Sunday, April 30, 2006 

Wanted: new England manager

A vacancy has arisen for the position of manager of the English national football team. The ideal candidate should fit the description below:

Mustn't drink;

Mustn't smoke;

Mustn't take drugs, or indulge in any vice known to man;

No criminal record;

Can't have had a single affair in his entire life (Ideally, should never have had sex at all);

Must be patient, and possess the necessary communication skills to get his message across to people with the intelligence of David Beckham;

Mustn't have any children or family who can be threatened;

Must be prepared to forgive and forget any media intrusion into his private life, no matter how outrageously unreasonable;

Must have a minimum of three years' experience in persecution, suffering, torture and death;

Must be able to come back from even the most devastating defeats;

And finally, must be able to perform the mother of all miracles and turn England into a World Cup winning team.

Oh hang on, we might just have found the perfect candidate:



(Needless to add, no previous football experience necessary)

Sunday, April 23, 2006 

The Empire Strikes Back



Luke! Come and join me for a shitty lager!






NEVER!!

Saturday, April 22, 2006 

Who says blogs aren't influential?


Click to enlarge

 

Wanted for crimes against literature


The police are looking for a man
Who wrote some verse that didn't scan

Suspected of committing crimes
Like coming up with awful rhymes.

"If you have info leading to
His capture, call 2122.

Do not approach him on your own
Just call us on the telephone.

Thanks for your attention," said
The Chief Inspector, Captain Fred.

Friday, April 21, 2006 

Cherie's Hair


(sung to the tune of Penny Lane, by The Liverpool Benders)

Cherie's Hair,
There is a barber showing photographs
Of every cheque
he's had the pleasure to receive,
For sums of cash you just would not believe.
He's from Tel Aviv.

And Mrs Blair:
She's now the subject of controversy
She's all the papers
Can be bothered to discuss
But would they bother making such a fuss
About the rest of us?
(They don't give a toss...)

[OK, chorus coming up here, folks... now sing along, you boys and girls]

CHERIE'S HAIR
IS RIGHT UP THERE
WITH PRINCESS DI...
THE LATEST
APPLE OF
THE MEDIA'S EYE

Oh my, and
mean-
while
back

At Number Ten,
The old PM just gave a conference.
He unveiled
His party's plans for its third term:
"We're going to base them all on Cherie's perm."
He was very firm.

[sound of rhythmic thumping of desks]

But the rest
Of the backbenchers had a heart attack:
"We forked out less
Campaigning in Drybeck and Hoff...
Than we spent upon your wife's new coif:
Can't she just piss off?"

But Tony scoffed:

"CHERIE'S HAIR
IS ALL I CARE
ABOUT RIGHT NOW
- ASSIGN
ANOTHER BILLION
TO IT, BROWN!

Or else I
won't
step
down..."

[And now, one octave higher]

CHERIE'S HAIR!
IT'S ALWAYS THERE,
AND ALWAYS BLAND!
EVEN
WHEN IT'S DONE
FOR SEVEN GRAND...

It still is
out
of
hand.

[Interlude: This is the part with all the fancy trumpets and stuff....]

CHERIE'S HAIR
IS RIGHT UP THERE
WITH PRINCESS DI...

CHERIE'S HAIR
IS ALL WE CARE
ABOUT RIGHT NOW...

CHERIE'S HAIR
IT'S ALWAYS THERE
AND ALWAYS BLAND...

It cost seven grand.

Thursday, April 20, 2006 

"Tufty" called up for England


It's konfirmed! Tufty (above), the grey squirrel which invaded the pitch during yesterday's Champions League semifinal between Arsenal and Villa Real, has been called up to play for England by Sven Goran Eriksson.

Contacted by the Skip, Sven explained: "It's not often that you see such flair, fur and natural talent on an English pitch these days."

Above all, Tufty impressed the England coach with his stamina, determination and team spirit: qualities which are manifestly lacking in the current England squad.

"While other players moan about referee decisions, and get embroiled in tabloid sex scandals, Tufty got down to what matters most: doing his own thing on the pitch. I think the rest of my players have a lot to learn from the bushy-tailed newcomer," Sven added.

In fact, Tufty made his presence felt immediately upon the field. Coming on at the 11th minute, he captured the stadium's undivided attention with a spectacular run into Villa Real's penalty area, effortlessly sidestepping a number of tackles by the visibly stunned defence, until his performance was rudely interrupted by yet another questionable referee decision to suspend the match.

Later he emerged a second time to tremendous applause from the appreciative home crowd, once again dazzling Highbury with a series of devastating incursions deep into the Real midfield.

"With Roonie's cheek, Tufty's tail and Beckham's hair-do, there'll be no stopping England at this year's World Cup," Sven konfidently konkluded.

However, the F.A. (Furry Association) has expressed doubts about Tufty's eligibility to play for the English national team.

"We're not doubting Tufty's abilities as a football player," klaimed an FA spokesperson, "but the fact of the matter is that he is a grey squirrel, and therefore by definition American. Besides, as you are probably aware there's a war going on between British and American squirrels, and we are concerned that selecting Tufty may create unnecessary tensions with England's Red Squirrel fan-base."

Meanwhile, rumours of an affair between Sven and Tufty's girlfriend, super-squirrel model Ulrika Staller (otherwise known as "Nocciolina", below) have been dismissed out of hand by the England coach.

The kase kontinues...


Wednesday, April 19, 2006 

Home of the Shitty Lager (TM)



"In a faraway galaxy, long, long ago,
An Evil Empire once started to grow.

It aimed to spread terror, disturbance and fear,
And above all, to market its own shitty beer.

So pubs the world over would sell the same crap:
In bottles, in cans, and also on tap..."

Excerpt from The Tibetan Book of Shitty Lager, by Dow Nin Wan (the original Zulu Warrior)


Make no mistake, from those humble origins, Shitty Lager Incorporated (TM) is now a major global international conspiracy aimed at conquering all the world's beer markets without exception.

If successful, it may not only run many decent home breweries out of business, but it may even pose a serious threat the Universal Declaration of Alcoholics' Rights (1947), which plainly states that "All lager-louts and beer-drinkers the world over have a God-given right to a reasonable selection of beers, served chilled in a clean glass, and with an appropriate portion of salted peanuts on the side."

But as we speak, independent breweries are slowly but surely being bought out by Shitty Lagers Incorporated, so that very soon, from L.A to Wellington NZ, all that will be available in pubs and bars would be a watery, urine-like yellowy liquid, topped with tooth-paste textured froth, attempting to pass itself off as real beer.

However, connoisseurs of shitty lager will immediately recognise it for what it is: Pissner, an ammonia-based substance virtually indistinguishable from the form it takes as it leaves the human body some 15 seconds after consumption.

So far, Shitty Lager Incorporated has already added the following renowned beers to its international shitty portfolio:

1. Bud-Sheisser
2. Oranjepoop
3. Cruzcagado
4. Heinyken (probably the piss lager in the world)
5. Arseberg (they only said 'probably')
6. Kronenturd
7. Ass Pale Ale
8. Stool Artois (Belgian Wipe Lager)
and, of course,
9. Cisk Lager in The Can.

Here at the Skip we will regularly publish updates as more and more decent beers fall victim to this plague on the global alcoholism industry.

Until then, Good Night, Good Luck and Vive la Resistance!



 

Houston, we have a problem

The weirdest thing just happened to me.

I spent ages working on an update, only to find that Explorer would automatically quit each time I tried to view the page after publishing the new post.

It kept giving the same error message over and over again. And for some funny reason, it was in Latin.

Anyhow, in the end the only way I could gain access to my own blog was to delete the post altogether and start again.

Now, I am not a superstitious man, but you tell me. Could it possibly have anything to do with the fact that I pointed out a certain resemblance between the following two pics??









(Note - the original caption was: "Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the Vatican, Pope Benedict's head spins 360 degrees and discharges a jet of green puke. Where the hell is Max Von Sydow when you need him?")

Monday, April 17, 2006 

No beards please, we're British

"Is it a beard? Is it a plane..?"



Ever since anti-terror legislation formally outlawed facial hair in the UK, I have been accosted by an increasing number of total strangers in bars and pubs, most of whom are curious to know whether the hair on my face is real, or just a stag party costume accessory which also came with a horned helmet and shield.

Most often this happens immediately after one's beard mysteriously makes contact with the rich, creamy froth of one's pint of Rev. James, creating an impression of archaic wisdom, impaired co-ordination, quixotic stoogery and geriatric complacence, all magnificently rolled into one.

On these occasions, I am often asked positively ludicrous questions, such as: how long have you had your beard? (To which the answer, of course, is "7mm".) How long did it take for all the bald patches to converge? (They don't always: if you look closely, you will see still a single, distinct, hairless oasis of skin in the middle of both my cheeks.) And... doesn't it itch after a while? (Well, of course it does. Why else do you think I have to keep dipping it in beer all the time?)

Besides: to no avail do I inform my quintessentially hairless interrogators that beards are nothing but a perfectly natural consequence of failure to ever shave one's face. And that they, too, could have facial hair like mine, if they just threw away their razors and shaving foam, grew a pair of testicles, and switched from shitty lager to a real man's drink... like proper ale, or dark rum and engine oil.

But no, they reply. British people are genetically incapable of growing beards. And even if they could, they would automatically be considered Moslems by the rest of the community, and therefore never invited to join the Sunday school choir again.

To which all I can say is: too beard...

Wednesday, April 12, 2006 

IL MIO AMICO ARNOLD

"Sono stato eletto?! Ma che cazzo stai dicendo, Prodi...?!?!!"





Update: So let me see if I've got this right: With 19,000 votes, Arnold managed to get elected to parliament in a country of 58 million people. But with 24,000 votes in a country of just 390,000, he failed to get elected to the European Parliament. Am I missing something here?

Monday, April 10, 2006 

Blood in the treetops

Sectarian violence, or full blown squirrel war? Saved From The Skip looks at the Red Squirrel insurgency against Grey Squirrel occupation, currently raging in a forest near you

How many squirrels must die before a nation acknowledges it is in a squirrel war? For years now, the British government has been hammering the message that the squirrel situation is under control. But ever since over 70 grey squirrels were killed in a bloody attack on a Northumberland drey in February, people have started questioning the true nature of the conflict.

Last week, the UK Minister for Complete Nuts, Jack Straw, admitted that there is a "high level of slaughter" among squirrels of different ethnic backgrounds. However, he rejected claims that the situation has descended into total squirrel war.

"We are talking serious sectarian squirrel violence, certainly," he told the BBC, "But I firmly believe the situation will be brought under control when we have a National Nutty Government representing all the different squirrel factions."

But not everyone is convinced. "The Red Squirrel is currently facing extinction as a result of the Greys' pre-emptive strike policy," claimed a spokes-rodent for the War is Nuts Coalition, which is calling for a total withdrawal of all Grey Squirrel troops.

Better Red than Dead
Tensions between the two species have long been festering in the quiet woodlands of the United Kingdom. The Red Squirrel (sciurus cool brittanicus) originally migrated to the UK during the last Ice Age: (i.e., before the strict rodent immigration policies introduced by Margaret Thatcher in the early 1980s.) In many respects, it is an embodiment of what Donald Rumsfeld would describe as 'Old Europe': timid, peaceful, rarely seen and never heard, with a tendency to mind its own business and to stubbornly refuse to interfere in other creatures' conflicts.
Occasionally, this behaviour has earned the Red Squirrel international criticism (such as, when it failed to take any action to prevent a suspected field-vole massacre right on its doorstep). But the bushy-tailed tree-dweller is generally respected as a force for peace and stability in the countryside.

The Grey Squirrel (sciurus yanqi doodle-dus), on the other hand, is originally from the United States, and unlike its British cousin tends to adopt a shoot first, ask questions later attitude. Bolder by far than their European counterparts, Grey Squirrels are often known to ransack garbage in people's back yards. Occasionally, they will organise sorties into urban areas in search of loot and plunder. (Once, a renegade unit of under the command of Kernel Kurtz succeeded in commandeering a British army tank, and even tried to invade London. But that, my droogs, is another story...)

"We came, we saw, we conkered"
The Grey Squirrel originally invaded the UK in the late 19th century. As was widely expected, the military operation was swiftly and successful, with the Red Squirrel Guard capitulating in less than a month. However, few predicted that this would be the start of a 100-year occupation, characterised by violent sectarian clashes and regular terrorist treetop attacks. (And those few were in any case widely regarded as "communists", "anarchists", "terrorist sympathisers", or - worse still - "liberal intellectuals", and were consequently rounded up and shipped off to a secret extra-territorial prison somewhere in the Caribbean.)

Officially, the reason for the invasion was "national security". The Red Squirrels were at the time rumoured to be developing their own nutty technology for peaceful purposes. However, the Greys always suspected that the facilities were actually a cover-up for a secret weapons programme which would enable the Reds to build their own Acorn Bomb... something which went against every proviso of the Nutty Proliferation Treaty (which explicitly stated that only the Grey Squirrels and their Allies were allowed to have and use Nutty Weapons).

Naturally, the fact that Britain also possessed the third largest reserves of oak in the world had nothing to do it whatsoever. And if the Interim Coalition Rulers awarded all the forest management and re-plantation contracts to Grey Squirrel companies, well, that was just a coincidence.

Meanwhile, because of mounting security problems, the presence of Grey Squirrel forces in the country have been steadily increasing until they are now past the 2.5 million mark. The Red Squirrel population, on the other hand, has dwindled to less than 160,000, causing scientists to fear that the original nutty inhabitant of the British isles may be extinct in 20 years' time.


Now Have Your Say:
Which squirrel should stay?
And which, on the other hand, should just go away?
(Answers on a postcard, etc, etc...)


Above picture: www.greysquirrel.net

 

Don't mention ze Winter Olympics

Oh, and I almost forgot... actually, I did forget... to announce the results of Saved From The Skip's last ultra-scientific poll, which revealed that a clear majority of Skip readers would prefer to cull German Olympic Gold Medallists than cute and cuddly badgers (curiously enough, by almost exactly the same margin that would have preferred Gary Glitter to Emperor Ming as leader of the Lib Dems. Interesing, n'est-ce pas?)

Complete breakdown of results:

Question: Who should they really be culling instead of badgers?
Celebrity Big Brother participants: 9% (200,000 votes)
Rugby players: 0% (0 votes)
Surviving Beatles members: 0% (0 votes)
Boy bands: 22% (500,000 votes)
Film critics: 0% (0 votes)
Bible bashers 13% (300,000 votes)
German Olympic Gold Medallists 57% (1,300,000 votes)


 

How to tell if your President is completely nuts

British foreign minister Jack Straw (left) has described the idea that the President of the United States may be planning a nuclear strike on Iran as "completely nuts".

Well, Jack Straw is 100 per cent correct.

The idea IS completely nuts.

But then, so is the President of the United States. So go figure...

Anyhow, in case you had any doubts about the nuttiness of your own President, here are a few tell-tale signs to look out for (compiled from the best-selling authoritative reference book, Nut Screws Washers And Bolts: How To Tell If The Leader Of Your Country Is A Couple Of Screws Short Of A Porno, by Professor Loupe E. De Loupe - order your own copy NOW!)

1) NUCLEAR NUTS. If your President decides that the best way to prevent another country from using nuclear weapons is to use his own nuclear weapons first, then the chances are he is completely nuts.

2) DEMOCRATIC NUTS. If your President claims that he wants to "democratise the Middle East", but then cuts off all diplomatic ties with a Middle Eastern nation the moment it freely and democratically elects a government he doesn't like, then he's probably completely nuts.

3) CHEMICAL NUTS. If your President tries to justify the invasion of a country on the grounds that its leader had used banned chemical weapons, and it later transpires that his own forces also used banned chemical weapons in the invasion of that country, he just might be completely nuts.

4) CRONYISM NUTS. If your President tries to appoint his own former attorney to the Supreme Court, and then claims he can't understand why everyone's making such a fuss about it, then there's a remote possibility that he might be completely nuts.

and finally,

5) PLAIN OLD "NUTS" NUTS. If your President admits during a televised interview that he talks to a life-size portrait of his mother every day, when his mother is alive, well and perfectly contactable by telephone, then you can rest assured that the President in question is completely nuts.

For further enquiries, try here.
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