Of course, everyone in the city had heard rumours about the corruption in the breakfast provision industry and how the city’s bacon inspectors were demanding protection money from the cafes, in return for turning a blind eye to the egg poaching, but Dobbinwang had no idea just how high up the corruption had spread.

The question is, though, can Dobbinwang and Honeythighs escape the mob, the police and the local government trading standards officers long enough to clear Dobbinwang’s name and yet leave them enough time to have sex in as many of Wolverhampton’s exotic locations as possible before the final showdown between the forces of evil and the man who, as Honeythighs says, ‘seems to have the only honest spatula in town.’

Whatever you do, make sure you do not miss what will be the ‘must-see’ cinema event of the year: The Penguin Always Eats Omelettes!