Jane Austin-Morris. No Nonsense 19th Century Relationship Counsellor

jane austin-morris

 

 

Dear Jane

Please help me I beg of you for I find myself in the most parlous of states. I fear that my very sanity will be at stake if you cannot bring me succour in this most distressing of matters.

I am but a simple country girl, low born and of yeoman stock. I was raised in a rather pretty cottage on the Yorkshire moors called Wuthering Heights with my parents, my brother Hindley and an adopted foundling, Heathcliff.

As the years passed my affection for my adopted brother grew into a deep and passionate regard. He grew to become a taciturn and even a cruel man on occasion but my love for him deepened and flourished for all that.

Following a bitter quarrel one evening, during which I spitefully lied about my love for another gentleman, he stormed out into the night, disappearing from my life for many years.

During his absence I married another. A well born kindly gentleman of a most gentle and trusting mien. Although I held my husband in great affection I could not forget my first and most enduring love. During those long nights when my husband held me in his embrace it was Heathcliff’s arms that enfolded me and his warm lips that were pressed to my own.

Just as I had begun to believe that I had lost him for good, he returned! He had made a great fortune overseas and has now purchased my former home, my beloved Wuthering Heights where he now resides with my sister, Isabella, whom he uses most cruelly and in the most base manner imaginable.

Despite this I ache for his embraces and yearn for him to come to me and for him to make me his own. My heart is being torn asunder and I am at my wit’s end. I beg you to counsel me in this matter my dearest madame for I fear that if I can’t have him I shall have no recourse other than to put an end to my forlorn and loveless existence on this earth.

Yours Imploringly

Cathy

Yorks.

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Dear Cathy

Try feigning a life-threatening ague and take to your bed. Then simply get a servant girl to summon the gentleman to your bedside under the pretext of attending your imminent death. As soon as he bends over your wan, feverish body, pretend to have some kind of fit and throw off all the bedclothes affording him a cracking view of your tits and growler. After a couple of days have passed, pretend to have recovered and then summon him back to your bed chamber for a rattling good bunk up.

I wish you every success and the utmost health and happiness for the future.

I remain your most humble confidante madam

Jane.

Jane and a myriad of other odious characters can now be found in the April issue of this disreputable rag.  http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire So don’t delay, give it a miss today! 

 

 

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Ted Threesome. Sexually Insane Gardening Consultant

 

 

Dear Ted

My husband and myself are now both retired  and have been considering applying for an allotment. We’re quite elderly and we realise there’s a fair bit of hard work involved but we both feel that the fresh air and exercise will do us good. Then of course there’s the savings we’ll make by growing our own fruit and veg, jam making etc.

I was therefore wondering if you could give us any advice on the best type of soil for growing a variety of produce. We were thinking in terms of a few apple or Victoria plum trees, a bed of strawberries, along with some vegetable staples such as potatoes, onions, sprouts and so on.

We look forward to hearing from you as soon as you have a moment Ted as we’re quite keen to make a start now that spring is upon us.

Thank you in anticipation

Marjory & Albert Twelvetrees

Mile End

London

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Dear Marjory & Albert

Have you ever tried group sex? I bet you have you saucy sods!. Did Albert watch or join in? Have you got any pics or video? I’ll pay cash money for them if you have!

Have you ever done it in the woods where people might spot you? It’s the thrill of being discovered isn’t it? Did you go out in just a fur coat and a pair of knickers Marjory? Christ I wish I’d been there you filthy little minx!

Is that why you want an allotment? So you can romp naked in the shed while people outside are tending their plots? Jesus Christ I knew it!

What colour are they Marjory? Are you wearing any?… Is Albert???

UNH! UNH! UNH! UNH! UNH! Oh yeah you dirty bleeders! You know what I like don’t you?

All The Very Best For The Future

Ted.

PS. A good open, loamy soil, mixed with a good strong mulch, should bring excellent results with most type of fruit and veg. Good planting!

Ted and a myriad of other odious characters can now be found in the April issue of this disreputable rag.   http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire So don’t delay, give it a miss today! 

 

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The Soz Satire Mint Proudly Present: The Oscar Pistorius Bathroom Door Of Hope

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We at the world-renowned Soz Satire Mint are delighted to bring you The Oscar Pistorius Bathroom Door Of Hope.

Lovingly glued together by some Polish benefit cheats we spotted hanging about outside Wickes DIY store in Bermondsey, each door comes with a cast iron guarantee valid for something in the region of 20 minutes from the date of purchase.

Fashioned from the finest quality plywood and with genuine plastic handles we guarantee you’ll be absolutely delighted with this wonderful embellishment to your bathroom.

This is a limited offer only, so order now and you could be one of the lucky customers to receive a genuine replica, Kevlar bullet proof vest, fairly similar to the one worn every night in bed by Oscar’s last girlfriend.

If you’d like to take delivery of one of these magnificent doors at some unspecified date in the future send a cash payment of £2,159.00, or better still, your credit card plus pin, to:

The Soz Satire Mint

C/O The Boleyn Arms

West Ham.

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Disclaimer: My boyfriend is a bit of a nutter, especially after a few ales, so I’m prepared to get up to my eyeballs in debt to purchase anything I can hide behind on a Saturday night after he gets in from the pub. I’m passably attractive and promise to be dressed in a flimsy negligee when your door fitter arrives.

Signed…

For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire

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12 Years An England Fan: Football Association Hit By Bonded Slavery Storm

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Two “uppity” Sheffield Wednesday fans pictured last night in Greg Dyke’s back garden.

 

 

Following on from the recent outcry over the pricing of replica England World Cup shirts, which are to retail at a hefty £90.00 each, the England Football Association are now under fire over a proposed move which will force supporters to sign a bonded slavery agreement on behalf of themselves and their families which will secure them the right to buy an England pennant to fly from their cars during the Brazil-hosted tournament this summer.

Speaking in defence of the move from his sprawling sugar plantation in Rotherham, the head of the FA, Greg “Boss” Dyke, 97, told reporters.

“Me and some of the other FA boys have noticed that some of these supportin’ sonsofbitches have been gittin’ a might too uppity just lately, so we done decided to learn ‘em some manners. If that means enslaving their no-good asses then ah guess that’s just the way it has to be boys”

Meanwhile reaction amongst fans has been mixed. One supporter, who asked that his identity be withheld, told us from his log cabin just outside Middlesborough.

“Landsakes! What’s y’all a tellin’ me? Massa Dyke he’s a hard man fo’ sho boss! Still ah guess if he’s all set on me a sellin’ mah ass and mah wife and chillen into slavry ah guess there aint nothin’ else fo’ it! Ah mean to say, if a dumb supportin’ boy like me needs a pennant a flyin’ and a flutterin’ from his car then what else is a body to do? Lawks ah swear ah don’t know sah!”

When we tried to relay fan’s concerns over the proposal to Mr Dyke, his wife told us he’d just left home with a number of FA board members and a pack of coon dogs to hunt down a runaway West Ham supporter who was spotted selling counterfeit Steven Gerrard mugs in Whitechapel Market.

Disclaimer: No England fans were given an ass whuppin’ or lynched from an Elm Tree during the writing of this skit…I expect.

For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire

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Jason And His Lager Thoughts. Grog-Fuelled Addiction Counsellor.

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“I’ll tek the f*****g lot of yers!”

 

 

Dear Jason

My name’s Mary and I think I may be becoming too reliant on drink to get me through the day.

I was always a sensible drinker until recently. A glass or two of wine at the weekend, the odd cold beer while on holiday etc. However, over the last 6 months my alcohol intake has increased quite substantially. As soon as I wake up I drink a can of strong lager with a Jack Daniels chaser. I then down 4 or 5 pints of light and bitter while I get dressed and put on my make up.

At work I drink constantly from a vacuum flask containing Sambuca and blackcurrant, which my colleagues think is black coffee. I then have around 10 pints of scrumpy cider in the pub on the way home from work before relaxing in front of the TV with a few bottles of red wine and a 6 pack of Tennants Super.

Friends tell me that my behaviour has altered lately too and I’ve been arrested a number of times for brawling in the street and for sleeping in shop doorways

I realise I’m probably exceeding the amount of units recommended by health experts and would love to cut down my intake before things get out of hand.

Is there any advice you can pass on regarding this one Jason as I know you’ve overcome similar problems yourself in the past?

Yours faithfully

Mary Terry

Glasgow.

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Dear Mary

Can I get back to you after I’ve been down the off-licence Mary? Only I’m shaking like a shitting dog here love.

All The Very Best

Jason.

Disclaimer: No Ancient Greek heroes were slain by sword wielding skeletons in the writing of this skit…hopefully.

For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire *hic*

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Egyptian Masochist Complains Of Humane Treatment At Hands Of Police During 12 Hour Detention

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A cup of cocoa similar to the one Musharak claims he was forced to drink during his detention

 

 

A 35 year old man with masochistic tendencies has revealed that he was treated firmly but extremely fairly during an overnight detention in a Cairo police station.

Ali Musharak, a taxi driver, told reporters that he was arrested and detained after being caught throwing rocks at security forces during a street riot last Tuesday.

Looking pale and visibly shaken by his ordeal, Musharak said.

“It was a night I’ll never forget as long as I live. After my arrest I was told by an officer at the police station that I was going to be detained overnight for my own safety, or at least until peace had been restored on the streets.

“I was then led to a cell by two officers who gave me tea and biscuits and a cosy blanket. They then asked me if I wanted the light on or off before leaving me to get some sleep. To my disappointment neither of them even once threatened to beat me on the soles of my feet, let alone send electric shocks through my genitals while I stood in a bowl of water.

“At one point, at around 3.00am, a burly officer entered the cell and my hopes grew that at last I was going to be subjected to inhumane treatment of some description, or at the very least, be dragged from the cell for brutal interrogation by a sadistic member of the secret police who would slap me around a bit while I was tied helpless to a chair.

“Instead of which, the officer asked me if I was warm enough and offered to make me a cup of hot chocolate. He then tucked the blanket in around my feet and left. It was the lowest point of my entire ordeal by far and I began to wonder if this incessant kindness would ever end.

“At around 9.00am the following morning a high ranking officer came in with my morning tea and a form, asking me to rate the comfort of the accommodation and friendliness of the staff on a scale ranging from: “Polite but a little distant” to “I’d certainly recommend this station to family and friends”

“I was then given a plate of scrambled eggs with crispy bacon and offered a lift back to my home in a police car. It was an ordeal I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy to be honest with you”

A weeping Masharak was then led away by relatives after telling reporters that he was planning to leave the country for Zimbabwe in the next few days, where he plans to fire a pea shooter at Robert Mugabi and to accuse him publicly of dyeing his hair.

For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire

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Japanese Soldier Discovered Fighting World WarII In Dorking

 japanese soldier

Banzai!!!!…ah.

 

Details have emerged of the discovery of a Japanese WW II veteran in a small wooded copse just outside the small  town of Dorking in Surrey.

It appears the man, now aged 97, has been waging a solitary war against The Allies for the past 70 years in the mistaken belief that he was still in the jungles of Burma surrounded by The Chindits, completely unaware that Emperor Hirohito had surrendered to  the Americans in The Potsdam Agreement of 1945.

In 1944, Toshiro Shigamitsu, a corporal in the Imperial Japanese Army, was sent on a solitary forward reconnaissance mission to locate the position of British troops. Having discovered a small patrol of Royal Engineers setting up camp by a river ,the slightly built soldier had then crawled into the rucksack of an English Lance Bombardier, intending to lie concealed until first light before launching a sneak attack on the unsuspecting Tommies.

In an ironic twist of fate, the British soldier in question went home on leave to Dorking the following morning and unwittingly took the diminutive Japanese with him, along with his belt kit and smoking paraphernalia.

It would appear that on arrival in the sleepy stockbroker belt village, the unsuspecting Oriental crawled out of the rucksack and entered a nearby copse to lay up until further orders came from his commanding officer. He then remained secreted there for the next 70 years, ready to fight and die for The Emperor.

He apparently lived on a diet consisting entirely of berries and small Grayling that he’d caught from the nearby River Mole, using a shoelace with a rudimentary hook attached. He’d then baited the hook with bits of cheese and other morsels that he’d found in the discarded sandwiches of local picnickers and hikers.

Through an interpreter, Corporal Shigamitsu spoke to  reporters last night

“As far as I was concerned the war was still on and I was determined to do my bit for The Emperor and my beloved homeland. I must admit I was a bit concerned when I didn’t hear from my unit for over 2 years, but I put it down to the fact they were probably lying low and keeping radio silence whilst luring the British into a cunning trap. “I also noticed the weather had changed considerably, and that the piercing cries of Howler Monkeys and the sound of exotic bird-call had tailed off a bit. But I was determined to stick it out. I fashioned a sturdy shelter and an ad hoc machine gun nest from bits of twigs and old shopping trolleys I found partially submerged in the river and waited for any sign of the enemy.

“As the years passed my resolve strengthened.  I felt sure that my comrades would send word at any moment that victory was ours, and that the British dogs had been cleansed from The Far East forever. However, I must confess that I sometimes yearned to be able to abandon my post and go back to my former life as a bell boy in a small hotel.

“Now that I’ve done my duty to the best of my ability, all I want to do is return home to my wife in Hiroshima. I last spoke to her in early August 1945, via a forces telephone, but our conversation was brief and ended suddenly after she said  “Hang on a moment dear, there seems to be a bit of a kerfuffle outside”

 

For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire

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