Music fans! Looking to bang, I mean, romance that special someone with a selection of sweet, sticky love songs? Check out this month’s sexy Hit Parade!

(Unfortunately, Tiggy doesn’t possess a turntable or any musical knowledge, so all reviews are entirely fictional).

Oh! I think I just came.

2. By Request Only – Ken

Oh Ken, be my ginger Valentine!

Ladies, one at a time! Immaculately groomed Ken will set female hearts a-fluttering with this hot collection of sultry love songs, just in time for Valentine’s Day!

I’m going to sleep with this record under my pillow and dream about Ken’s silky voice churning out hits including:

* Lovely Lady Lover Love

* My Hair, Your Place

* Senior Home Romeo

* I Love Your Lady Love

* My Love, Your Face

* Stop Calling Me (Angelina Jolie)

I dream of running my fingers through his thick gingery hair and feeling the prickle of his tangerine ‘tashe on my…

Next time on Hit Parade – The chutney one I was supposed to do this month. Lol.


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Cheese is Grate!

1. Cheese was invented by the ancient Egyptians hundreds of years ago. But it wasn’t for eating! They used the melted gloop to block the orifices of mummified pharaohs so their insides didn’t seep out.

2. Gouda and Edam has holes in it. But how did the holes get there? Simple – little grubs on strings. Once the wiggly critters have chomped the required amount of holes, the cheese maker simply tugs the string to remove them. What a fun job those little guys have!

3. The World Record for eating cheese is held by Bagwan Amijaad, a doctor from Mumbai. He managed to consume a staggering six Baby-Bels in one minute – without vomiting! Well done Bagwan!

An ancient Roman, yesterday.4. The Romans brought cheese to the Empire after Mark Anthony visited Egypt and claimed he had “consumed the finest delicacy, a gift from Hera, discovered right up an old king’s bunghole.”

5. If cheese was a country, it would have to move to Jupiter as it would be too big to fit on Earth. Although it would sink as Jupiter is made from gas. Ok, half of it would fit on Venus, the other half could go to Mars and the rest of it… Hang on. Assuming cheese is the same density as H20 and the total circumference of Mars is…
Look, there’s a lot of fucking cheese around, all right?

6. What is cheese made of? That’s easy. Milk, curds, whey, cream, cheese and sometimes pieces of goat (called goats’ cheese, obviously).

7. Cheese is so highly prized in Italy, it is illegal to dump it, throw it or fornicate with it. The last cheese-related hanging was of the notorious ‘Fondue Fuck Party Four’ in Milan in 1937. The criminals were hung, drawn, cubed and served with a delicious gorgonzola melt.

A typical cheesemaker, yesterday.8. Cheese has influenced popular music! The Beatles’ Yesterday was originally called Curds and Whey and was a charming ballard about the cheese making process. Then Paul McCartney spoiled it by turning it into romantic drivel.
From Public Enemy’s hard-hitting Wendsleydale Ghetto Riotz to Guns ‘N’ Roses’ sensational Hot Hard Cheddar Love, cheese has rocked the music world!

9. Some things called cheese aren’t really cheese! A Big Cheese means an important boss, cheesed off means a bit annoyed, and knob cheese isn’t really cheese at all! Unless you’re an ancient Egyptian.

10. Monterey Jack got its name from American cheese maker Arnold Pomeroy. He developed his beloved creamy-but-salty cheese using a ‘special ingredient’. Unfortunately the secret went to his grave as Arnold was hung in Milan in 1924 for undisclosed cheese-related crimes.


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As you know, nothing makes me angry. “Where are the rants, screaming and violent rage?” you often complain. I’m not capable of hateful thoughts, so my new guest poster, Lunenburg County Bugler’s star columnist Eddie McMayonnaise has volunteered to share his thoughts on things that make him want to smash things. Over to you, Eddie.

Eddie is cross!“Oooh, I’m So ANGRY!” About Television!

I love television! It’s a great way to avoid talking to Mrs McMayo, who is quite the most tedious company. But do you know what makes an even worse sound than Mrs McMayo – that’s right, the television!

Why do computers on TV shows like CSI: Las Vegas make lots of noise? Does your computer bleep and twitter every time you press a key? Mine just goes ‘ping!’ and crashes. Why is Gil Grissom’s computer better than mine? How come it takes five seconds for his computer to descramble a blurred CCTV image of a suspect, match his face to his fingerprints, detail his entire criminal record and alert a SWAT team to the dumpster he’s hiding in? In five seconds my computer is still wondering if it feels like opening Firefox. Bah!

TV - isn't not very realistic, is it??Why do sounds sound different on TV? Not just computers, but fights. When a burly cop inexplicably downs all weapons and punches the bad guy, we hear this really impressive “Phhhhhwwwattt” as the baddie’s teeth disappear down his throat. When I punch someone, I just hear the gentle click of my fingers dislocating. Bugger!

How come on TV when two people are having sex, they don’t shout out stupid things as they climax, or giggle nervously and make squelching noises like everyone else? How come no-one ever falls out of bed, comes too soon or shouts “Gross! Suck it yourself, you perverted freak!” like everyone else?

And afterwards they just get out of bed, slip on their clothes and go for a coffee. They don’t clumsily search for Kleenex or fumble about with sloppy condoms. Why aren’t they sticky?

Ohhhh, the TV makes me angry now! I’m off to kick a charity worker. Toodeloo!


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Groundhog Day! What could possibly go wrong?

“Welcome all to Rivertown’s annual Groundhog Day!” beamed the Master of Ceremonies, tipping his top hat to the shivering crowd. “Mister Mayor, please bring forth the star of the show – Rivertown Ricky!”

The Mayor stumbled onto the rickety stage, clutching the groundhog in a tight grip. “If this little bastard pees or bites I’m dropping him,” the Mayor snarled through a gritted smile.

The Master doffed his hat to the little creature, and unfurled a paper scroll. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! And the nice lady from Channel 5 News!” He paused and smiled at the television camera hovering below the stage. “Behold Rivertown Ricky’s annual weather prediction!”

The crowd cheered. Rivertown Ricky sneezed. The Mayor shuffled in discomfort.

“Well, let’s see. Hmmm.” The Master paused and frowned at the paper.

“God’s sake, get on with it, Paul!” hissed the Mayor.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it seems little Ricky is playing games with us this year. His message reads:

Forget the winter chill and cold,
There is a story to be told
When blood and fire will embrace
The greedy wanton human race
Your heart will beat and roar and clatter
Your head shall shatter with a splatter
And then the Earth will return once more
To all the creatures that came before.

p.s. It’s going to be very hot… where you are all going.

Signed, Rivertown Ricky.”

The crowd muttered in disbelief. The Mayor glared across the stage at Bob, the committee’s scribe. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like some prankster has been tampering with our friend’s prediction. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about! Just a bit of fun…” reassured the Master, as he hastily bundled the Mayor and Rivertown Ricky off the stage.

Bloody pranksters, muttered the Mayor. Bloody rat.

* * * * * *

A glum Rivertown Groundhog Day committee assembled in the Mayor’s office.

“What a balls-up!” cried the Mayor as he picked groundhog hairs from his jacket. “A poem about blood and exploding heads, and in front of all those kiddies! What the hell were you thinking, Bob?”

“I didn’t write that!” protested Bob. “I put my poem in Ricky’s cage this morning. The scroll must have been switched. Sandra was looking after him all morning…”

“Don’t blame me!” shouted Sandra. “I only left him for a few moments while I went to top up his water. How could you think it was me?”

The bickering was interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. “Mister Mayor, The river’s turned red!” shouted an excited voice down the line.

* * * * * *

A deep red torrent gushed before the Mayor as he stood on the riverbank. He bent down and poked his hand into the water. A sticky crimson film clung to his fingers. Must be paint or something. Polluting little bastards.

A gaggle of TV crews had assembled at the water’s edge. A microphone was shoved in the Mayor’s face.

“Mister Mayor, is this sabotage? Or do you think there are sinister undertones to your groundhog’s predictions?” “Nothing to worry about,” began the Mayor. “The police are onto the pranksters I’m sure…” his voice trailed off and his eyes began to sparkle. “But, obviously there is the possibility that Rivertown Ricky is trying to tell us something…”

The mayor stared into the camera. “This is quite a mystery. A newsworthy event for our little town. I’m sure this story will be attracting a lot of attention from the world’s media…”

* * * * * *

The Mayor assembled the committee in his office. His mood was somewhat lighter than before.

“Rivertown is all over the television! Even CNN! Knocked those other mangy groundhogs right off the news. Although let me be clear, whoever poured that red crap into the river is going to be severely punished. But in the meantime, let’s try and keep this little prank going, eh?”

“The press wants to see the groundhog, Mister Mayor,” remarked the Master. “But Sandra said he’s a bit frightened of the camera lights, so maybe we should let him rest for now.”

“Goodness no! Get that hairy little bastard in front of the cameras! Give it a carrot, or whatever it eats, and give the press what they want. No time to waste!”

The phone on the Mayor’s desk rang. The Master picked it up.

“Mayor’s office. Yes…what? How could it? That’s impossible…” the Master stared at the committee members in frozen silence. “That was the Chief down at the fire station. He says the whole of Woodside Park is ablaze. He says it’s like a bush fire, homes gone and everything. But it’s minus four outside! How can it…?”

The Mayor shook his head. Bloody pranksters were taking it too far now.

“Holy God, we’ve got a town crawling with press now. Evacuate the town. And when I find out which little bastards have done this…” he flopped down on his seat and shut his eyes.

“Oh, I’m getting indigestion now. Bloody hell. Call the chief back… Call…Goodness, I feel dizzy…”

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

“Mister Mayor! Oh my God! Oh MY GOD, Oh MY GOD! Jesus Christ! For the love of GOD someone get an ambulance! Jesus fuc…”

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

Groundhogs don’t know much about the weather. But they can smell Armageddon a mile away.

Happy Groundhog day!

Game over, humans.

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!


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