Brain boxes

The resident team of five ‘Eggheads’ are taking on today’s challengers, five ex-garage owners now drawing their pensions and with nothing much better to do with their afternoon.

“Welcome to the Re-tyreds!”  says the quiz host, Diemad Murderman.
“More like retards!” titters Egghead Judith behind her hand.  The rest of the Eggheads snigger down their noses.  Egghead Chris sniggers too hard and speckles the desktop with snot.

“Okay, you guys,” says Diemad, “we better get on with it.  Best of luck to our challengers, and remember – You’re playing for something money can’t buy – the Eggheads reputation!
Oh, and also the current roll over prize of £75,000.”

The Quiz gets under way and tension almost rises as the scores remain locked together, but by the end of half an hour of tedium, the team members are whittled down to Egghead Daphne and Retyred Malcom.

“Sudden death questions now,” yawns Diemad, “and no help from your eliminated colleagues who are locked in the question room.”
Two large TV screens behind the last two contestants show their teammates crammed into the sound proof isolation booths.  It looks like the Retyred’s room is also airtight, as they seem to be having trouble breathing.

“Eggheads question first.  Daphne, how many rivets are used to hold together the Eifel Tower?”
“That’s a tough one, Diemad, but I would say two thousand, five hundred,” says Daphne.

The audience at home hold their breath in anticipation.  The four in the airless Retyred booth just hold their breath.

“Well it’s actually one hundred times that but you’re close, so I’m going to give you it,” says Diemad Murderman.

“Now, Retyreds, it’s your turn.  Malcolm what’s the term for a juggler who continually drops his skittles?”
“Er, unemployable?”  Malcolm is obviously guessing.

“Unlucky Malcolm, that’s not the correct answer, I wonder if your team mates know,” smiles Diemad, turning to face the display screens.

“Sorry guys,” says Malcolm to the question booth. 
There’s no answer from his teammates who are in a heap on the floor, but then a hand reaches up and presses its palm onto the glass of the booth.  Written on the skin in felt pen are the words ‘Useless Tosser’.

“Can nobody beat these Eggheads?” laughs Diemad, reaching for his coat.

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Happy Snaps

A wearable digital camera may hold the key to helping people who have memory problems, experts believe.

Sensecam, produced by Microsoft, takes photos of daily events every 30 seconds so they can be played back later at high-speed to jog memory. Trials showed it helped people recall the event and emotions related to it.

Experts believe it could help people with general memory loss and more serious conditions such as Alzheimer’s disease, but they say it is early days.
Students from the University of Aberdeen and Dodge City University, Kansas are trialling the device already.

Dorothy Gale of Kansas reported; “After a recent ‘episode’ I came around to find myself on the floor, wearing red glass shoes and a gingham dress, there was a crushed witches hat next to me and a scruffy white dog with a name badge saying ‘Toto’.
Unfortunately the Sensecam software demanded a re-boot which caused it to have a Fatal Error and crash, so I have no idea how I got into that situation or what happened to me in the previous three days.”

Dave Incident, a student from Aberdeen, had a different story following a six-hour refreshment session in the downtown, student infested bars. 
“I woke with my pants down, bent over the bed and wearing red shoes and a gingham dress.  There was a traffic cone, a Sainsburys trolley and two half eaten kebabs in my room.

Unfortunately, the Sensecam didn’t crash and so I have a perfect record of how I got into that situation. 

Oh God, please don’t let my parents see those pictures!”

(Don’t worry, gentle reader, a full set of pictures was mailed to the snivelling student’s parents within minutes of his statement).


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A 24-year-old American man claims he found a condom in his Burger King Whopper.

Van Miguel Hartless alleges he bit into the burger and found the unwrapped contraceptive under a piece of lettuce.  “My third bite into the burger, it was just a foreign taste,” he said. “It was a very sour, bitter sort of taste. It almost had a numbing sensation.

But when I bit into the part with the condom in, it was immediately an improvement, more wholesome and satisfying.”

Master Chef at Burger King, Pierre Overall, stated, “This sort of accident is often the way that great recipes are invented.  We’d never thought of introducing condoms into our range but Mr. Hartless seems to have stumbled over a great new line for us.  Our  team is now investigating the ‘Super-Sub Rubber’,  the ‘French Letter Fries’, the ‘Packet of three Chicken Legs’ and our bargain bucket; ‘Something for the Weekend, Sir?’.

In an unrelated story Mr Wonderbuss from Arkansaw was pleased to announce that his wife had found a whopper in his condom.

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Four star menu

 Famous swearing chef Gordon Ramsay opened a £3million restaurant in New York called Gordon Ramsay at The London.  But critics were unimpressed and several put the boot in.   Ramsay, 40, is said to be fuming.New York Magazine’s critic Gael Green was the most outspoken.
She wrote: ‘The chef’s signature feint, a luscious smoky froth with white beans has us sighing, but almost everything else is a work-in-progress.

 “****ing ****,” said Ramsay.  “***** and *****, cod balls, ****ing  pot roast and ****oles!”

“We are shocked by a leathery lobster ravioli and an unseemly marriage of langoustine tails and maple-infused chicken (not to mention the bill),” continued Green.

She also hit out at the toilet doors which didn’t lock properly.

“****ing lobster, ****  ****** chicken!  Toilet ****ing door! How was I to ****ing know she was in there having a s**t!?” replied Ramsay, “****** toad in the **** and stuffed ****!”

Unfortunately, Mr Ramsay had to be carried away by four waiters at this point.  Ice packs were applied to his forehead and groin and a luscious smoky froth with white beans was massaged into his buttocks until he became calm again.

How we all love a happy ****ing ending

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The Dancing Delusion

In the latest series of ‘Look at me, I’m a C List Celebrity Dancing’,  there has been yet more controversy.  Richard Dawkins, Professor of Thinking from Oxford University, has been upsetting the regulars.

Following his attempt at a Quickstep, with professional partner Labia, Dawkins is grilled by the judges.

“Your Fishtail is too curved, your Running Right Turn is too loose around the floor and your dancing pants are too tight around the crotch!”  hisses Tiny Tonioli, tossing his head in disdain.
The crowd boo distractedly, not sure which side they are going to take yet.

“If you were anymore uptight we’d have to take the rod out of your arse to get your trousers on!” shouts Ron Godman.
The crowd laugh.  Yeah, Ron’s right, Dawkins does look a bit straight-laced.

Darling, the female judge, is under the desk struggling to open a bottle of gin with her teeth. 
Bruce Forsyth moves on quickly to the last judge, Craig Reveal Horrid.
“It was too short, it was too long and it was backwards and forwards.  I didn’t like it,” spouts Craig.  The crowd have a good boo at Craig, Dawkins and the furniture.

“May I say something, Bruce?” asks Dawkins quietly.
“Yes, of course my love, you have your little say.”

“I would just like to state that I am against dancing because it teaches us to be satisfied with not understanding the world.  To an honest judge, the alleged convergence between dancing and science is a shallow, empty, hollow, spin-doctored sham.”

The judges mouths fall open, they look at Dawkins, they look at the crowd, they look to the Lord of the Dance; Brucie.
“Alright, Richard, my love, but a lot of people find great comfort from dancing.  Not everybody’s life is good, and dancing brings them comfort.”

“There are all sorts of things that would be comforting,” replies Dawkins, “I expect an injection of morphine would be comforting—it might be more comforting, for all I know.  But to say that something is comforting is not to say that it’s true.”
The audience are deathly still now, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Dawkins continues in the same steady voice; “Most people, I believe, think that you need dancing to explain the existence of the world, and especially the existence of life.  They are wrong, but our education system is such that many people don’t know it.
I believe that an orderly universe, one indifferent to human preoccupations, in which everything has an explanation even if we still have a long way to go before we find it, is a more beautiful, more wonderful place than a universe tricked out with capricious ad hoc magic and belief in Ballroom Dancing.”

The camera pans over the faces of the judges and the audience.  Many people are sobbing, some hide their faces in their hands.  A horrible little man who doesn’t know his Cucarachas from his Ronde Chasse has rocked the foundations of their faith.

For the first time ever Brucie cracks. 
“Well you won’t be back next week, sweetheart!  The audience here and at home aren’t going to be voting for your brand of nonsense!”
The crowd go mad, cheering for the great Forsyth and booing Dawkins.

But amongst them and on some of the sofas at home, some punters are still sitting quietly, many of them have tears in their eyes but behind that mist a little light has come on.


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Pastafarian Intelligent Design

They are amongst us.

Those who believe that the world was created by ID (Italian Dish), not by the red teeth and claws of physics, nature and evolution.

All the evidence of science, that physical forces following the Big Bang formed the Universe and created the Earth, is rubbished by these worshippers. 

The idea that we evolved from the lower creatures to the giddy heights of the selfish, war mongering, adulterating, child abusing, earth destroying creatures we are today without the help of an intelligent God is an anathema to them.
The Pastafarians know that this world was created by the Flying Spaghetti Monster and they wear the clothes of his faith.  Pirate Outfits.

Bryan Killian, a Pastafarian from North Carolina, has been banned from school for repeatedly turning up in Pirate Uniform.  He and his fellow believers are trying to get American schools to teach all three creation theories – God, Big-Bang and Flying Spaghetti Monster.  They also believe that Pirates are devine beings and not in the “God, isn’t Johnny Depp just devine?” sense either.

How the other world religions such as Islam,  Sikhism, Buddhism and Harry Potterism are going to cope with yet another competitor we will have to wait and see.

If you want to try out a religion in which you can eat your God (other than Catholicism) go to the Pastafarian site here:

I highly recommend it as a starter, washed down with a cheeky Chianti, but it’s a bit hard to swallow as a main course.

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