Spatchcock ready for a grilling over chorister claims
Spatchcock: thinking about David's endz.
Hello again listeners, Ernest T Spatchcock servicing you once more, and it is a very uncomfortable one isn't it? As you may be aware, St Brenda's - an oasis of spiritual calm in this flesh-obsessed modern world of ours - has been dragged into the horrendous row which has embroiled the Catholic Church of late. I'm not talking about the Vatican's official acceptance last week that Pious VII's encyclical of 1812 - in which he stated that the world was an asymmetrical rhomboid - was wrong. No, I'm afraid I'm talking about our castrato chorister, David. It all started when I gave one of my regular morning homilies on Empire FM's Rude Thought For the Day.
I recalled the uplifting words of St Paul's Letter to the Philippians, which as regular listeners I know you're all very familiar with. Well, to cut to the end, word got round that I was just as familiar with David. In fact, talking of cutting to the end, that was very much the rude thought for the day which I was reflecting upon: the perfectly natural and non-sexy act of circumcision. But you know how the C of E faithful like to chunter on, and onwardly chunter they veritably did. By tea-time, I had performed an act of unspeakable depravity upon David's boyhood in the vestry after Evensong. By the next morning, I had paid him £10 not to report this to his mother and by the end of last week, I had colluded with my Bishop, The Unbelievably Reverend Duncan Teabags, to cover up the act for the next ten years. What a monster I have become, and it only takes a congregation of 19 to commit me to the eternal flames of justice!
Naturally I wanted to clear this unpleasant mess up, which is definitely not what I said to David, despite what a few wags were muttering under their breath during last Sunday's sermon. So I asked the delightful, uncommonly handsome boys at How Inappropriate if I might post an apology for the confusion on these illustrious pages. The mistake was actually that of an errant production trainee in the editing suite, who cut off my pre-recorded piece a little hastily. When listeners heard me declare that "I would like a nice piece of David", what they should have heard me say is "I would like a nice piece of David's mother, the deliciously skanky milf". As you can see, nothing could be simpler than the truth, which is why I felt the need to set the record straight.
That was the worst thing I've ever heard!
So I wanted to say that I am deeply sorry that I have been mistaken for a Catholic, who are obviously afforded the divine right to sodomise children and pay for their silence, and whose Pope is responsible for issuing an order that all child abuse claims had to be investigated in secret and remain confidential for at least a decade. Some more unforgiving critics have said that Benedict XVI bears a striking resemblance to a squashed Statler from The Muppets channelling Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, but as far as I'm concerned, he's just a loveable Nazi. Either way, horrific paedophilia may be the prerogative of Catholic priests everywhere, but I need to assure my parish that my pecadillos are strictly limited to BBWs, golden showers, DP, shaved Asians and cling-film bondage. And that's the slightly boring truth, listeners.
May you all have a blessed Feast of Bellends.
The Bisto Roast Part 1
Word up, cunts. Baxter "Bisto" Bistock here, and let's make it snappy. The economy, eh? What's that all about? Apparently, the official national debt is set to pass the trillion mark this month. Blimey! Why don't we just borrow another trillion and invest it in the space programme, so we can stick all that debt in a space rocket, and send it off to MARS, then we can all skip around the planet like HAPPY LITTLE TROLLS. No we can't fucking do that you complete moron, you know absolutely jack about the mother-rimming economy, and neither does anyone else - including, it seems, the 'economics' correspondent on my show, The Bisto Roast, Frank O'Filler. The clueless Irish cunt.
FOR THE LAST MINGE-SLAPPING TIME, FRANK, TELL ME WHAT QUANTITIVE EASING MEANS FOR THE CITY
Rude Thought for the Day
Unq. Rev'd Ernest T Spatchcock in da mo'fo house
Hi-de-ho Jesus people, and it really is the Good News from Empire FM this week as we announce the joyous return of Ernest T Spatchock from the Bahamas, where he has been ministering to his tender (and we do mean under-age) flock of wayward souls. Today the Vicar of St Brendas has a homely homily for all you filthy perverts on the very real subject of marriage. Apparently it's a good thing.
And now on Empire FM, Rude Thought For The Day, with the Unquestionably Reverend Ernest T Spatchock
Big Brother Is Watching You Undress
Baby move your butt, let me see that thong.
You may have seen reports recently about new security measures being implemented across various airports in the UK. Here at How Inappropriate we pride ourselves on bringing you the best advice possible to keep you and yours safe and so there now follows some guidance from HM Government.
Travelling by plane? In early 2010 you'll begin to notice some new security measures in place at airports around the UK. This is absolutely nothing to worry about, and is simply to address the Terrorist Threat Level which currently stands at Stewed Damson, or "Frenzied".
In and around the airport you might see more sniffer dogs in action, please try not to distract them as they go about their business, and please don't be alarmed if they thrust their expert noses into your groin.
There may also be a requirement to swab your luggage, clothing and possibly your groin. This is a new technology that allows us to quickly test for explosive residue. Or dried semen.
Our friendly airport security staff are always on hand to answer any questions you may have about procedures taking place, they may also require you to stand facing a wall, legs spread wide apart whilst they gently pat down your groin. If you could occasionally just glance over your shoulder and pout, that would be appreciated.
Carrying any liquids, sir?
Some major airports in the UK have now implemented full body scanners which enable security personnel to quickly ascertain what, if anything, you are packing beneath your clothes. You may wish to consider this before dressing for travel, and perhaps wear something to, you know, lift things, or let things swing loose. If staff need you to move in any particular way please help in any way you can, perhaps just give a little jiggle or bend over slightly, yeah, go on, like that, now move that leg, yeah, bit more, god yeah, I can totally see your -
With your co-operation we hope to make your visit to UK airport security a more pleasant, sensuous experience.
UK Government - Keeping You Horny
Holy Christmas – It’s Empire FM’s annual review of all our programming in 2009 type thing!
So you've eaten your fifteenth serving of turkey and there's absolutely nothing else to do than to curl up on the sofa and watch Victoria "Dead" Wood and listen to Auntie Sheila involuntarily break wind, eh? Wrong! Because as a special end-of-year treat (because we couldn't be arsed writing anything new) Empire FM is proud to bring you the highlights of all its traditional, i.e. racist, output over the last year. So sit back, actually come a bit closer to the screen, bit closer still ... STOP. Now grab your mouse and start clicking through to multiple pages of FUN!
News that's twice as nice: Empire FM!
Britain's Favourite Radio Station* kicked off the year with a brand new breakfast show that brought you all the news you didn't know you needed to know, just when you didn't have any time to listen to it! Presenters Patrick Creeper and Stephanie Slapwell soon enamoured themselves to their listeners with their unique blend of inane banter and clueless interviewing, whilst their intrepid reporter in the field, Martin Hammertime, asked the difficult questions no other station was prepared - or bothered - to ask. Thanks to Up and at 'em England!, we found out ten fail-safe remedies for swelling of the joints, and why Adamski is now yodelling for a living. But we still have no idea what we were doing in Iraq, so it was probably a good thing we left when we did.
In April Empire FM celebrated St George's day the only way we knew how - by devoting 24 hours of impartial programming championing the best of British, and explaining why all the rest are a bit backward to be honest. Plus we got to find out what a Komodo dragon looks like. May brought you important government advice about bringing you neighbour (who is essentially a fanatical terrorist minus the beard), to justice, and we found out that the UK was now on a burnt sienna terror alert. So we should all be thankful that we are even able to read this review of the year in one piece.
Gerry making merry, down on the farm.
That month we also heard the first outing of Escape from Goldenmeadows Homestead, where presenter Gerald Wuthering-Heights invited two city slickers to his farm in Cornwall, and forced them to duel with pigs and learn to make nettle soup. Luckily, plenty of Gerry's famous homebrew was imbibed and everyone had a great time, apart from Gerald who spent most of his time utterly depressed and desperate for a nice donner kebab and a bottle of Blossom Hill from his local Costcutter. Unfortunately, the end of that series saw Goldenmeadows burned to a cinder after a particularly drunken Bonfire Night special, and Gerry now spends his days singing for booze in a theme pub in Twatt.
Of course Empire FM's schedules would not be complete without live broadcasts of England's most vicious and least-known professional sport, Heathen-rules super-agnostic-league reticulated cross-sticks. We were hanging on the every word of legendary commentators Sid "Wife" Beater and Jonathon "Jonno" DeBouvedere as they brought us a thrilling Chaffinch Cup final between the Bandits and the Tits. Would the referee's common-in-law partner allow that Upper Lip Pansy in extra fisting time? Why was there an alsatian on the pitch? To be honest, we would never really find out.
I'm back, cunts!
In June Empire FM scored another exclusive by bringing the nation's finest night-time news ranter - Baxter "Bisto" Bistock - out of seven year retirement from a Home for the Unpredictably Volatile, and back onto the airwaves. Bisto lost no time in showing that he was still cheesed off with the big guns - and gunning for the big cheeses - and as he trained his sights on Gordon Brown, Tony Blair and Bob Ainsworth, then knocked back a Tequila Coconut Sunrise over their mutilated corpses. Oh, and he said "cunt" a lot.
We kicked off the Autumn season with a brand new slot Ask the Experts, courtesy of renowned makeover experts Jamie P Spoon and Daniel McSpaniel. What links Jimmy Choo, Karl Largerfeld, Victoria Beckham and rotten aubergines? You wouldn't know, you're just a useless fashion casualty with bad hair and saggy boobs: only experts have the answers.
Wifred Mimsy: extending a hand to the buttocks of loneliness.
Finally in the last two months of the year we brought you spiritual fulfilment in the form of Rude Thought For The Day, presented by The Unquestionably Reverend Ernest T Spatchcock and The Slightly Reverend Dr Wilfred Mimsy, who urged his aural congregation to consider the important moral conundrums of the modern world: can you pray in a utility room? Does God drink Um Bongo? And what would Jesus have made of Midget Gangbang 7?
So what's in store for you lucky lot in 2010? Well to start with, we are all aching to find out What Gerry Did Next. We've also got another thrilling instalment of Jonno and Sid's coverage of the four-day final of the Chaffinch Cup, and a brand new three-parter from our resident experts Jamie and Dan, called (not unreasonably) Being Irritated By Some Experts. But that's not all: we will also be showcasing a hard-hitting documentary about UK knife crime, featuring Celine Dion and Barry Manilow and entitled Sharp Knives in A Flat. Clever, and tasteful. That's all on 33.9 Empire FM, the radio station for bigots, fascists and Boris Johnson.
Happy Yuletide Seasonings from everyone at Empire!
*Right Wing Ranters and Ranters' Mates, readers' poll 2009.
Rude Thought For Christmas Day
Greetings God-botherers, and welcome to a festive edition of your favourite radio programme for smutty meditation: yes it's the Slightly Reverend Dr Wilfred Mimsy, on a subject close to his lips ... er, heart. That's right listeners, it's your Rude Thought For Christmas Day!