tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60773822011-12-13T22:20:10.357ZRobber RabbitScaryduck's Brain Dump WeblogRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.comBlogger1671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-66400481439623620832010-11-03T20:37:00.003Z2010-11-03T20:42:07.137ZComing Soon: I Am Not MadA quick look at my forthcoming book "I Am Not Mad", in which I have managed to secure the services of none other than Kim Jong-Il himself for the foreword. Celebrity Forewords don't come much bigger than that.Celebrity Foreword - Kim Jong-IlGreetings, fellow workers! As Dear Leader of the towering Juche-inspired powerhouse that is the Democratic People's Republic of Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-10908255356314102822009-06-24T17:49:00.003+01:002009-06-24T18:00:26.240+01:00"Qu'est-ce que c'est cette 'ecoutez et repetez' bollocks?"Bonjour et welcome to M Le Canard Effrayant's explanation de la phrase "ecoutez et repetez".Any child qui has learned la langue Francais has almost certainment been exposee a la package qui s'appelle "Longman's Audio Visual French".Cette package de learning was utilisee en schools Anglais pour le teach of la langue Francais, and comprised Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-53827378559254434292009-06-03T20:57:00.005+01:002009-06-03T21:31:59.976+01:00BNP FACTSTen - no - Eleven rock-hard facts about our least favourite comedy racists (may contain untruths).They're the new driving force in British politics! They're the political party of choice of the nation's hordes of mouth-breathing imbeciles easily swayed by empty promises, pictures of Winston Churchill before he became a dog and a hatred of anything remotely foreign they can blame for Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-28349186886228375732009-01-21T21:41:00.001Z2009-01-22T10:24:54.089ZOn the Obama bandwagonAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-46726791662524312722008-11-03T20:52:00.002Z2008-11-03T20:53:08.812ZOld school blasphemingAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-32408310973771193112008-04-24T14:26:00.007+01:002008-11-03T20:51:41.464ZThe Scaryduckworth-Lewis Method of Rating Things for Excellence - 2008 listBehold! After much tinkering, this year's Scaryduckworth-Lewis Method of Rating Things for Excellent is upon us. No change in the top three, but there's very little you can do with that sort of manky perfection.0. A shaven-headed Britney Spears in a roll neck sweater1. Lightly-oiled Ann Noreen Widdecombe experimenting in Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-75716187175537555252008-03-06T10:37:00.002Z2008-03-06T10:42:27.147ZBad dog. BAD DOG!More of this crap HEREAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-78368296428002261422008-01-17T09:11:00.000Z2008-01-17T10:26:55.943Z"You can't get rid of porn"This story originally posted HERE.There are some unshakable truths in the world which just cannot be changed. You can’t vote, because the Government will get in. Policeman are younger than they used to be. And you just can’t get rid of pornography. Disposal of porn is like trying to get rid of chemical weapons or nuclear waste. No matter what you do with it, you’re Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-29429287656741523752007-11-13T09:42:00.000Z2008-12-09T19:11:51.010ZThe Duck in the news"Scary ducks". Heh.Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-71753864588164233112007-11-12T08:28:00.000Z2008-12-09T19:11:51.264ZCARNT SPELAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-64921381779983294082007-11-01T14:56:00.000Z2007-11-01T14:59:39.904ZOn testing out Blinkboxwww.blinkBox.comAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-79244200538798569852007-10-26T10:22:00.000+01:002007-10-26T10:23:45.866+01:00Best scam email, EVERFROM: MR. PETERSON OWEN CHAIRMAN; United Nations Funds Clearance Authority (UNFCA).ATTENTION BONAFIDE BENEFICIARY OF: APPROVED FUNDS.RE: REALISTIC SUCCESS ON THE RELEASE OF YOUR APPROVED FUND.This United Nations Funds Clearance Authority (UNFCA) hereby write to inform you that everything is officially SET towards ensuring the perfect remittance of your Approved Amount. Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-55521918609732305572007-09-25T09:03:00.000+01:002007-09-25T09:04:07.408+01:00DylanAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-23362686685608075122007-08-08T14:09:00.000+01:002007-08-08T14:10:53.753+01:00Wedding From Hell I remember that day well. It still comes back in nightmares. Big, vivid, full Technicolor nightmares with added blood, swearing and violence. It was ace. It was the occasion of the marriage of my old Uncle Pete (aged fifty) to Brenda the twenty year old local bike he'd got up the duff following a late-night knee-trembler in the office stock cupboard. Something that happens all Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-39050445617055589992007-07-26T20:53:00.000+01:002007-07-26T20:58:35.599+01:00Fifty things you couldn't care less about Scaryduck1. I was born in 1966, the same year England won the World Cup2. I was born in yuppie’s paradise, Parson’s Green, London, twenty years before the yuppies got there3. I lived in Hammersmith for the first five years of my life4. I lived in Vancouver for a year5. As a kid, I also spent time in Seattle (it was closed) and Belfast (it rained)6. I Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-38515764409349855982007-07-26T20:47:00.000+01:002008-12-09T19:11:51.391ZScaryduck: Know Your Enemy“Who the hell are you?”That’s very nice of you to ask. I’m a technical operator in my mid-thirties working for a rather large and well-respected broadcaster. Married. Two kids. Cat. I’m originally from London, half London, half Irish, half barking mad. Throw in a great-grandfather that was a Rabbi, and you’ve got three racial stereotypes for the price of one. I’ve Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-44841876313120131862007-07-25T13:38:00.000+01:002008-12-09T19:11:51.536ZLOLRabbitAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-66946329180812881692007-07-24T14:47:00.000+01:002007-07-24T14:48:33.506+01:00On barmy art teachersA shameless repostI went to one of those schools where they only ever employed the teachers that no other educational establishment would take. Each and every department had at least one teacher who would euphemistically be called a "character". In fact, many were barking mad and invariably ended up teaching art and design.Mr Law spent most of his lessons teaching anything Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-76137062178131192232007-06-24T15:36:00.000+01:002007-06-24T15:37:21.894+01:00Arabic Football FunnyMade me done a LOL.Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1176835490323098422007-04-17T19:42:00.000+01:002007-07-24T14:47:25.839+01:00The Scaryduckworth-Lewis Method of rating things for Excellence - 2007 updateSo, here it is: The 2007 update of the Scaryduckworth-Lewis Method of rating things for Excellence, THE foolproof and utterly essential method of rating things for excellence on the World Wide Web today.Remember: the value of baby oil can go down as well as up.0. A shaven-headed Britney Spears in a roll neck sweater1. Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1169744788236515192007-01-25T17:04:00.000Z2007-01-25T18:00:48.393Z“You just can’t get rid of porn” A shameless B3ta Question of the Week re-post.There are some unshakable truths in the world which just cannot be changed. You can’t vote, because the Government will get in. Policeman are younger than they used to be. And you just can’t get rid of pornography. Disposal of porn is like trying to get rid of chemical weapons or nuclear waste. No matter what you do Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1168176343852500542007-01-07T13:24:00.001Z2007-01-07T13:25:43.853ZNew Romantic Driving Test WoeA B3TA question of the week: Tell us how you have failed.My friend Cliff actually wrote off his car and a passing Audi during his driving test, and passed after a successful appeal. Encouraged by this turn of events, I arrived at the test centre expecting an easy ride.Fat chance. The examiner - a W H Smith - was on his first day back at work after a long lay-off Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1163617141344099202006-11-15T18:57:00.000Z2006-11-15T18:59:01.356ZSpockAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1162300816158631492006-10-31T13:19:00.000Z2006-10-31T13:20:27.906ZUseless AdviceFrom b3ta's Question of the Week"Always wear clean underwear, just in case you get run over"Yes mother, thank you for this invaluable bit of advice.When I was run over by the ageing boy racer who lived down the road from us, the first thing I did when pinned under his MOT-failure Triumph Herald, staring the Grim Reaper in the face, was to empty both my bladder and my bowels.So: Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1159299615048806682006-09-26T20:40:00.000+01:002006-09-26T20:40:15.066+01:00Cats and Dogs - living togetherTony Blair, it appears, has developed a "W" shaped mark on his forehead. The cruel amongst you speculate that the letters "anker" are sure to follow, but it is worse. Far, far worse.Revelations Chapter 1316 He causes all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on their right hand or on their foreheads,17 and that no one may buy or Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1158006887282312492006-09-12T00:31:00.000+01:002006-09-19T19:05:12.550+01:00Armageddon DaysI grew up in the shadow of The Bomb. My parents were married around the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1963, not knowing if there would be a world left to bring kids into. Those Roman Toga Party days at medical school must have seemed so long ago. We lived in fear of the four minute warning, and had a copy of Protect and Survive to guide us through the worst Reagan and Brezhnev had to Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1157726564723681832006-09-08T15:41:00.000+01:002006-09-08T15:42:57.196+01:00Crikey!An obituary piece for Steve Irwin, originally written for The Friday Thing."Why did it have to be Steve Irwin? Why couldn't it be someone older like Sean Connery?" - Daniel, 11, Sydney Morning Herald.'Food: Steve. Fucking. Irwin.' - Wikipedia 'Stingray' page, for about ten minutes.Yes, why couldn't it have been Sean Connery? Then, perhaps, we might have been saved Australia's Diana Moment Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1156332138891582112006-08-23T12:15:00.000+01:002006-08-23T12:28:06.196+01:00Robber Rabbit's Holiday AlbumFlight delays"Hic!""Gerrof!""Oh, hel-lo!""ZZZzzz...""I'm not really a welder you know"Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1154094792669834302006-07-28T14:52:00.000+01:002006-07-28T14:53:12.700+01:00WAWIBF… The UniverseA Friday Thing thingIt may surprise you to learn that the universe we inhabit is comprised of some eleven dimensions. Most of us operate in the standard up, down, sideways and time dimensions, and the dimension inhabited solely by Peaches Geldof. With the help of copious quantities of White Lightning, one can explore the mysterious part of the universe known as 'Pavement Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1152720338380744702006-07-12T17:04:00.000+01:002006-07-12T17:05:38.406+01:00The CBE Jeebies Written by S. Duck for The Friday ThingPoor Rolf Harris.A life-time spent painting the Queen, tying kangaroos down and breaking new ground with songs about little boys, and what does he get to show for it? A CBE and the thanks of a grateful nation, that's what.How gutted, then, must he be feeling to hear that the Met's Assistant Commissioner Andy Hayman received the same award, Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1151042684676599352006-06-23T07:03:00.000+01:002006-06-23T07:04:44.693+01:00WadAnother B3TA Question of the Week: What's the most money you've ever carried?I once took a stop-over in Lagos on the way back from somewhere dreadful in the Congo.Just to be on the safe side, I changed a couple of hundred in sterling to Nigerian Niara to pay for the hotel, driver, food, local taxes. In my frazzled state, I didn't know a few things:- Because there is so much forgery, the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1150136721503128742006-06-12T19:24:00.000+01:002006-06-12T19:25:21.506+01:00The Earl Grey Missile TestThe civil service! Career of choice for dopes and under-achievers, and at the age of twenty, I was both. Ideal that I should end up in a smart little side office on the tenth floor of a Ministry of Agriculture building in Reading. With town centre office space at a premium, and the Common Agricultural Policy running out of control, they had to jam us in any which way to Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1150136453436890672006-06-12T19:20:00.000+01:002006-06-12T19:20:53.473+01:00Diet ClubThe first rule of diet club. You do not eat all the pies. The second rule of diet club. You DO NOT eat all the pies.There was no denying it, Penny was a big woman, and a career sitting in a civil service office wasn't exactly helping her lose the pounds, particularly as our office was directly over a Tesco supermarket and the lure of the the daily cream cake run. To be honest, it was Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1150135611205005462006-06-12T19:06:00.000+01:002006-06-12T19:06:51.230+01:00Leaving DoAnother blatant repost, for those lovely people at Fark.comDave was a jockey. He came down from Liverpool with a talent for stealing the hubcaps off horses and got a job at one of the famous stables in Lambourne in the Berkshire Downs. However, it soon became apparent that this Stable Lad had one handicap - in the world of horse racing, small is beautiful, and this jockey wouldn’t stop Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1148460931916406162006-05-24T09:54:00.000+01:002006-05-24T09:58:00.346+01:00Star Trek: WrongINT: THE BRIDGE OF THE ENTERPRISE DThe turbo lift doors open. Geordi and Reg Barclay stride in, looking elated.Geordi: We've done it sir!Picard: Done what?Geordi: Solved the problem with the toilets, sir!Picard: How so?Geordi: Well, you know how it is with these jumpsuits. If you want to done a poo, you've got to strip naked. Especially since the Federation adopted the Sisko Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1145865902543763942006-04-24T09:03:00.001+01:002006-04-24T18:47:13.960+01:00The Duckworth-Lewis method, againAfter much discussion, we publish the April 2006 edition of the Scaryduckworth-Lewis method of rating things. We are, of course, always open to new suggestions.0. Abi Titmuss1. Ann Widdecombe giving you the eye2. Margaret Thatcher leather whip “happy finish” massage3. Clare Short on page three of the Sun4. Vanessa Feltz in a negligee, selling a flash of her Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1145739594778534732006-04-22T21:59:00.000+01:002006-04-22T21:59:54.803+01:00Highbury MemoriesAn article for The Gooner fanzine - the first I've written for them for years - about a football match I went to nearly two decades ago. On the cutting edge of current events, as usual. Arsenal 3-1 Everton - League Cup - 24th February 1988Team: Lukic, Winterburn, Sansom, Thomas, O'Leary (Davis), Adams, Rocastle, Hayes, Smith, Groves, Richardson Three quid to stand on the North Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1142156041578048152006-03-12T09:32:00.000Z2006-03-12T09:34:01.610ZSchool Fight ClubAnother shameless repost for those lovely B3TA peopleOur little school in the suburbs of London was nothing special. We had our fair share of triumphs and tragedies. We had people of a certain genius who would go on to great things; and we had our fair share of stupids. Like Geoff, for example, the fastest runner the school had ever produced who would go on to represent his Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1141122892112422082006-02-28T10:34:00.000Z2006-02-28T10:34:52.123ZEastEnders, the returnPosting this again, because I lost the original version. I've re-written this for added mankiness. It is now: utterly filthly.ALBERT SQUARE EXT DAY."And now on BBC1, the last ever episode of EastEnders. Viewers are warned that tonight's programme contains scenes of an excessively manky nature."A LARGE LORRY PULLS INTO THE SQUARE, THE CAMERA FOLLOWS IT AS IT PARKS OUTSIDE THEAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1140610164271860452006-02-22T12:08:00.000Z2006-02-22T12:09:24.286ZGun ClubA shameless re-publishing of an old Tale of Mirth and Woe for b3ta QOTW purposes.When you’re sixteen, you have expenses. You’re sick of your mother buying clothes, and you can’t wait ten months for your birthday to get that record you like. You need money. You need a job. Desperate for cash, I got a job in a supermarket. Friday evenings and all day Saturday filling shelves and roaming theAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1138891296564211702006-02-02T14:41:00.000Z2006-02-02T14:41:36.573ZThe Cult of GiveusyourmoneyAnother b3ta Question of the WeekA good friend of mine became a dreadful hippy one summer after spending good money sitting round in a barn on some course run by a bunch of chancing bread-heads "getting my head together, man."Being a bunch of chancing bread-heads ourselves, we decided to do the same thing, and put some adverts in all the Glastonbury- and Avebury-based 'Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1135699167620078642005-12-27T15:57:00.000Z2005-12-27T20:13:56.810ZPanic BuyingYet another cut-and-paste job from B3ta's question of the Week. Which panic-bought Christmas presents have you been party too? My shame runs deep.Excuse: brokeI bought my mum a hairnet from Boots one Christmas Eve, just like Ena Sharples - the Victoria Beckham of her time - used to wear. It was the cheapest thing they had that didn't come in a pack of three. The receipt of this Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1135098175278056212005-12-21T00:02:00.000Z2005-12-21T15:24:50.786ZThe Diary of RSM Albert O'Balsam, DSC and BarOne would wish, at this stage, move to crush these scurrilous rumours surrounding my good self and the mysterious disappearance of "Fluffy", our beloved regimental goat.While it is true that the luscious, pouting Miss Fluffy did accompany me on my trek to save the souls of the many, many sixteen-to-seventeen year old Swedish nymphettes to be found in Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1134133205369575962005-12-09T12:58:00.000Z2005-12-09T13:00:05.383ZBirthdayAnother b3ta Question of the Week tale that I've already told elsewhere in the Archives of Scaryduckdom, that deserves retellingUnlucky for some...My thirteenth birthday. We went to see Diamonds are Forever at the cinema. My older sister was so impressed by the way James Bond despatched the gay assassins in the final reel, she tried out the same "hands-yanked-under-the-crotch" move on me.Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1133254389354697952005-11-29T08:52:00.000Z2005-11-29T08:53:09.370ZAs seen on Al JazeeraLast night to That There London in my capacity as cardboard-and-string flavoured boy journalist, where I was to cover a press event on the subject of a leaked British Government memo, in which the President of the United States reveals plans to attack a civilian television station on the sovereign territory of a friendly government. Present at The Frontline Club were Wadah Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1130417116618115692005-11-04T00:44:00.000Z2005-11-04T06:32:46.240ZCakeA shamless Scaryduck reprint I never wanted to do home economics. The trouble was, the metalwork class was far too small and it was bursting at the seams with kids wanting to make ashtrays for their bedrooms and getting wrapped around the lathes. On the other hand, the home economics was virtually empty, with Miss Orton teaching to a small knot of girls made to do the cookery class by their Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1131019287612941442005-11-03T11:59:00.000Z2005-11-03T12:01:27.626ZBottle of FireA shameless cut-and-paste for b3ta readersThe Summer of ‘76 was a scorcher. It didn’t rain for months, and water was rationed as reservoirs ran dry. Instead of a beautiful lush green, England was brown, withered and fit to burst into flames. Which is probably a very bad thing if you’re a ten-year-old pyromaniac.I just couldn’t help it. I had a thing for fire. My parents didn’t help Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1130835422628974702005-11-01T08:56:00.000Z2005-11-01T10:54:33.596ZThe Duckworth-Lewis method explained, part the secondThank you for your support, I shall wear it always. Also: thank you for your suggestions for the complete listing of the patented Duckworth-Lewis generic rating system for everything in the whole world. The full list (subject to change on a whim) is as follows:0. Abi Titmuss1. Ann Widdecombe giving you the eye2. Margaret Thatcher leather whip “Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1128352816519765802005-10-04T00:19:00.000+01:002005-10-04T08:41:20.216+01:00WalesA Scaryduck re-print for the massesWhen you’re a student, only one thing matters in life. Drink. Lots of it, and prefarably as cheap as possible. So it was a throwaway remark by Clive that started it all off.“Do you know how cheap beer is in Wales?” We didn’t. He told us. We decided to go to Wales on holiday.The whole affair was planned like a military operation. We were to take the train toAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1127761775544396212005-09-26T20:08:00.000+01:002005-09-27T08:49:22.590+01:00The sickest thing I’ve ever written…is, of course, a version of the infamous Aristocrats gag. I’m so ashamed* at the foul sewer of filth that spewed from my mind in the writing of this masterwork, and I am certain a special room in Hell awaits me. And the punchline is, perhaps, the worst thing ever. I didn’t even bother with the standard pre-amble, or even the majority of the sicko ad-lib in the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1126772661944027202005-09-16T00:21:00.000+01:002005-09-16T07:12:22.656+01:00BadmintonThis story (not my work, thank God), appeared in Wednesday’s Fiver newsletter from The Guardian, and is, quite possibly, the funniest thing I have ever, ever read. Clearly trumping any mirth and woe that I can come up with, I feel terribly inadequate."My mate Mark used to play badminton at a local sports centre many years ago and it happened that a pair of twenty-something couples would Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1126682867570354212005-09-14T08:23:00.000+01:002005-09-15T13:29:23.790+01:00Celebrity MurderThe explanation: A rather disturbing, out-of-control thread on a certain discussion forum on the best way to whittle down the B-List. I thought I'd at least make it topical, and finish of the Chav Wedding of the Year in some style:Katie Price, former adult movie star, model, singer and now world's most famous celebrity housewife slumped back onto the huge, heart-shaped bed after Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1124980189623270412005-08-25T15:28:00.000+01:002005-08-25T15:29:49.630+01:00Meme maniaI didn't want to do this. Misty made me.SEVEN THINGS I...Plan to do before I die:1. Get my book published2. Get my other book published3. Visit New Zealand4. Get my own penguin and call him Mr Flippers5. Build my own house 6. Write a sitcom7. Outlive all you other buggersCan do:1. Write2. Memorise complex train timetables3. Take a decent photograph4. Shoot the ‘nads off a fly at 300 Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1124817935931126052005-08-23T18:25:00.000+01:002005-08-23T18:25:35.936+01:00The Tourists' Guide to LondonVisiting London? This is all the information you'll need. Honest.* ‘Bobbies’ - the British Police - now prefer to be called ‘Titheads’, and have a secret signal that involves raising the middle finger of your left hand at them * Why not visit the quaint village of Dagenham ? * At Windsor Castle there is a fifty pound spot prize for the first person to sit in the QueenRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1123181406993619062005-08-11T00:48:00.000+01:002005-08-11T07:11:12.626+01:00Lucky BagThe "Having-it-done-for-real" Remix.The year was 1997. Mrs Duck and I sat down and earnestly decided that we had had enough Scaryducklings for one lifetime, and that, for various practical reasons, I should go and have The Snip. I would present myself at the hospital and allow a perfect stranger to cut a hole in my ballbag and do strange, unnatural things with my plums until they didn’t Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1120636132818430332005-07-06T08:47:00.000+01:002005-07-06T09:56:46.826+01:00Au revoir! Au revoir!Another entry for the Guardian's kill-off-Dumbledore competition. I just can't leave it alone, can I?It took Albus Dumbledore several minutes to realise where he was. One minute, he was in his rooms at Hogwarts, experimenting with a new combination of manticore dung and arcane ephemera, the next… the next… robes replaced with an apron, receding hairline, fatter than usual.SheAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1120562157021978012005-07-05T12:15:00.000+01:002005-07-05T12:15:57.026+01:00Dumble-deadSave JK Rowling the bother, says The Guardian, and kill off Dumbledore. So I did:Stephen Fry meets Terry Pratchett, with eye-peeling results:The trouble with being a wizard, Albus Dumbledore realized, was that you knew the exact time, date and circumstances of one’s death in advance. It wasn’t so much the time and date that he had the problem with – after all, he had had what cricket Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1118820629814693482005-06-15T08:30:00.000+01:002005-06-15T08:30:29.816+01:00Charity woeFrom the b3ta Question of the Week – what useless items have you bought whilst drunk?Have you ever noticed how the totals on the likes of Children in Need and Comic Relief suddenly go stratospheric after 11pm? That's because of drunk people. Drunk people like you and me, who arrive home from the pub on Friday night, switch on the TV and say "Jeeezzz... it's Children in Need, an' I've Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1116919492812405682005-05-24T08:24:00.000+01:002005-05-24T08:24:52.816+01:00Foot-me-don'tMy tale of football injury woe, re-written for The Guardian’s Fiver newsletter:Like David Beckham, I can lay claim to breaking a metatarsal in my foot whilst playing the Beautiful Game. Though I doubt Degsy's broken foot woe was the result of his attempts to buy a second hand Austin Allegro he'd seen in Thames Valley Auto Trader.Desperate for wheels to impress a young lady (and boy, Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1113921969972986502005-04-19T15:44:00.000+01:002005-04-19T15:48:38.466+01:00Nightmare in NewquayA re-written version of an old Scary Story I've submitted for The Idler's forthcoming Crap Holidays book:My parents always seemed to go camping in Cornwall when I was a teenager, and dragged along with family and dog, we were forced to make the most of the tourist traps we had visited many, many times before. With Newquay just up the road (a late, late contender for a crap Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1110369827675071022005-03-09T12:01:00.000Z2005-03-09T12:03:47.676ZHa!The hunter hunted, or the nutters nutted - Christian Voice and Mediawatch UK spoof sites hit the web. This blog entry brought to you by way of a googlebomb.Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1109257517394415842005-02-24T15:04:00.000Z2005-02-24T15:06:32.246ZBare arse woeAnother b3ta Question of the Week - "What is your claim to fame?"On the way back from a football match in the West Midlands one Sunday evening several years ago, we all took turns to moon out of the car window as we crawled down the M1 towards London.The victim of our moonage was none other than TV's Keith Chegwin who spent the best part of two hours stuck in a traffic jam staring atRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1108109140732019382005-02-11T08:01:00.000Z2005-02-11T08:05:40.733ZThe Blacksmith's SongJust so you know what the bloody hell I'm on about in The Other Place:The blacksmith told me before he diedAnd I've no reason to believe he liedThat no matter how hard he tried and triedHis wife was never satisfiedSo he built a bloody big wheelAnd harnessed it to a prick of steelTwo balls of brass were filled with creamAnd the whole bloody issue was driven by steamRound and Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1108146926644992072005-02-10T18:34:00.000Z2005-02-18T19:52:06.390ZFilthy DaveFilthy Dave was the sick kid in our class at school. You could only describe Filthy Dave one way: filthy. Filthy of mind and filthy of body. His school jumper was full of holes, and his ears dripped with enough wax to keep the Catholic Church in candles until the Second Coming. And his mind - we prided ourselves on being a pretty cosmopolitan, depraved bunch, but Filthy Dave was a Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1107766521927128852005-02-07T08:45:00.000Z2005-02-07T08:55:21.926ZPope's health takes turn for worse
Senior Vatican officials are dismayed at the deterioration in the health of Pope John Paul II over recent days. After his steady recovery from an infection that saw the Pontiff confined to a hospital in Rome, bishops have been puzzled by the Holy Father's recent diagnosis of Tourette's Syndrome.
In his unexpected blessing to the waiting masses on Sunday, His Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1106056931702277692005-01-18T13:58:00.000Z2005-01-18T14:03:30.833ZEnders
I am acquainted with a gentleman who once wrote an episode of EastEnders. One thing led to another, and I ended up tossing off this little number in an attempt to cash in on one of the programme's longest-running anomalies: Why does nobody wash their own clothes?
"And now on BBC1, the last ever episode of EastEnders. Viewers are warned that tonight's programme contains scenes of an Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1105094222922313562005-01-07T10:35:00.000Z2005-01-07T10:37:02.923ZBlarney woe
My "Blarney" Scary Story savagely edited for b3ta readers:
On a trip to Ireland we ran into a coachload of American tourists at Blarney Castle.
"I hope you're not going to try kissing the Blarney Stone," we ventured.
It was, it turned out, going to be the highlight of their tour back to the "Old Country".
"They never wash it you know. Cold sores. Herpes. AIDS. The works."
"Oh myRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1102539689718034442004-12-08T20:55:00.000Z2004-12-08T21:02:24.263ZSuddenly - HATS!
Excerpt from chapter three of the Scaryduck-penned manuscript "WTF?!"
Toby Young gets paid stupid sums of money supervising a design team on the fledgling Scaryduck Dot Com website, owned by the frightening Margaret Hilda Roberts (no relation). Life is peachy...
We have an official office sport.
It is called "Hats", and involves headwear and the ability to avoid going to theRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1101199741886343302004-11-23T08:47:00.000Z2004-11-23T08:49:01.886ZOn Democracy
Americans! Still coming to terms with rich white men in suits using cutting edge touch-screen technology to steal your election? Sick to death of the fact that there is no audit trail for many of the votes that got Chimpy back in the White House? Dismayed that the Nationalist Socialist White Peoples' Party managed to get more votes in some districts than there are registered voters?Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1100681116141588492004-11-17T08:43:00.000Z2004-11-17T08:47:54.946ZThe Diary of RSM Albert O'Balsam, DSC and Bar
Having just emerged from up some mountain where he claims to have been fighting some unnamed foe, this last bastion of the British Empire, Regimental Sergeant Major to Her Majesty's 13th Goat Brigade Albert O'Balsam DSC and Bar, is now able to reveal his unique experiences of great savagery, his conversion to an obscure branch of Christianity, the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1100037037168343802004-11-09T21:50:00.000Z2004-11-09T21:50:37.166ZOn Anti-Semitism - A Scaryduck murder mystery
Heard it again. Middle-aged woman on the train, silver hair, silver crucifix.
"Hate Jews."
"Why's that then?"
"Killed Jesus."
Christ on a bike - talk about holding a grudge. Now, your author is at least 12% Jewish (or to you, eleven), and can trace at least one Cockney Rabbi in his ancestry (it's like Steve Harley's Cockney Rebel, except on Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1097162337189235302004-10-07T16:15:00.000+01:002004-10-07T19:19:57.526+01:00Bond's Last Mission
Thanks to the wonders of ebay, we have uncovered this unpublished manuscript which disappeared from the estate of author Ian Fleming shortly after his death in 1964, showing his most famous creation, secret agent James Bond 007, in a completely new light which is certain to shock his millions of fans around the world.
The short story, entitled “The World Never Dies Twice DrAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1095146405195774682004-09-14T08:19:00.000+01:002004-09-14T08:20:05.196+01:00Letters to the Editor
Sir -
Once again our so-called government has introduced new fines simply as a means of taxing the innocent motorist off the road. I cannot drive the 50 yards to the post office in my Daf Variomatic without coming home to another speeding fine, no doubt going straight into the pockets of single mothers and lesbian Romanian gypsies coming to this country to abuse our Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1094542083147874502004-09-07T08:27:00.000+01:002004-09-07T08:28:03.146+01:00Oh Lordy! It's the return of "Hobbies of the rich and Famous"
TV's Carol Smillie talks about the new pastime that's sweeping the nation - Hot Bagging!
"Hellooo! My name's Carol Smillie, and nothing makes me smile more than taking a dump in a Waitrose carrier bag and leaving it in a shop doorway. For a working mum with a busy lifestyle, who's got time to go to the toilet these days?"
Q: So, howAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1094110642498448122004-09-02T08:35:00.000+01:002004-09-02T08:37:22.496+01:00Mr Wanker
An extract from the rather fantastic Scaryduck novel "Colin and the Dog"
It was, apart from that business in the lingerie department of Marks and Spencers, the worst ten minutes of Colin’s twenty-one years on Earth. He bit his cheeks, he pinched his thighs until they bruised, he thought about football. Anything, to keep his mind from concentrating on The Name. Arnold Wanker. The poor Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1093602882808087532004-08-27T11:33:00.000+01:002004-08-27T11:34:42.806+01:00How to get the Sack in 20 Days
by Gonzo
Day 1: Use clear tape on the bottom of all the mouses, so they don't work. If they are those snazzy light ones, use a small postage sticker
Day 2: Swap all the keys around, on all the keyboards
Day 3: Swap the mouse/keyboards around, where they are plugged in
Day 4: take screenshots of everyone's desktop, then set the pic as wallpaper, and hide all the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1092950519219282412004-08-20T00:09:00.000+01:002004-08-20T06:53:10.896+01:00Result
Dear Mr Rabbit,
I'll meet you at the baby oil warehouse at 8pm. I'll bring La Beeny, don't forget the weasels.
Forever yours,
K.
I'm not sure. This could be a trap.Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1092856055024817302004-08-19T00:05:00.000+01:002004-08-20T06:53:55.856+01:00Fan mail
Dear Miss Allsopp
I am your number one fan, and enjoy your work in "Location Location Location", "Relocation Relocation Relocation" and "Fornication Fornication Fornication".
Can I, if it's not too much trouble, have a signed photo of you to place in my specially-built shrine; and perhaps a lock of your hair so that I may clone dozens of Kirsties who can satisfy my every whim. And ifAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1092662277700647612004-08-16T14:16:00.000+01:002004-08-16T14:17:57.700+01:00Football Predictions 2004/5
Yeah, yeah, this will be everywhere by now, but short on both laughs and content, it's going in.
Fergie starts his psychological games early, claiming the title is now Chelsea’s to lose. In mid August.
Norwich will be top by the end of August. A grinning Ray Stubbs will ask the Norwich MD, “What are you putting in the pies Delia?”
Norwich will be rooted to the Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1092071871086048102004-08-09T18:11:00.000+01:002004-08-09T18:17:51.086+01:00Slapper
That Kirstie Allsopp came up to me in the street the other day. All furtive like, make-up smeared across her face like it was applied by a bricklayer, Aquascutum twin-set dragged through a hedge backwards. A nervous glance to check we weren't being watched and she let me have it.
"House, Sir?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Lookin' for business love? Semi-detatched? Nice maisonette? Very Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1091620953450321992004-08-04T13:01:00.000+01:002004-08-04T17:50:09.806+01:00Dang
We heart Vork.Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1089043357066647812004-07-05T17:01:00.000+01:002004-07-05T17:03:54.690+01:00Letter to South West Trains
My mother told me that sarcasm will get me nowhere. Au contraire, it makes me feel loads better.
Dear Sirs,
Cancellation of 0948 Weymouth-Waterloo 5th July
As a regular passenger on SW Trains, I tend to shrug off delays and cancellations as one of the hazards of public transport. However, the unprecedented premier league muppetry surrounding the cancellation of Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1088671617469295062004-07-01T09:44:00.000+01:002004-07-01T09:47:08.416+01:00Dream Job
Football Commentators, BBC Radio Sport.
I'd be so biased.
"Van Nistelrooy - you're a cheating horse-faced twat. Get off the pitch!"
"News coming in of a goal for the visitors at White Hart Lane. Good."
"And another home defeat for a listless Chelsea. MWA HA HA HAAAAAAARGH!!!"
The job is as good as mine. Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1087458675730012342004-06-17T08:50:00.000+01:002004-06-17T13:33:04.716+01:00Diary of a Superhero
Monday
Up with the lark and ready to save the world again. See that Superman's been putting himself about again, the glory-seeking bastard. Helped Mrs Brzezicki get her cat out of a tree, and hung around the mall will Hyperboy until the security guards made us leave. I'll give those fascists "Rag Week". The Batphone hasn't rung for two weeks now. Bored. Let Alfred wear the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1087131991482151262004-06-13T14:04:00.000+01:002004-06-13T14:06:31.483+01:00The fucking moon
In honour of Fraser's 500th comment on his Neil Armstrong thread, I give you the following 100% true fact:
The first thing Neil Armstrong did when he took his giant step for mankind was to stand on - and break - the piss bottle in his spacesuit.
So, imagine if you will, the greatest achievement in world history taking place Armstrong tramping around the moon with a bootful of Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1086679331629974902004-06-08T08:22:00.000+01:002004-06-08T08:22:11.630+01:00Mythical Beings and other Stories
A conversation
I went upstairs to the room in my head and spoke to God.
I asked him: "Is ambition sinful? Is it wrong to believe in a living God, yet still desire riches, fame and beautiful, wanton companionship?"
And He replied: "You people are always trying to trip me up with questions like this. You must believe in Me, or this conversation wouldn't be Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1086085321919968792004-06-01T11:20:00.000+01:002004-06-01T11:22:12.446+01:00McFee
An entry for the Giltsharp Swiss Army Knife writing competition.
McFee sat on the dirt floor of his cell, his clothes in tatters, blackened with blood and sweat. He had been beaten - not too roughly - and searched - not too well. Outside it was dark yet humid, the last of the sun's rays struggling through the window high up on the far wall as day gave way to night. He chewed the last Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1085996264672108142004-05-31T10:37:00.000+01:002004-05-31T10:37:44.673+01:00A problem shared is a problem openly ridiculed
Dear Dr Scary
Last Night I dreamed I was in a medievel joust armed only with a Twix bar and Sarah Beeny's lead-lined brassiere and false teeth. What does this mean? Should I confess my weasel-greasing fetish to my business associates?
Yours,
Confused of South Kensington.
Dear Kirstie,
My adivce in cases such as this is normally "You really Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1085036855718076542004-05-20T08:00:00.000+01:002004-05-20T08:08:59.166+01:00Oh Lordy
Dear Mr Rabbit,
I represent the law firm Sue, Grabbit and Runne, and am writing at the direction of our client Miss Kirstie Allsopp in response to a number of groundless allegations made against her person in an article entitled "Hobbies of the Rich and Famous."
1. Miss Allsopp does not, and never will whilst it remains illegal, indulge in the craven act of greasing her - or any otherRobber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1084921999951319602004-05-19T00:12:00.000+01:002004-05-19T00:13:19.953+01:00Well, duh...
---------------------------------------- cut out and keep --------------------------------------
---------------------------------------- cut out and keep --------------------------------------Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1084263884503400672004-05-11T09:17:00.000+01:002004-05-11T09:24:44.503+01:00Hobbies of the Poor and Infamous
Unfortunately, this week's interviewee won't be released from prison until the end of the week (and the Prison Service, compassionate as ever, will be giving her a hundred metre head-start from the baying hate mob that will undoubtedly pursue her). This means our exclusive article on the Maxine Carr Diet will have to be held over for a while. If the wonky-mouthedAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1083656057242542962004-05-04T08:34:00.000+01:002004-05-04T08:38:17.920+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
This week, TV's luscious, pouting celebrity estate agent Kirstie Allsopp answers your questions on society's last taboo - the foul act of greasing your weasel.
"Hi there! You may recognise me as the sensible no-nonsense co-host of Channel Four's "Location Location Location" and ...umm... "Relocation Relocation Relocation". If you need an incredibly over-dressed, Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1083225832980355812004-04-29T09:03:00.000+01:002004-04-29T09:08:09.826+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
No.6: Taking a clandestine dump in shoe shops : Time-traveller Tom Baker answers your questions.
Greetings, humans! It is I, The Doctor, otherwise known by my earthly moniker Tom Baker. Many people ask me what I'm up to these days now that my career gallavanting around the cosmos is over. The answer to this, my friend, is simple - myself and my electronic Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1082719339469343942004-04-23T12:22:00.000+01:002004-04-23T12:26:28.013+01:00The Sketch that Little Britain didn't want. Punks.
SCENE: RUBBISH TRANSVESTITE EMILY HOWARD'S DRAWING ROOM, INTERIOR, DAY. IT IS DECORATED PRETTY MUCH AS YOU'D EXPECT, ALL PINK FRILLS AND BOWS. ENTER EMILY, "SHE" IS STILL CARRYING "HER" DAINTY UMBRELLA INDOORS. SHE SITS IN A COMPLETELY OVERDONE CHAIR NEXT TO A TWEE TELEPHONE TABLE. THE TELEPHONE IS ONE OF THOSE OLDE WORLDE ONES YOU GET AT ARGOS.Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-108253110089604722004-04-21T08:05:00.000+01:002004-04-21T08:09:06.686+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
No.5: Sticking your todger in a warm cup of tea: Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams answers your questions
Bless you, my children. People are always asking me: "Archbishop, is it sinful to stick your todger in a warm cup of tea?", and I'd like to take some time to address this valid concern that blights ordinary citizens' everyday lives. Let me say straight Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1082287593153800932004-04-18T12:26:00.000+01:002004-04-18T12:30:34.780+01:00Knickers Knackers Knockers!
But what, I hear you ask, is this Dirty Bomb all about then? Let me tell you.
Originally designed by British scientist Dr Benny Hill, the Dirty Bomb comprises a small amount of explosives surrounded by an enormous quanity of used women’s lingerie, smutty seaside postcards and vintage photographs of young ladies in bikinis.
On detonation, entire city blocks are Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1081586538310713972004-04-14T00:04:00.000+01:002004-04-14T08:53:03.640+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
No.4: Whopping your norks out in public: Former Blue Peter presenter Janet Ellis answers your questions.
Hello there! As a former Blue Peter presenter and celebrity mother, people are always asking me "Janet, how do you find time in your busy schedule to whop your norks out in public?" It's simple. Whopping them out in public takes up rather less time that you Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1081501872205805582004-04-09T10:11:00.000+01:002004-04-09T10:15:01.546+01:00Holiday from Hell
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"That's the last time I believe the brochure"
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Robber Rabbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00454564741671686974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1081234919783037502004-04-06T08:01:00.000+01:002004-04-06T08:05:45.013+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
No.3: Profanity in public: Royal totty Camilla Parker-Bowles answers your questions.
Greetings, loyal subjects! I will never forget the first time I was formally introduced to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. It was on the polo lawn at Windsor Great Park, and Princess Margaret, the Duke of Kent and the French Ambassador were all in attendance as the Alistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6077382.post-1080719724812445452004-03-31T08:55:00.000+01:002004-03-31T08:59:01.076+01:00Hobbies of the rich and famous
No.2: Wanking into hats: Secret Agent James Bond answers your questions.
Greetings to red hot hat action fans everywhere! My name is Bond, James Bond - secret agent, international playboy and holder of the coveted double-o prefix, here to answer any questions you may have on the much-maligned pastime of wanking into hats. But did you know that status as 007 is notAlistair Colemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380404154114925293noreply@blogger.com0