Red Nose Day In Dalston – Nudity, Bloodletting And Aggravated Larceny For All The Family!

As local schools and businesses celebrate Red Nose Day and the BBC prepares for its annual Comic Relief charity marathon, residents of Dalston’s Clement Attlee Estate are warming up for their own traditional fundraiser tonight.

‘Yeah,’ said Dalston’s Red Nose supremo Vince ‘Biggles’ Calhoun this morning, ‘people in this estate would do anything to help the kiddies. Even foreign ones that live in mud huts and that. We’re not picky.’

Planned events include a sponsored pole dancing marathon in the snug of the White Horse public house, a Roy ‘Chubby’ Brown video marathon in the bar of the White Horse public house and a winner-stays-on bare knuckle boxing marathon in the car park of the White Horse public house (although this last event is not exclusive to Red Nose Day and takes place nightly at various locations around the Clement Attlee estate).

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A participant in the Dalston pole dancing marathon warms up for the event. Cough up or the boxers come off

Other fundraising innovations include a bring and buy sale at which recent arrivals to the Dalston area will be invited to buy back their own mobile phones and then keep schtum about it or else.

Last year’s Clement Attlee Estate Red Nose appeal raised ‘shed loads’ of cash, every penny of which went to help disadvantaged children – most of them resident in the Clement Attlee Estate – who would otherwise not have been able to afford such essentials as Playstation consoles, bail money and fortnights in Magaluf.

 

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Both Sides Of Brexit Debate Simply Refuse To Shut The Hell Up

A group of 72 MPs have written to the BBC accusing it of failing to be sufficiently euphoric in its Brexit coverage in the months since the vote on the EU.

‘Feather boas,’ fumed one pro-Leave Tory MP who signed the letter, ‘feather boas at the very least. Conga lines. Bunting. Party poppers. Is that too much to ask?’

‘The BBC is our national broadcaster, for crying out loud! 52% of the British people voted – soberly and despite substantial misgivings – for an uncertain future outside the EU yet the BBC absolutely refuses to take its shirt off, pop a couple of Es and party like its 1999!

‘Commie bastards! I’m refusing to pay my license fee until they collectively neck a quart of WKD and get jiggy with a complete stranger in a nightclub toilet.’

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An artist’s impression of how the BBC’s Brexit coverage ought to look, featuring (l-r) Laura Keunssberg, Fiona Bruce, James Landale, Michal Husain and Andrew Marr (not pictured: Evan Davis splitting a speedball with Reeta Chakrabarti)

Westminster sources report that Remain campaigners are also planning to picket the BBC over the corporation’s ‘flagrantly triumphalist’ coverage of the Brexit vote. BBC political editor Laura Keunssberg (or ‘Thatcher in a kilt’ as she is known to Guardian readers) is to be specifically targeted for ‘constantly waving two fingers and baring her bottom in the direction of Donald Tusk. Or at least looking as if she wants to’.

Record numbers of despairing BBC executives have checked in to the Swiss Dignitas clinic this week. Others have joined Sky, which is seen by some as a better option than dying young, but only because the money’s not bad.

‘Nothing To See Here. Put That Pencil Down, Trotsky!’ – White House To Press Corps

The Dalston Mercury was among the broadcasters and newspapers banned from a White House briefing on the orders of President Trump’s press secretary Sean Spicer yesterday.

The briefing was scheduled to take place hours after Mr Trump had addressed a rally in Nuremberg at which he promised the American people that tomorrow belongs to them. Also Lebensraum im Osten, or something.

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Joseph Goebbels shows the New York Times the way out yesterday

Although the BBC, New York Times, CNN, The Guardian and The Los Angeles Times were among those refused admission to the briefing, the Dalston Mercury, because of it’s unmatched global reach, was singled out for special treatment and our reporters were locked in a box containing the White House ferret for the duration of the event.

According to Mr Spicer, the only news organisations allowed to cover White House briefings from now on are Breitbart, Pravda and ‘whatever paper that nice Joe Goebbels is writing for these days’.

Mr Trump – who apparently has never met a journalist – believes that if he and everyone in his administration appear evasive and shifty all the time, news reporters will eventually assume they have nothing to hide and will go away and write about dog shows instead. We wish the president luck with this courageous and imaginative innovation.

 

Channel 4 ‘Now Killing More People Than Isis’ – Government Statistics

Rival broadcasters are racing to develop new, ever more lethal reality TV shows after Sir Bradley Wiggins became the 100th celebrity killed while filming Channel 4’s The Jump.

Sir Bradley, who died after being eaten by a bear during snowcross training, told the Mercury: ‘Obviously, I’m absolutely gutted to have been mauled to death by that polar bear.

‘I had been hoping to make it through to the later stages of the show so I could be fatally injured during a ski-jump, like Olympic gymnast Beth Tweddle. Or, if not actually killed, I aspired to be left a helpless paraplegic like most former contestants.’

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Sir Bradley (centre) with other recently eaten celebrities who also got dressed in the dark

The Jump was devised by Channel 4 producers as a means of culling narcissistic celebrities approaching their sell-by date.

Tabloid newspapers have been fully supportive of the channel’s methods and are believed to supply producers of the show with an annual list of has-beens they would like to see killed or crippled or simply abandoned to the wilderness with no hope of return.

‘It makes perfect commercial sense,’ said one red-top editor who did not want to be named, ‘the cost of doorstepping Kerry Katona alone runs into millions each year.

‘Much better for everyone if she were to fall off an alp or get stuck in a glacier or something like that; pecked to death by penguins… I dunno. Just out of our hair.’

The BBC is rumoured to be developing its own Saturday teatime show in which former soap stars attempt to dodge Russian bombs as they race to reach the Isis capital of Raqqa dressed either as Salman Rushdie or Quentin Crisp.

ITV are planning a programme where retired boy band members are turned into charcoal briquettes. Robbie Williams is to be compelled – by an Act of Parliament if necessary – to take part.

 

‘Please Let Me Die!’ – Doctor Who In Desperate Appeal To BBC Accountants

Hopes that the resignation of Peter Capaldi might lead to the richly deserved death of Doctor Who have been dashed today, as rival special-interest groups lobby to have one of their own installed as the new Doctor.

Mr Capaldi is leaving the hit BBC show at Christmas, presumably because the scripts long since disappeared into the sucking void of their writers’ egotism and hubris and a once watchable children’s TV programme has become an exhausting exercise in hysterical, emotionally incontinent rambling bollocks. With Daleks.

There. We said it.

But instead of either letting the series die or returning to the noble tradition of dressing up men in lumpy rubber suits and making them chase Tom Baker through a gravel quarry outside Watford, the casting of the new Doctor has become a popular political rallying point.

Feminists were first to the barricades: according to this morning’s Guardian, unless the new Doctor is a woman the BBC will have proved themselves to be the Boko Haram of broadcasting.

Boko Haram are insisting the new Doctor be a Muslim but, as the Koran forbids the creation of graven images, all characters will have to be represented by attractive tile-work featuring abstract tessellations. Although these restrictions may inhibit plot and character development they will definitely benefit the BBC’s inclusivity agenda and are being discussed seriously at Broadcasting House.

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The Guardian’s choice to be the new Doctor

The transgender community is currently in conflict with the British Union of Drag Queens, with both groups insistent that a member of their own group would best suit the role of the body-shifting Time Lord. The transgender lobby claims that their members have, like Doctor Who, experienced actual physical transformation, whereas the drag queens point out that the Doctor, like them, still has a penis. The gays lost interest when Matt Smith left the role.

Peter Capaldi is hoping to return to roles with ‘much more swearing’ and less ‘poncing about dressed like Oscar-bloody-Wilde’. The producers of Doctor Who offered Mr Capaldi the opportunity to say ‘suck my sweaty balls’ in a broad Glaswegian accent during the Christmas special if he would stay with the show, but he declined.

 

‘Eat Kale Or Die!’ – Dalston Publican Goes Mad / Gets Rich

Dalston’s most self-consciously middle-class pub, the Lambent Whelk, is to launch an entirely new menu based on the indisputable scientific principle of ‘clean eating’.

‘Yeah,’ said the pub’s owner and executive nutritionist Mr Gideon Porter-Seabass, ‘I was, like, totally inspired by that Horizon programme about clean eating this week. It was a real wake-up call for us here at the Whelk.’

The principles of clean eating – which, like all important lifestyle innovations these days, were devised by soulless, greedy Americans with fake PhDs – mean avoiding processed food, grain and meat while eating lots of grated vegetables and going ‘Om’ a lot.

The effects on the body of a ‘clean’ diet include developing an unbearable air of superiority followed by rapid weight loss and an early death. Among its advocates only Gwyneth Paltrow has survived into middle age. Alas.

‘Because we care so much about the health of our customers,’ Mr Porter-Seabass told the Mercury, ‘we will do almost anything to lighten their wallets – heavy wallets being the number one cause of chiropractic distress in the Western world.

‘So our new menu replaces all that toxic meat and pastry, bread, puddings etc with carrots. Raw, obviously.

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Carrots. (Mud costs extra)

‘And because we have to interview the carrots individually before the grating process can begin – in order to confirm each vegetable’s absolute commitment to the wellbeing of our customers – a starter of shredded roots served with a glass of bespoke water comes to £19.50. Which is a bit of a result. For us. And the punters. But mainly us.’

The Lambent Whelk’s Radish Wednesday event earlier this week was a huge hit, with bovine cretins queuing around the block to be ripped-off in the manner traditional to Dalston foodies.

Some sort of celery-fest is also threatened. Advance booking recommended (as is a trip to McDonald’s afterwards).

 

Corbyn ‘To Ban Christmas And Cake Shops’ If Elected – The News In Brief

Labour party headquarters, Cloud Cuckoo Land:  Jeremy Corbyn has told the BBC he would like to see a cap put on the amount people can earn.

The killjoy Labour party leader asked ‘Why would someone need to earn more than £50m a year?’ and described footballers’ salaries as ‘ridiculous’.

He then went on to reveal that, in addition to salaries, a Labour government would ‘ration the amount of fun people can have’ in any given 24-hour period and would limit the number of sexual encounters a senior manager could enjoy to ‘a swift bunk-up on a Sunday morning plus a sly quickie on bank holidays’. Shop floor workers would have the same government-sanctioned nookie entitlement as their bosses, only they’d have to do it with slightly uglier wives.

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Jeremy Corbyn – now OFFICIALLY as mad as a box of frogs. If not madder

Labour MPs have responded to their leader’s latest initiative by jumping off bridges and slamming their own heads repeatedly in car doors.


Dalston, here, just outside the office:  The failure of broadband and phone networks in the Dalston area yesterday lead to the near collapse of Post Office services as thousands of teenagers had to resort to the Royal Mail in order to send photographs of their genitals to one another.

‘It was worse than Christmas,’ said one postal worker too traumatised to be named, ‘we was knee deep at the depot. Couldn’t hardly move for muff by lunchtime.’

Several Tory MPs were also affected by the technical problems, with one senior cabinet member reduced to hand-delivering pictures of his endowment to tabloid journalists masquerading as nubile party activists.