Monthly Archives: April 2014

Australian Police Launch Nationwide Hunt For Man Suspected Of Initiating Foreplay With Girlfriend

For more completely unnecessary and hurtful racial stereotyping visit my new blog The League Of Mental Men. There are “some other people” there too but you can always pretend to be on the phone if they try to talk to you. I know I do!

The League of Mental Men!


“Brace yerself Sheila, I’m coming in mate!”

Australian police were on full alert last night as news broke that a 35 year old Sidney man may have attempted to stimulate his girlfriend sexually prior to intercourse. The 33 year old woman concerned is believed to be in a shocked and distressed condition and was being cared for by relatives last night.

A spokesman for the Sidney Police Department spoke briefly to reporters last night. “A 33 year old female has reported to us that a male Sidney resident attempted to commit an unselfish sexual act with her prior to consensual sex taking place. We are taking this matter extremely seriously and we urge women in the area to be extra vigilant and to alert police immediately if approached by this man. We also appeal to other women to come forward if they have ever experienced wonderfully pleasurable or deeply satisfying…

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Letters To Soz



Dear Soz

They say that the average man thinks about sex every 35 minutes. Well I disagree. I’m a world war two veteran who was captured by the Japanese in 1944. During my imprisonment I was nailed naked to a tree before being beaten across the chest and genitals with bamboo canes for well over an hour and I can quite honestly say that throughout the entire procedure I didn’t think about getting my leg over once.

Where’s the accuracy or fairness in that then?

Bill Wardrobe


In case you were wondering where the hell I’ve been these last few weeks (what do you mean you hadn’t noticed I’d gone?), I’ve moved the blog, complete with lame satirical gags and the blog cat, to here…

It’s pretty much like this blog except some other bods tell jokes in it too. So give us a follow guys and I’ll happily add you back. It’ll be great to be amongst old friends again as the majority of em in the other place want me dead to be perfectly honest with yers and I for one don’t blame em.

Keep smiling and be lucky

Clivey x

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Letters To LOMM

Jesus H Christ! Who writes this stuff??…ah 😦

The League of Mental Men!


Dear League Of Mental Men

I’m not a bigoted man but I’d strongly advise the president of The United States to change the name of his country retreat, Camp David, to something a bit more manly.

How on earth does he expect despotic world leaders to mend their ways when he invites them for talks at a place with such a gay name?

I suggest he calls it Butch Brad, Assertive Al or No-Nonsense Mr Knuckles or something along those lines.

Yours etc

Big Bill Pantypads

San Francisco


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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




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 and a myriad of other odious characters can now be found in the April issue of this disreputable rag. So don’t delay, give it a miss today! 




Filed under Humour, Personal, Satire, Spoof

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



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


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. So don’t delay, give it a miss today! 



Filed under Humour, Personal

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




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.


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.


For more utter drivel of a similarly appalling standard please visit


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


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


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