Tag Archives: Relationships

Trump goes to bed at 5.30 and reads to his ‘blanky’ until it’s time for sleepies at 6.00 claims Steve Bannon.

extra WTF!

Donald Trump’s former close friend and political advisor, Steve Bannon, has sensationally disclosed that the president habitually has a light snack at around 4.00pm, usually a boiled egg with soldiers or a round of white toast and Nutella, before saying goodnight to White House staff and going to bed at 5.30.

Trump then reads to his comfort blanky – usually passages from his favourite book, Budgie The Little Helicopter by The Duchess of York – and then snuggles down for his ‘sleepies’ at around 6.00am.

Bannon also reveals that Trump keeps the door locked from the inside in case his wife Melania comes in and demands, ‘special huggles’, a practice he has always found particularly difficult according to close family and friends.

Trump is reportedly furious at these revelations and took to Twitter in the early hours: “The failing loser Steve Bannon has it wrong yet again. Last night I stayed up to watch Bonanza at 8.00pm and didn’t go to bed with Blanky until half past. Also, I didn’t read Budgie last night. We had, Five Go To Smuggler’s Cove instead. Although, I had to stop at the scary bits in case Blanky did panty plops in the night again. Sad!”


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London Man Fairly Convinced New Girlfriend Had Bowel Movement On First Date

young woman

A woman pictured pretending she doesn’t want to go to the toilet last night

A 23-year-old man from Aldgate in East London has claimed to be “99% certain” that a young woman he had just cooked dinner for at his flat, went to the toilet and opened her bowels shortly after dessert.

Toby Carter, an electrical engineer, told us:

“It was our first date and we were both feeling pretty nervous and a little awkward I guess. I had made us steak and kidney pie with peas and mash and my new girlfriend seemed to really enjoy it. It was just after we’d eaten our dessert of rhubarb crumble and custard that I noticed a change in her demeanour. She kept fidgeting in her chair and wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“She then excused herself and went to the bathroom. Her movements at this point were hurried, and she kept her head down as she walked past me. She must have been gone for well over five minutes, during which I heard her cough loudly at least four or five times. I can only assume she was trying to drown out the splashes.

“After she’d pulled the chain, she remained in there for quite a while, presumably waiting for the bubbles to go from the top of the water so she could check for floaters or submarines.

“When she came back, her face was pretty red and she avoided eye contact for quite some time. I tried to smooth things over by making a few light-hearted remarks about the noisy plumbing, but it only seemed to make matters worse and she left shortly after,  saying that she had to get up early for work.

“After she’d gone, I went to the bathroom myself and it was pretty obvious she’d been spraying perfume in there to mask the stench of rotting greens”

When asked if he’d be seeing her again, he told us that he would, but would only be serving drinks and a few savoury nibbles.

The East London Gazette

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Dear Soz


Dear Soz Satire.

Single men. Create the illusion of being married by tuning your radio between stations so that it emits an annoying high-pitched whine, then turn the volume up full blast while you watch football on the TV.

For added authenticity, drink heavily during the match and then finish off the evening by smashing yourself over the head with a frying pan.

Gus Coitus-Interruptus


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London Man Claims To Have Felt Fleeting Interest During Girlfriend’s Relationship Talk

nagging woman

A man wonders whether West Ham United should play with two up front during crisis talks with girlfriend

A 23-year-old man from South London last night claimed to have experienced a brief moment of vague interest during a heart to heart talk with his girlfriend, who wished to discuss where their relationship was going.

Del Carter, a motor vehicle technician from Lambeth revealed:

“It was last Saturday night and I was looking forward to Match Of The Day when my girlfriend, suddenly and without warning, began to discuss our relationship and her hopes and fears about our future together.

“Naturally, I zoned out immediately and started wondering about the number of cans of beer I had left in the fridge. I even got up and checked at one point to set my mind at rest. However, as soon as I sat back down she began talking about how our relationship had developed over the last year and how she hoped we could move up to a new level if we really committed to each other and learned to concentrate on the important things.

“It was when she began to reminisce about how we’d first met that I suddenly felt a fleeting moment of interest. I began to vaguely recall how I’d dumped my previous girlfriend to take up with her, and started to wonder if I still had those pics of my ex in her underwear on my phone. I had a quick check to make sure and fortunately, they were still there. I sighed with relief and began to mentally go over the day’s football results as my girlfriend moved on to how she sometimes felt taken for granted and unimportant.

“Luckily, she had just started to talk about her best friend’s wonderful relationship, and how she and her fiance were planning a June wedding, when the match started and I was able to send her out to get me another beer while I put the headphones on to listen to the commentary in peace”

This latest revelation comes just two weeks after a man from Sheffield claimed to have expressed a half-hearted opinion on interior decor when his girlfriend told him she was thinking of painting the downstairs toilet.

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LEtTeRs tO LyObOcHKa: A Soviet Love Affair.

soviet vibro



A few months ago I bought an old and battered, 1963, East German, Trabant motor vehicle at auction for a few pounds with a view to restoring it to its former glory.

Beneath the spare wheel I found a small cache of letters, bound with hemp gardening twine and bearing the post mark of the former Soviet Union.

I spent the next few hours reading them, and in the course of doing so, discovered that they were written by a Russian man from Vladivostok to his lover in the city of Petrograd in 1965.

How they came to be secreted beneath the spare wheel of the old, rusting wreck is a mystery to me. Perhaps she returned them to him after their love died, or maybe they were never delivered at all due to the chaotic nature of the postal service at that time. Whatever the facts of the matter, I found them rather uplifting and full of a kind of myopic hope for happier times and for an eventual fulfilment of their passion.

I should therefore, with your permission, like to reproduce them here for you throughout this week. Here is the first I read, dated December 24 1968:

My Most Darlingest Lyobochka

I am hoping most earnestly that you are well and that production is up in the glorious bomb factory. The weather here is being very kind for time of year. Last night was being just minus 30 deg Celsius, with periodic snow flurries, so Comrade Wife and I went for stroll to shops for new toilet brush and to collect Christmas ration of beetroot vodka. On way we bumped into Comrade Armski from Apartment Block #29. He told us toilet brush consignment was due in Spring but that we could borrow his. This is typical of the glorious and most noble spirit of our heroic neighbours. I will however report him to local party official in morning in case he is stealing brush from glorious communal toilet bloc.

It is with great sadness that I must be telling you that Comrade Cat is missing and has not been seen since last Tuesday. Despite the unseasonably mild weather I am most concerned. I am leaving saucer of turnip water outside door each night but it is remaining untouched.

How I long to rub industrial tractor grease onto your Soviet buttocks my most darlingest darling.

Respectfully Yours

Comrade Danski

Apt. Bloc #27




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Ask George: The Canine Angling Expert & Relationship Counsellor You Can Trust

george nuts

“Tight Lines!”

Dear George

I’m a middle-aged woman with rapidly fading looks and a burgeoning waistline who foolishly thought she had found true love and a lifelong soul mate, until something happened last week that bought my entire world crashing down around my ears.

I had been out for the day, doing a spot of coarse fishing on the River Swale in Yorkshire. It had been a slow day in that regard with just a few small roach and an 8oz Perch to show for my efforts. It was a bit of a chilly one so I packed my tackle away early and came home.

When I got back I called out for my partner but there was no reply. Thinking he was upstairs taking a nap I went up to the bedroom. What I saw there will remain with me until the day I die.

My boyfriend, and the man I had come to love and trust over the preceding months, was in bed with our Airedale Terrier, Bertie. They were kissing passionately and were clearly having sex.

Unseen by either of them I fled from the room in tears and rushed to the bathroom, where I vomited over and over before laying down on the floor, shaking and crying my eyes out.

I confronted them both later that evening when my lover admitted they’d been romping behind my back for months and that they wanted to be together. I threw them both out that same night and have been absolutely distraught ever since.

Please help me if you can George as I’m feeling so low and so alone right now. I’ve started drinking heavily and have even thought of taking my own life on a couple of occasions. I just don’t know which way to turn to be honest with you.

Yours Faithfully

Sally Ripper-Territory



Dear Sally

Yours is a fairly common problem, particularly at this time of year when the fish start to go off the feed due to the cooler weather.

I suggest you give the rivers a miss for the time being and opt for a stillwater venue, where there are still plenty of big Bream, Carp, and of course, Pike to be found that will readily succumb to a well-presented bait at this time of the year.

All the very best, and of course, “Tight Lines!”


For all your angling or relationship-based problems why not call one of George’s helplines:

0800 29875 – Finding A Piking Hotspot/Overcoming Erectile Dysfunction

0800 57892 – Chub Fishing Using Natural Baits/Vaginal Dryness Issues

9800 67584 – Which Groundbait?/Too Tiny For Love

0800 13983 – Livebaiting For Big Pike/Embarrassing Itching

0800 58976 – Stillwater Ledgering For Bream/It’s Over In Seconds

0800 60985 – Carping For Beginners/Trapped Inside A Woman’s Body

0800 58214 – River Fishing In Winter/Bondage & Sado Masochism Tips

0800 79873 – Specimen Perch Hunting/I Think I Might Be Gay


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Government Proposal Will Allow Dying Women To Hold The Remote Control For A Bit


“I don’t give a damn how many days you have left love. The footie stays ON!”


The Home Office yesterday announced a controversial proposal that will permit any woman diagnosed with a terminal medical condition to hold the television remote control for up to an hour, even after her husband or male partner has arrived home from work or the pub.

Under the proposal women will be able to switch channels ad nauseum while alone in the house but must seek tacit consent when a male is present in the room.

While the proposal has been widely welcomed by women’s groups, there have been some dissenting voices opposing the move.

Edward Carter, 46, a furniture porter from Spitalfields, East London, whose wife has terminal bowel cancer, told us. “I’m absolutely dead against it to be honest with you. What happens if I’m watching a re-run of a World Cup group match at teatime and she switches over to A Place In The Sun or The One Show? It’s just another example of these bloody feminists throwing their weight around if you ask me. They’ll be expecting us to stop giving the old woman the occasional clip round the ear next!”

It is understood that the proposal only extends to the television remote control at present, although it is rumoured that a further move is being considered allowing women, who can prove beyond doubt that they have less than a month to live, to switch on the radio manually and listen to The Archers omnibus edition on Sunday mornings as long as their husband isn’t too hungover.



Filed under Humor, Humour, Satire