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
Up and at ‘em England! Parte Trois
[Ed: Get up to speed with the previous episodes of Empire FM's breakfast show here.]
Welcome back to another slice of Up and at 'em England! where Patrick Creeper and Stephanie Slapwell are tackling the big issues of the day (lottery winners, some stuff about the economy, Cillit Bang) until Martin Hammertime turns up with another cutting-edge report and bangs on for ages about life as a sick goat in a Sudanese shanty town. Way to bum everyone out at brekkie Mart!
So, what's the beef Martin?
What’s cool?
As we all know, the question on the lips of every meedja executive up and down the county, from slick advertising suits to the greatest minds in public relations, is: "What's cool?" If they can only figure that out, the kids will be permanently shelling out for their crap! Well, you will be relieved to know that our very own PR company, Flange PR, have successfully cloud-bursted their way to a sticky brand awareness climax. And all it took was a couple of double-demi skinny cinammon lattecinos.
Presley Rimming need something fresh for the kids!
Jonno and Sid – Sid Beater explains the rules of the Ugly Game
Sid Beater (left) cracks open another tinny as he explains some of the 1, 375 H.R.S.A.L.R.C.S.A. rules
Here at How Inappropriate we pride ourselves on a light, non-greasy formula that works on contact for all-day relief. Unfortunately, we appear to have adopted Vagisil's mission statement, and according to a recent survey undertaken for our website by Flange PR, the formula's not even working. For instance, a whopping 94% of you don't even understand the simple rules involved in the ancient conflict sport of Heathen-rules Super-agnostic-league Reticulated Cross-sticks! Well, we immediately got on the blower to 18-times Chaffinch Cup winner and long-standing Empire FM commentator Sid 'Wife' Beater, and asked him, much like Vagisil, to start clearing things up. So let the vaginal healing begin!
“Hello, Sid here, and I understand some of you may not be as familiar as I am with Jonno's wife with what is often referred to as 'the Ugly Game'. That's possibly because it's played over several months, in particularly hostile terrains, often for 24-hour periods at a time. Critics also say it's more confusing than the more commercially viable, and less fatality-rich sports covered on Empire FM. Well, I say they can keep their Badger-faced Welsh Mountain Sheep-throwing tournaments, Moldovian Close-harmony Curling cups and Professional Ice-Wrestling competitions. Next we'll be broadcasting the bastardised Christian-rules version of the game, and then I tell you, we might as well all start listening to modern jazz and drinking Cillit Bang. I'm not wrong.
So, what's it all about? How often have I heard some sweet little piece of skirt say that to me when I'm down the boozer, three beheadings in, watching Slipknot CSC launch a sacrificial walrus at the Barrymore Dilettantes? 'What', she will say to me, all tits and teeth, 'is the off-side rule all about?' 'Listen love', I'll respond kindly, 'It's quite simple. If the catcher tries to slip a greased spatchcock between the Queen's cheeks, when there are no other players between the Queen and the supporting poles, and a fetching dog is let onto the pitch whilst the game is in open slayings, then the catcher is off-side.' 'Oh!' says the thick sheila, 'I thought the Alsation was off-side.' 'What?!' I cry, aghast. 'The Alsation is off-side? It's a bloody dog for fuck's sake!' And I give her a little squeeze on her pert little tush to make my point.
Lars Jenbalooba is going to sculpt you a new head from the remains of your genetalia. Oooh, yeah!
If you ask me and Jonno - and many of the fans do - money's ruined this game. It used to be all about pride, honour and horrific dismemberments. Now they've shortened the maximum length of the game to four months, and ordinary players have had to make way for 'galacticos', like Lars Jenbalooba. That great galah was sold to the Tits last season for five thousand pounds, and now he swans around like he's cock of the yard, and takes a dive simply because he gets his legs chopped off at the kneecaps. Back in my day, we had to carry on until the 35th round, feet or no feet, armed only with gritty determination and our trusty double-barrelled shotguns. It's a crying shame that they had to form the H.R.S.A.L.R.C.S.A. to professionalise the sport, because since then all those flaming rule-writers have done is make a virtue out of bureaucracy, and it seems, staying alive.
So, that's the principles of this noble death-sport covered, but what about the practice? Let's see how much you have learned as we play: You're the ref’s common-in-law partner.
Scenario: It's the 20th round and the game is about to go into receivership if no players are able to get their sticks into the no-man's zone. You blow your thistle-whistle to indicate free fisting time, when without warning a royal stabber charges, delivering an upper-lip pansy to the opposing catcher even though he's already heading for the bench. What do you do?
Correct answer: The H.R.S.A.L.R.C.S.A. rule-book states that you must administer a spanking to the stabber before sending him off, and then indicate your displeasure to the offending team by doing the Paraguayan Bum-shuffle. If the stabber fails to respond appropriately by rubbing his nipples in shame, his team-mates must choose to have either 10, 000 points docked, or their manager disembowelled with a rusty spike.”