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Extracts from the Complete Book of Lies Promotion (Short Story) Comedy Quiz Extract from I, Roger Knightly The Village Idiot (Short Story) The Frost-Hitler Interview On Company Time Your Stars with Mystic Mabel A Guide to Alien Women Sex Causes Global Warming Nigerian Scam Secrets Your First Robot Professor Pete's Advice Barmaids Clicking the Header on any page brings you back to this Menu page. Extract from The Stormer The Case of the Scented Love Letter The Benefits of changing your name Short Story Competition Confessions of a MILF Barbarians Concussion Corner Eskimos Why Brits Like it Hot A Sub-Human's Love Song


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Getting in touch with your feminine side could be a weekend thing with news that scientists at the San Francisco Institute for the Sexually Confused have created a drug which allows temporary sex-changes. The drug works by suppressing the body's natural hormones, allowing those of the opposite sex, which are always present, to emerge. The effect lasts for forty eight hours. One enthusiastic user is Bob Nasty of London, who has been using the drug, called Mixiton, for several months. "It's a stress-relief thing for me," he told this reporter. "I pop the tab on a Friday evening and become Jill for the weekend. This allows me to wears bras and have men kiss me, which is something I miss since giving up rugby playing due to a groin injury. It's opened up a whole new area for me." Bob/Jill (pictured) went on to say, "I have a girlfriend, Alice, during the week and she becomes Alex at the weekend, but I don't see much of him as he tends to go out with his mates to watch a football match and get drunk. I'm really looking forward to a weekend when she doesn't take Mixitonl and we can have a girly weekend together." Alice said, "Bob used to love getting into my pants, and now he really does. He's always borrowing my stuff."


The Pentagon has finally admitted the existence of UFOs but to Earth as their alien occupants are fascination for human sexual General Butch Hansen said, "The buggers and we have no cause to can get their kicks from watching The General added that the information from an alien they were "We had a hell of a time getting the say they do not pose a threat merely voyeurs with a activity. aliens are just dirty little fear them as long as they people at it." military had gleaned this holding at the notorious Area 51. little guy to talk, and he finally only opened up when one

of our female lieutenants showed him her bra. Their technology and weapons are far superior to ours but we can keep them happy by not closing our curtains. Let them look, I say."


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A parrot is to sue the lengendary Monty Python comedy team, claiming that his grandfather, who appeared in the famous 'Dead Parrot' sketch, was not compensated adequately for his performance in the TV show. George Parrot said, "It's all right for Cleese and Palin to swan about with their fame and fortune but what about my poor old gramps, Ernie? It was his performance as a deceased parrot, what had shuffled off this mortal coil, which bought them their accolades. And what did he get for it, a handful of birdseed. He was such a good actor that viewers assumed that it was an actual dead parrot that was used. But it was Ernie, acting his socks off. Admittedly he had a very bad agent but the Pythons should cough up."


The Taj Mahal in Agra, India, noted as one of the most beautiful buildings in the world, is to become an IT support call centre it was announced yesterday. We are suffering from a great backlash from western consumers, explained Bandu Lal, President of the Indiatalks Corporation, which will be staffing the centre. They do not like their western companies outsourcing to India and thus reducing the number of jobs available to them. Also they are aggrieved that our call centre operatives do not appreciate all the nuances of the way the English is spoken in their native countries. For instance, what does the up yours and sit on it mean? It is most confusing as The Taj Mahal was built in the 17th century by the Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan, for his wife, Mumtaz

these are not phrases we use here. If it is intended as Mahal, and some have said that to use it as a call the insult it is not very effective. We much prefer to be cnetre is a desecration of an artistic masterpiece. creative and use terms like, Your face resembles the hinder parts of a baboon. Now, when we relocate to the Taj we hope that callers will realise that they are talking to someone who is sitting in a most beautiful place and should be respected and not abused.

Bandu Lal, however, was not fazed. If India wants to progress we cannot hold onto the past. We need jobs and we have educated and well-trained people to do those jobs. To the critics I say, Blow me!

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Adolescents are not permitted to eat peanuts in Taiwan unless offered by their siblings. Strip poker is regarded as a contact sport in New Zealand. No-one knows the way to Amarillo.
Extracted from The Complete Book of Lies by Professor Ed Spurious.

The national currency of Nepal is called the Cheese. There are 48.3 Cheeses to the US Dollar. Bisexuals cannot become priests in Kazakhstan unless they own a vertical take-off aircraft. Muhammad Ali once punched a hole in the Great Wall of China. John Wayne was allergic to sailors. Robin Hood couldnt dance. The tortoise is, pound for pound, the strongest creature on Earth. The Lethbridge Wife Swapping Society closed when a library opened in the village. Being forced to watch Friends for more than three hours is regarded as cruel and unusual punishment under the terms of the Geneva Convention. A wife who catches her husband in flagrante with another woman in Inner Mongolia is permitted to shout loudly. The supreme Greek god, Zeus, wore spectacles. Elvis Presley couldnt whistle. The wages of sin in Upper Volta are half a dozen eggs. Paddling above the ankle bone is forbidden to grandmothers in Lower Silesia unless one of their children is in banking. Registered witches are exempt from military service in Bhutan. Spanish women cannot make cheesecake. Hercule Poirot was once Belgian light middle weight boxing champion for three minutes.

Only members in good standing of the official Communist Party in N. Korea are permitted to do the lambada. Internationally, women are more attracted to men called Hector than any other name. Nose hair is regarded as a sign of insanity in Denmark. The indigenous Indians of Quexalcoatl regard Neil Diamond as a deity. Men called Terrence cannot be killed with a silver bullet. The Kodiak bear farts continuously. Evadne Bellethwaite was the only ballet dancer ever convicted of shoplifting in the 1960s. The last man on Earth will be called Bob. Red-haired men play tennis better than blondehaired men if they are left-handed. Soldiers who win a battle-field honour while serving in the Latvian armed forces are awarded a free daily sardine sandwich. Wearing headphones for more than 7 hours a day can cause bunions. The Dalai Lama likes to jive. The ancient Romans were scared of bumblebees. Penguins can be taught to do algebra. Ecuador is the only country in the world where graphic designers are venerated as gods. Scottish inventor Horace Brown invented the time machine next week last Thursday. Though the ancient Egyptians invented papyrus and used it as paper, their failure to invent cardboard seriously hampered their mail order business opportunities. Lying is tax-deductible. MORE LIES LATER


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They say old Angus is thinking of taking up the nudism, Sandy said. the bar. He is an American gentleman, Brenda explained, A reporter or something. Fergus grunted. Man, man, the nudism, at his From Idaho where the potatoes come from. age. Hell catch his death of cold. They were sat in the snug bar of The Stag Hotel on the Hebridean island of Uraigh and the biting, Atlantic wind rattled the windows. No, no, hes not a fool, old Angus, Sandy explained, Hes not attacking the nakedness like a madman, he intends to acclimatise his body to the lack of garments. Fergus took a sip of his beer, which was rapidly losing its fizz. Ah, acclimatisation, thats a wise course of action. What way is he doing the acclimatising? One item of clothing at a time. He came out this morning without a sock. He always was a cautious man. At that rate itll be August by the time he gets down to his semmit. Sandy nodded sagely. Aye, but November when he gets down to his underpants and then there will be trouble. Brenda the barmaid brought over two fresh pints and placed them before the two, old, grizzled, veterans of the isles. Their questioning looks brought the response that the beers had been bought for them by the large, florid gentleman, perched on a stool at They lifted their glasses in an expression of gratitude to their benefactor and were rewarded with a gracious nod of the head. Of course it will come as a great shock to Anguss wife, the nudism, her being a lesbian. Tut, tut, Im surprised at you, Sandy retorted, Fine well you know shes only a part-time lesbian. At the weekends shes devoted to mens trousers. Fergus looked abashed. True, true. A fine woman. Her fruitcake is not be sneezed at. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the blazing peat fire. They say the Laird is to be building a pyramid, Fergus said finally. Young Ranald always was an ambitious chap. There will be a grant in it, no doubt. Oh, more than one. There will be the design and then the building of the thing itself, and Ive heard hes getting some European Union money for its artistic qualities. What way will it be artistic? Sandy asked. It is to be spherical, Fergus explained, It will be the only spherical pyramid in the world and will put those Egyptians in their place with their


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pointy things. And what will the laird be doing with his spherical pyramid? He needed a new venue for his annual sexual deviance convention. The barn was getting a bit drafty and the theme for this year is to be the tribadism and frottage. They drank a toast to the new edifice and once again only the ticking of the clock on the wall broke the silence. Speaking of lesbians, Fergus murmured quietly, young Peter is thinking of taking up the homosexuality. No, I never took him for the type.

Of course, of course, Sandy offered, also trying to add oil to the troubled waters, but its strange how many of your gentlemen friends are fresh off the rigs with wages in their pockets. Brendas lips curled into a sneer. They are interesting, unlike some daft old codgers whove never set foot off the island. I have been to Oban! Sandy retorted, stung by her rebuke at his lack of exploratory zeal, And it is a fine place if youve a mind for spanking and dressing in womens underwear, but you know yourself that it is Uraigh for the real debauchery.

He was tempted by a Burmese juggler the last Debauchery? Brenda snorted in reply, The time he was in Edinburgh at the Festival. And he wants to be a pop star as well. Oh, it will be mandatory then. You cannot achieve chart success unless you are willing to be accommodating. Thats written in stone. I thought it was written on the toilet wall. Och, youre the funny one, Sandy, Fergus said, giving his friend a playful nudge, Fine well you know its only Brendas phone number thats on the toilet wall. Brenda, having overheard this sally, slammed the glass she was polishing down on the bar. I heard that! she protested, Its not my phone number at all. Some joker has just written my name up there with a spurious number. Calm yourself, Brenda, Fergus soothed, We found on old Calums collar. A look of fear flashed across Sandys eyes, but he recovered quickly. Mr MacPherson was a fine schoolteacher and regarding the school most debauched thing that has happened in Uraigh in the past fifty years was the time the school teachers lipstick was

knew fine well it wasnt you. A lassie with your rabbit, all charges were dropped. business acumen would have had a price list up next to the phone number. But Brenda was to not to be so easily placated. I do not sell my body, she insisted, If I have relations with a gentleman it is because I find him attractive. Brenda shrugged and disappeared to answer the phone. The two old coves eyes flashed at each other and secret messages were passed. Brenda brought another two pints, once again supplied by the American and once again the pair

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saluted his generosity. Is it true you have a certificate in the oral sex? Fergus asked his comrade finally. I did have, Sandy lamented, but it has lapsed and I will need to be sitting another examination to get a new one. There are new techniques coming along on a daily basis and a man has to keep his wits about him or he will be left behind. The wifes not complaining, is she? Fergus asked sympathetically. Not at all, for she has a happy nature, does my Bella. Satisfied with only the twelve orgasms a night, she is, and her once the love slave of an African prince. Ah, happy days, Fergus smiled. Man, I recall the days when we were young swingers and I would be eating smoked haggis from Bellas bellybutton while you serviced my Gladys. A smile flitted across Sandys face. Aye, I have many fond memories of your Gladyss buttocks. Still as firm as ever? Fergus grinned proudly. Ill tell you, Sandy, her buttocks may have grown with the passing of the years but all it means is that these days instead of cracking walnuts between her cheeks, she can now tackle coconuts. And Ill bet theres not a woman on the mainland can manage that, his crony acknowledged, They may talk of their Glasgow and their Perth but when it comes to buttocks, Uraigh cannot be surpassed. And there is a new generation coming on as we speak. Yon young Marie that works at the bakers. Lovely behind. Sandy clutched at his heart. Jeeze, Fergus, dont mention Maries behind. It is costing me a fortune in doughnuts, just to catch a glimpse

of it now and again. I think she has her jeans stapled to her, to have them adhere so well to her figure. Her behind is a work of art and should be in a gallery. Maybe we should be constructing one, here on Uraigh. The Uraigh Gallery of Female Bums? Sandy shook his head sadly. They would be saying we were discriminating against the male arse and would take us to court. Ferguss enthusiasm subsided. It was only a thought. They looked up as the big American swallowed the last of his brandy, hopped from his barstool and headed towards the bowels of the hotel and his room. Sandy cleared his throat noisily. Im fair looking forward to the strip karaoke next week, he said over-loudly. Once the visitor had left the two old islanders wrapped themselves in coats and scarves and made their way to the door. Well get our hands on those sex tourism dollars yet, Fergus said to his old crony as the founder members of the Uraigh Tourist Board headed off into the night and their solitary beds.


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Think you know your comedy? Win a


unique prize, a pdf pack of Gurmeet Mattus three Scottish comedy novels, The Stormer, The Sex Diaries and I, Roger Knightly, by answering the 10 easy questions in our Comedy Quiz. The

competition is open until December 31st 2011 and you can enter by clicking HERE. The winner will be selected from the collected correct answers and announced in the next issue. Editors decision is final and no correspondence will be entered into.

1. What were the stage names of the five Marx Brothers? 2. Who was Bertie Woosters butler? 3. What is Woody Allens real name? 4. Who starred as Borat? 5. Who did Bing Crosby make the Road films with? 6. Which came first, The Jerk or The Man With Two Brains? 7. Fill in the blanks for a book by Groucho Marx. Memoirs of A Mangy _ _ _ _ _? 8. Who played Al Bundy? 9. Where was Charlie Chaplin born? 10. What is Lucille Balls middle name?

WHAT READERS SAID The Stormer- Original, enjoyable and down to earth. Fun reading that doesnt take itself too seriously. The Sex Diaries- Funny, quirky and original. I, Roger Knightly- Terribly funny and great writing style!


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Raju, the Bengal tiger at Chicago Zoo has stopped eating meat and says he will only eat vegetables from now on. "It shows my concern for my nibbling on a Brussels sprout. new-age tiger. It's important the planet and meat rearing is Vegetables are much more playing havoc with my fellow life forms," Raju said, while "I suppose you could call me a that we maintain the ecology of very wasteful of our resources. eco-friendly, though they are carnivore gut. But honestly, the

only think I really miss is the thrill of the chase, because that's an inborn instinct with us cats. No more deer or wild pig for me, I'm afraid, and stalking a turnip just isn't the same."


Residents of Otago Place in the Vermont suburb of Lyon were shocked to see Mrs Ann Frisson kiss her husband in public yesterday. "She normally doesn't have a good word to say about him," said neighbour Brigitte Petain. "She called him a scum-sucking halfwit last week." Mr Gregor Frisson won the Euromillions Lottery last week.


Advice for the younger man by Norman Celibate.
You know how it is. If it's not your best friend's mom it's your mom's best fried. Older women, they're only after one thing. And it's your duty, as a nice young man, to make sure that they don't get it. It is their husband's duty to perform the function that they require of

you and you should feel under no obligation to satisfy their sordid needs. They will try many ploys to get you into their clutches, but the smart guy will be wise to their evil ways and avoid these traps. Some of their strategies include asking you to mow their lawn. This is particularly dangerous in warm weather as it may require you to remove your shirt. On no account should you remove any item of your clothing when within 100 yards of an older woman as this tends to drive them into a frenzy. Another ploy is to invite you into their house with the offer of refreshment. A beer may sound inviting, but your reputation is worth much more. Avoid also any chore which may require you to go upstairs in an older woman's house. While on the ground floor you have the safety of being observed through


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the living room window by a passerby; upstairs on the pretext of lifting a heavy box you are as vulnerable as a lamb in the middle of a pride of lions. An older woman standing helpless by the roadside also constitutes immense danger. The changing of her tyre will doubtless cause you to become rather covered with grime and the offer of a nearby bathroom to 'freshen' up, which will again involve the removal of clothing. The intelligent young man would rather go home covered in grease than be smeared with the make up of an older woman, no matter how expensive and pleasant smelling. Teachers are especially dangerous as they can offer their students higher grades in return for a night of pensioner passion, and rejecting them may be fraught with peril if your ambition lies towards the academic. As one can't refuse the teacher's offer with a simple statement of the truth, such as, 'You are old and fat and I would rather have a liaison with a hippopotamus' and similar insults, you must instead resort to blatant lies such as 'I respect you too much to do what you ask' or 'I am dying of an incurable disease'. On no account

use a line such as 'I am too young to satisfy your sophisticated needs' as this is what is turning them on in the first place. Other powerful older women that the young man must be wary of include policewomen and politicians. They are in predatory positions and cannot resist giving in to their instincts. The cop may offer to overlook small misdemeanours for certain favours. These favours will doubtless include handcuffing you to bedposts for nefarious purposes but can be avoided by claiming to have a contagious disease. Of course, if tasered into submission by said cop, the victim has no option but to surrender his virtue. The politician on the other hand is more likely to offer money or position as an inducement. But remember, at some point in the future you may have to tell your grandchildren that your success in life was down to one sweaty night in a hotel room wrestling with the Beast From Beyond. The thing is older women rarely look like Stifler's Mom (whose first name is Janine, by the way) they tend to look more like Stallone's Mom. And that, unfortunately, is a step too far.


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The Introduction and first chapter from the great mans autobiography.
Introduction Oh no, I hear you cry, dear reader, not another celebrity autobiography, replete with tales of a childhood of grinding poverty before stardom beckons you into its glittering embrace. Well, yes,

my story does have elements of that, but I have attempted to tell a truer story because all things are relative, and if my childhood was not totally blighted, it was at least different. My rise to superstardom too did not follow any normal course. Or at least not one that I have read about in my fellow celebs tales, for I too read such revelations voraciously. In the end run only you, dear readers, can be the judge of my story. As I began to write this I was reminded of the prologue to Dickie Attenboroughs masterwork Gandhi, which included some telling stuff such as No man's life can be encompassed in one telling... there is no way to give each event its allotted weight, to recount the deeds and sacrifices what can be done is to be faithful in spirit to the record of his journey, and to try to find one's way to the heart of the man... That is what I have strived for, despite a failing memory. Incidentally, didnt little Benny Kingsley give an abolutely scrumptious performance as Mrs Indira Gandhi, one which must surely rank with Dusty Hoffmann in Tootsie. In the end I want this little tale to convince you, dear reader, that I am a man, and not just a star. And so, to the story of my life. I take pen in hand, or rather I begin dictating to my secretary, Lily.

Roger Knightly St Moritz May 2005

Despite the fame and fortune I have accumulated as Roger Knightly, the finest thespian to come from Caledonias rocky shores, I am the first to admit that I come from humble roots. To be totally open with you, my father was a farter. Now, before you think Im being rude, let me explain. In the part of Scotland that I come from,

the western isles, there are many crofters. When and if they are lucky enough to be successful they expand their croft and become farmers. But between these two stations there is an area where one is neither really a farmer nor a crofter, one is a farter.


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We were, essentially, a family of farters, for we all worked the land with my father, harvesting potatoes, digging peats and molesting sheep. This last was, of course, a purely male occupation; no female of my family was ever convicted of unnatural practices with farm animals, though my aunt Morag was partial to a goat called Douglas. In the event there was insufficient evidence and all charges were dropped. But all tales must be told in their proper order, with a beginning, middle and an end and it is thoughtless of me to plunge in with such revelations before my credentials are established. Thus, I was born, Mungo McPerson, on the 21st of October 1955 to Ragnarok McPerson and his wife Olive in our humble fart on the island of Uiargh. Like many others my grandmother, Myfanwy, had come to Scotland from Wales during the Great Leek Famine of the 19th Century. At the age of sixteen she fled from famine and poverty in the valleys into the arms of my grandfather, Odysseus, who declared her a damn good ride for a Welshwoman and took She was such a good with six children, one of Olive. This was in their after which she her to wife. ride indeed that she provided him whom was my mother, first six years of marriage, promptly dropped dead, married her first love, Ivor, deserted for lack of leeks. In down Ivor and found him Lithuanian sailor, having taken after being rejected by

wishing still that shed whom she had

later years I tracked living up with a


Myfanwy. Of such things are On my fathers side were sterner stock. The

family tragedies born. McPersons of Uiargh had dressed

as women since the days of Bonnie Prince Charlie to prove their undying loyalty to the Jacobite cause. This would have caused no particular problem on Uiargh as many of the local men wore the kilt, but father preferred a full length, off-the-shoulder gown in cerise satin, which clashed horribly with his full red beard. However they made a handsome couple, Ragnarok and Olive McPerson with their brood of four children - my older twin brothers, Achilles and Hector, and my younger sister, Commanche - as they took them by the hand on a Saturday night to the pagan services at the local coven. How I loved those Black Masses, with the squawking of beheaded chickens, my mothers soft highland lilt uttering blasphemous curses and the overpowering stench of burning horseshit which they used as incense. They imbued in me a deep respect for all peoples beliefs. In retrospect I had an idyllic childhood for I had free run of the island and a host of similarly aged chums with which to indulge my taste for adventure. But life was, indeed, hard and required hours of back-breaking toil on the fart, but children will always find time to play, no matter what demands of homework or tiredness are made upon them.

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So it was my best friend, Toerag, and I would often leave our respective farts and head off into the hills with only a tin of beans and Toerags collie, Tallulah, for sustenance. By the time I became Toerags friend, Tallulah was already down to three legs after an ill-equipped camping expedition Toerag had carried out with his cousin, Horatio. Luckily, during my campaigns with Toerag we never had to resort to canophagia, as our stick-like frames could easily survive for twenty four hours on a spoonful of baked beans, and weeks before being sold for medical enquired further and discovered that she smoking and that the chief scientist of had managed to furnish his entire house Toerag was my best friend because I Though only 8 I had already proposed rejected because of my unusual sexual were totally aware of sex and Sister, I mounted her from behind as I had seen make funny faces at her behind her so Tallulah survived for many research. Again, in later years I had taken part in experiments on the laboratory she was sold to with Embassy coupons. was in love with his sister, Sister. marriage to Sister but had been demands. As farters children we being shy, was worried that when the fartyard animals do, I would back. Sister later became a

Buddhist nun and did missionary work among the Inuits of Alaska. Because of its geographical position Uiargh was always subject to Atlantic gales but my memories of those times are of endless summers, of running barefoot through the hills and glens, and of having my arse booted by my Dad when I failed to perform my daily chores. Thursday was

thrashing day in my family and my father was strict but fair, doling out his punishment in strict age order, so that by the time he came to me he was almost worn out and Commanche usually came out without a scratch. morning. Despite that, we knew that he loved us, and we looked forward to Friday nights when he would switch from his satin gown to more a comfortable mid-length cotton skirt and take us on his knee to tell us outrageous lies about our family heritage. According to him we were descended from a union between one of the lost tribes of Israel and aliens from Alpha Centauri one week, and the following the descendants of the Philippino catering staff on the Spanish Armada. Even as a child I was impressed by his creative turn of mind and encouraged him to write down these preposterous tales, but my father would stroke his thick beard, adjust his bra strap and inform me with a growl that Writing is for jessie boys, ma lad. For a long time I had no understanding of what a jessie boy was, but if my father did not approve of them, I was determined not to be one. This was difficult as his definition changed and expanded with the years, till finally estate agents, window cleaners, members of parliament, motorcycle mechanics, ice cream vendors, restaurant waiters, bank employees, tourist guides, librarians, chiropodists and members of the Ku Klux Klan were all stigmatised by being branded with the epithet. I have, however, kept my childhood vow and never adhered to any of the above perversions. Mothers bottom, however, was always well-bruised on a Friday


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My schooling was, to say the least, basic. There was only one small village school on Uiargh and this two miles from our fart. It was here that all of the islands twenty five young children were taught their lessons by Miss Laidlow. Daphne Laidlow was a spinster who had left the island years before to ply her trade as a prostitute in the wicked city of Glasgow, but once her charms had faded she had returned with her tail between her legs and done a correspondence course in corrupting young children with education. A tall, myopic woman, she was loved by everybody on the island, especially the young bachelors who knew she was willing to relive old memories on a Tuesday night for the price of an ounce of pipe tobacco. It wasnt much, but it was all she could afford. Despite this carnal outlook she was an excellent educator and was especially good with arithmetic where she would set us sums such as, If Sandra has 3 customers at 14/6d and Elaine has 8 at 12/11d, how much would the Madam get if she was taking a 40% commission? With other subjects she was less accomplished. Her history especially was appalling and for years I lived in the belief that Adolf Hitler was responsible for the Highland Clearances and Frank Sinatra had discovered America. Her geography was only slightly less poor and Icelands position adjacent to the Antarctic has yet to be confirmed. I wasnt a particularly studious child though I loved to read, which was a challenge as there were only three books on the entire island and two of these were Christian bibles. As a pagan I was forbidden to read these so that my total reading matter consisted of a battered copy of Sir Walter Scotts Ivanhoe which was missing the last few chapters. To this day I have never discovered what happened to Wilfred, Rebecca and Rowena. I could buy the book in an instant, of course, but some small part of me hopes that Wilf defies convention and marries Rebecca, and I am almost certain I would be disappointed. At that time, in the early 60s, we had no TV signal on Uiargh, so that news came to us only through the weekly delivery of newspapers or crackly radio signals, so we had no clear idea that a cultural revolution was taking place. My father travelled to the mainland once a year and would return with marvellous tales of inventions such as hovercraft and accomplishments such as spaceflight, but he was such a liar that everybody ignored him. It was during one of these excursions to the mainland, where hed gone to sell the produce wed grown on the fart that my father had his beard shaved off. He returned, a total stranger, and tried to kiss my mother who swiftly kneed him in the groin. As he writhed on the ground he looked up at her, his eyes full with tears and squeaked, Its me, Olive, your husband, Ragnarok. That youre not, replied my mother, standing with her hands on her hips, For my Ragnarok has a fine big bushy red beard. I had it shaved off, he explained, slowly regaining his breath. And why would that be? I just fancied a wee change. Well, I wish you hadnt. Whys that, my darling Olive?

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Because youre an ugly bastard. And that was that, my father threw away the fancy safety razor hed bought and regrew his beard. My mother, ever the economist, rescued the razor from the midden and used it to peel potatoes. These were, of course, part of our basic diet for every main meal consisted of either boiled potatoes and mutton or boiled potatoes and herring which were caught by my fathers brother, my uncle Odin, Morags husband, who had a small fishing boat and a wart on his willy which he liked to show everybody. Odin and Morag had a son, my older cousin Androcles, who I hated because he had

a bicycle. Well, actually, when I say he had a bicycle, it had no wheels and no frame, but Androcles had a wonderful set of handlebars and these allowed him to speed past me when we raced against each other. Androcles later emigrated to Brazil and became a training dummy for the sensational Brazilian football team which won the 1970 World Cup. I think this was one of the things that inspired me to believe that a man could outgrow his humble beginnings. My relationships with my siblings were better natured. As the youngest brother I could rely on the protection of Achilles and Hector when in trouble, though, in return, I was expected to provide a guardian shield to my sister, Commanche. This was no great deal and I became quite adept at skelping the wee lassies whod annoyed her. They, in turn, would call on their older brothers to deal with me and I, in turn, would call on my Greek heroes. If things went totally nuclear we could always call on Ragnarok because we knew that there was not a man on the island that was willing to face him in battle. When Ragnarok stripped off his satin gown to reveal his manly torso in suspender belt and stockings, grown men quivered. The games we played were those of the universal child - white slavery, biological experimentation, torture, voyeurism, sado-masochism - training ourselves, if only unknowingly, in the skills we would require in adulthood. The year that father shaved his beard off, Douglas, Aunty Morags goat died in suspicious circumstances and Morag accused her husband, Odin, of killing him in a jealous rage. All the islanders took sides, with the followers of Wicca taking the side of Douglas, for it was well known that goats had souls, whereas the heathen Christians took the side of Odin, claiming that he had only finished off the old billy for a bit of supper, though Odin himself assured everybody that the beast had committed suicide with a shotgun. Tempers were frayed and ugly words said and in the end a policeman from the mainland was called to prevent further violence. This was a P.C.

Woodward who spotted immediately that Morag had been madly in love with Douglas and that Odin had killed the goat. Through a complicated procedure of detection he ascertained that Odin had lost the affection of Morag due to his genital abnormality and resolved the entire problem by booking him in for wart removal at Oban General. This pleased everybody bar Odin who now had nothing to show people behind the barn.

This reconciliation didnt last long however and Morag left Odin to improve herself by becoming an Avon lady in Birmingham. Luckily she took Androcles with her and I no longer had to suffer

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 18

him and his damned handlebars. Odin married a Russian trawler captain of the female persuasion and emigrated to Moscow where he joined the KGB and trained their Fishing Division in advanced scoop net techniques. There was a bad harvest that year and Daphne Laidlow died, either of a broken heart or a broken back, I do not recall which, and it was this which must have put the thought into my mothers head. I discovered it by accident, having gone to bed one night, only to return to the landing for a glass of water to see my parents huddled conspiratorially round the warm glow of the peat fire. I knew instinctively that this was not for my ears and hunkered down to listen. There are men, my mother said, who hanker after the carnal embrace of a beast. It is only the foul Christian laws that forbid it, replied my father. A curse on them and their ten commandments. Yes, yes, but there are so many men in the big cities now who have no access to a pretty goat or an attractive sheep. Or an amorous pony. Or a randy Exactly. Whereas we have an pig. abundance of beasts on our fart. with this, Olive. They have brothels with whores to not be an animal whore-house for

I dont see where youre going Oh, its so obvious, Ragnarok. service men, why should there people who enjoy such things? It would be against the law, to serve a sentence. Not at all, it is only illegal for Do you think there would be a Maybe more than one, Ragnarok. Men have been and men do not change. Why are you blushing? Im not blushing, its the heat of the fire. Have you ever mounted a beast, Ragnarok McPerson? A beast? Olive? Never, never!

my father intoned, and we would have

human women to be selling their bodies. shilling in it? mounting beasts since the earliest of days

Its not against our faith, Ragnarok, youve no need to lie to me. Its not the faith that bothers me, Olive, just you thinking that I might cheat on you. You are very fond of Griselda. She is a handsome chicken, Olive, but theres a world of difference between admiring the looks of a hen and mounting it. Very well, I believe you, but if I ever find feathers in your panties therell be trouble. Anyway, what of my idea? Its magnificent, darling. We have so little to leave our children, for this fart divided four ways would amount to nothing, but with a bestial brothel we could make a fortune. My mother looked up in my direction, where I cowered behind the stairs, imagining myself to be invisible. You heard it here first, Mungo, now away to your bed.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 19


(Reviews from writers on the Authonomy (Harper Collins Publishers) website.

Helena: This is a very funny piece of writing. Keefieboy: Glorious Pythonesque insanity here. TheLoriC: This book has a delightful, amusing tone and pulls in the reader from the very first chapter. With its overall impressive writing and entertainment value, I, Roger Knightly will keep readers smiling and laughing right up until the book's final sentence. J&M JENSEN: Delightfully silly and irreverent piece of writing, but highly addictive. Clare Hill: This is hilarious and faintly disgusting in places, making me feel guilty for laughing. I love the bike with no frame - pair of handlebars, that's a classic! Johndan2: HAAAA! Reading this I had to go make popcorn and get a Pepsi for full entertainment value. Big mistake! I laughed and blew Pepsi out my nose. What a natural storyteller!" Sperber1: What I like is that the comedy comes from the characters, rather than just being one-liners or gags. A lot of imagination. Lj Trafford: Personally I loved this. It made me smile, it made me laugh, it made me choke on my cup of tea a wee bit. It reminded me of the alternative versions of books that Spike Milligan wrote, Frankenstein etc. Yes it's filthy. But it's funny. And the two I often find go together. Mikegilli: First place on my shelf. I've checked out 1000 books, but this is BY FAR the funniest. I'm stuck here in a library. They frown as I giggle.

How did a pagan laddie from the Western Isles of Scotland, Mungo McPerson, become one of the worlds best-loved actors, Roger Knightly? Join him on his rise to stardom and meet his agent, the legendary Cloudy Howitzer and his high-kicking wife, Fizzy. Discover how his first girlfriend, Felicity Sidesaddle, broke his heart. Learn about his physical disability that made women faint. And how about his first wife, Dazzle Dubrovnik and her telepathic twin, Razzle? Vitally, read about the acting secrets that brought him fame and fortune.

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Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 20


Taint easy being a village idiot, specially if ones not as foolish as one hopes others think you are. Its a constant battle of wits, really. Me trying to convince them others that I really am as stupid as they think I am. One slip could betray me, one shred of common sense could be my undoing. So, how is it, you may ask, that a fellow like myself, who can read and write and even count past 100, comes to be the official village idiot of the fine hamlet of Throville? Well, theres a tale, you see, and Ill tell thee too, if you promises to keep it quiet. It happened like this, see. I were around 11 years old and smart a lad as could be found round the Fenlands. The village idiot then was Old Codger and he were a legend. No-one could match him for falling over his own two feet or forgetting an errand between the big barn and the well, a distance of only 12 yards, let me tell you. We young uns used to have a fine old time, following him around and shouting abuse at him. It werent with no ill will, for we loved him really, and he took it with a wide grin and a shrug of his shoulders. He never wanted, did Old Codger, not for a roof over his head or a bite to eat and when the Barley Wars came and all the men had to march off to help Baron Ilsley, Old Codger wasnt in the vanguard. No, nor in the rearguard neither. He was tucked up, happy as a horsefly, in the barn and eating buttered bannocks. as It was that what started me thinking, especially when so many of the menfolk came back with busted heads and broken legs, that it couldnt be that bad being a village idiot. Now, dont get me wrong, I wasnt no coward, but I knew that winning the Barley Wars (which we did) would do the good people of Throville no good at all, so why did we fight for the Baron to raise his taxes that way. Give me a cause and Ill fight, I thought to myself, but Im dammt if Im going to put my neck on the line sos the Baron can sup rich wine in his castle. And while the men were in the fields, the sweat glistening on their backs, and the women were aspinning or kneading dough and suchlike, Old Codger would be down by the pond, playing with the ducks. It seemed like a fine life to me and I decided I should like to be a village idiot and live a life of ease and luxury, thats how smart I was. Course, it werent easy. Up till then Id been regarded by all as quite the scholar and now I had to find a way to convince my kinfolks I was a dimwit. I did it by accidentally falling down the well, or rather staging a fall down the well. I gave myself a few cuts, bruises and scrapes before I went down, especially on my poor old head, but when I came up, rescued by Arfie the Alchemist, my wits had totally deserted me. I was, I am proud to say, as daft as a brush. After that it was only a case of remembering to act as foolishly as possible at any and every

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 21

occasion. This, you might think, would be easy,

village idiots, and the general hilarity they could

but take it from me, tisnt simple for a wise man bring, in those days, and some folks reckoned to act the fool when every mans inclination is to show his wisdom. But pretty soon every one in the village was regarding me with affection and chuckling Aye, Old Codgers got an apprentice. they could be bred, just like cattle. Pair up two village idiots and the offspring was bound to be fools, was the thinking. And if there was a nice size brood they could be sold off for a profit to

My parents werent too minded for neighbouring villages when they reached their maturity, so village idiots was encouraged to take a bride. I was lucky with Doolally, for though she was as stupid as a square wheel she was a fine looking lass and I had no disinclination to start a family with her. Problem was my books. I had a passion for reading, though I knew that knowledge could be my downfall. Id kept a secret stash ever since Id decided to become an idiot and only read them when there was no-one else around. So, it came as a great surprise when I came home one day, fresh from falling in the pond, and

I had two older brothers to help on the farm and if the whole village was feeding me it was one less mouth for them to feed. The lads what I played with didnt mind none neither, for our pastimes was rassling and suchlike and not quizzing each other on the capital of Mondovia or what princess was it ran off with Duke Ferdinand ere the Brown Plague struck. And an idiot can rassle just as good as a genius on any given day of the week. Soon, it was generally accepted that when Old Codger went to meet his Mocker I would take over the position of village idiot of Throville.

For the village elders this was a boon, for village found Doolally with her nose in The History of idiots were scarce in them days and could command quite a price. It was said that the folks of Bullton had paid a tenth of their annual harvest to Tilford for their village idiot, Spittle, as a sort of transfer fee. It was, of course, common knowledge that a village idiot brought good luck to whereer he resided, but one tenth of a harvest? Course, Spittle could be an idiot the Eleven Kingdoms. What be you doing? I asked her. She looked up at me and there was a look in her eye which made my poor foolish heart sink. Im perusing your library, she said and it took me a moment to realise that she shouldnt know a word such as peruse. This History is full of basic errors, she

in several different languages, him being foreign continued, King Byron never banished the born, so the price was bound to be high. So there, Ive told you my secret and theres only one other person knows it and thats my wife, Doolally. As you know all village idiot marriages is arranged as you couldnt expect a village idiot to do much in the way of courting by himself. But, as Ive said, there was a great demand for Pergians till after the Great Divide. Youre no idiot, I said to her, not sure whether I should be angry or not. And neither are you, she replied, Do you think youre the only one with the wisdom to be a jester? And not realising that was possibly the most foolish thing I ever done.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 22

FROST: Hello, good evening and welcome and thank you for allowing us your time, Herr Chancellor. HITLER: You are velcome, you English schwein. FROST: Now, what I'd like to talk to you about this evening is your relationship with your niece, Geli. The so-called Geligate. HITLER: It is all lies. I am innocent. I have an alibi, and also I vas not there, not even slightly. FROST: Well, if we could just get the facts straight. Is it true you had a relationship with your niece, Angela Raubal? HITLER: Of course we had a relationship, you dumpkopf, I vos her onkle. FROST: An unhealthy relationship? HITLER: Mein healthy is fine. FROST: And yet we have drawings, made by you, of your niece which may lead to conjecture.. HITLER: Forgeries! Geli had a very pimply bottom und in these drawings there is no pimplies. FROST: And you had nothing to do with Geli's death. HITLER: It was suicide! And an accident! The police report said so. Ze German police do not make ze mistakes. Not unless they are ordered to. Ve Germans always obey orders. FROST: And her death did not affect you and turn you into a murderous dictator with a lust for world domination. HITLER: Nein, nein. Zis I always had. It vos one of my most attractive features. Zat und mein moustache. FROST: Let me put it to you bluntly, did you do the naughty with your niece, Geli Raubal? HITLER: Categorically I can say, nein. Not in ze vay you are thinking ze sexy. FROST: So the rumours of your peculiar sexual practices are true? HITLER: Peculiar? Not vere I come from, Frostie baby. FROST: Did you force her to perform these unnatural acts? HITLER: She needed guidance. Vot vas I to do? FROST: And that did not break your moral code, if you had one? HITLER: Of course I have a moral code. I bought it in a shop. It is good quality. Made in Germany. FROST: And it was not your pistol that Geli shot herself with? HITLER: I can not be held responsible for zis. I had a very unhappy childhood. FROST: Has this affected your relationship with women in general? HITLER: Nein, I am not interested in vomen. Or in men either! That incident mit Goebels was an accident and I didnt mean to bite.. FROST: Thank you, Herr Chancellor, you have confirmed your insanity satisfactorily.

HITLER: My pleasure, you schwein. Heil, me!


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 23


Sorry if Im talking quietly, but were not supposed to use the companys phones for private business.


No, hes too old for that, he must be over 40. Mind you, his screensavers a supermodel in a bikini.


Hey you, careful you dont get the sack, youve only just started that job.


My mom says they never get too old, its in their genes.


But this isnt private business, its pleasure.


He doesnt wear jeans, least not to work, just an old suit thats seen better days. Youd think his wife would at least get it dry-cleaned now and again.


You mean its a pleasure to talk to me, thats real sweet.


Youre my best pal, Jules, of course its a pleasure. JULIE:

Oh, hes got a wife? Theyre the worst sort.


So, who is it youre working for? Frobisher & Crutch, they make ball bearings. But Mr Crutch died when he fell into a finishing machine. Certainly did its job, finished him off. Theres a plaque in his memory in the foyer. JULIE: SHARON: SHARON:

She came round to the office last week, tiny slip of a woman. He was all over her like a rash, calling her my darling and kissing her hand. I cant stand men like that, creeps. He reckons its romantic. Said, Youll note, Miss Murphy, that the spirit of romance still exists between my wife and I, even though weve been married for over 15 years. Then he adjusted his pants again.


Plaque? Yuch, thats the stuff on your teeth, right?


No, this is a different one. It says, In memory of Reginald Crutch, who gave his life for ball bearings.


So, hows the job anyway? Its alright. My boss is like that teacher we used to have, always adjusting his pants. His names Mr Scrutton and you can imagine what I call him. JULIE: SHARON:

Any good looking guys? Havent met anybody supersmashing yet, but theres a few I wouldnt mid getting into the stationery cupboard.


No. Julie! Anyway, hes got a 36 inside leg. How do you know that? He told me. Hes real proud of it. Its his major claim to fame, the big skinny ratbag, fiddling with his pants. SHARON: JULIE:

Thats my Sharon! The men of the world have no chance when Julie and Sharon are on the rampage. Help, here comes Scrotum, Ill need to go. See you later, pal.


Sounds like a pervo.


Ill text you when I get home, just to catch up.


Capricorn - December 22- January 20 You will meet a tall man. Do not trust him as he is lying to you about his height. Wear blue at all times unless you have had cereal for breakfast. Do not whistle in the afternoon.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 24

Aquarius - January 21 February 19 Nothing will happen for you this month.

Pisces - February 20 March 20 Dont be afraid of chickens, even if they feature large in your dreams. Wear two sweaters on Wednesdays if your name is George. Tell lies to people called Colin.

Aries - March 21- April 20 Beware of women with buck teeth. Your future looks good if you gamble all your money on a horse called Nostradamuss Hat. Avoid trains.

Taurus - April 21- May 21 Your addiction to television is causing you health problems. Have someone else deliver them. Your niece hates you and you should buy stocks in the Canberra Hot Air Balloon Co.

Gemini - May 21- June 21 Your dreams, filthy though they are, are about to come true. Her name is Evadne and you will meet her in a dockside bar where she will be surrounded by sailors. Do not marry her. Leo - July 24 August 23 Those aches and pains are really taking their toll on you, arent they, Leo? This is the result of you avoiding people called Ralph. Not all Ralphs are after your money. Not even your brother in law. Libra - September 24- October 23 Oh, Libra, you are in a jam. The stars dont really hold much promise for you this month. Why not have a nice, long, sleep and just let it slip by?

Cancer - June 22 July 23 Have you been drinking excessively? If not, why not? I get pissed every Wednesday and twice at the weekend. Its Bacardi, since you ask and, yes, I will have a large one.

Virgo - August 24 September 23 The predictions I made for you last month were incorrect due to flaws in my starcharts. The Lottery win is due this month, along with the satin sheath dress and the invitation to drinks with Bob. Scorpio - October 24 November 22 You will meet a beautiful woman who you will be besotted with, but who will reject you. Get your revenge in first and tell her to beat it. Her name is Helen. VISIT AMOCKS WEBSITE

Sagittarius - November 23 December 21 The time has come for you to shape up and face the future. Then again, if you dont feel like it, thats okay.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 25


Admittedly, as of this date, we have only reached the moon, but the time will inevitably come when man will venture further into space and encounter alien species. If these alien species are similar to ourselves in being divided into male and female there will no doubt arise the situation where a human male feels attracted to an alien female. But with no experience of alien women our space-faring Lothario will be at a severe disadvantage in attempting seduction unless, that is, he reads this instructional article and follows the advice herein. The first thing you must ensure is to make your potential mate feel comfortable. You can begin by changing your name to Zob as this is a common name among many alien species and comparable to our Terran Joe. Then, as Zob, you must understand that we humans have a very poor sense of smell by comparison with our alien cousins but as you wish to make your paramour feel comfortable you must be prepared to give her a good sniff and allow her to reciprocate. Allow a few weeks for this to appreciate the full effect and of course no bathing is permitted while you enjoy each other's pheromones. The Vandusians, with difficult. Their tusks too are not really compatible with human anatomy. In a human relationship you would now be looking forward to that first kiss with your beloved, but many alien species regard mouth to mouth contact as not only disgusting but as a declaration of war. You must, therefore, proceed with caution. The kiss after all is only a form of greeting, much like the Faroodi elbow rubbing ritual. They, of course, have greater scope to enjoy this, having seven elbows. On each torso. Human mating rituals would then proceed with a 'date'. This could be a visit to a bar, a restaurant, the cinema, theatre or art gallery. Avoid these like the plague if attracted to a Wermyn lady. Their idea of a good night out is pro-celebrity owl strangling, though their owls average ten feet in height. Talsan females, on the other hand, like nothing better than lying in a hot bath. Not up to the neck, of course, but over the head. It helps that they are aquatic. This should not deter you, as finding a love gift for such a

their smell of turtle soup, are quite acceptable, though the cheesy smelling Durit can be


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 26

lady is simplicity itself, knowing their propensity for fresh fish. Once these preliminary mating rituals are completed you would normally, with a human female, expect to move on to more similar bodily exploration. Most than most, though it has been searching your skin for the fleas their diet. After feasting on you intimate forms of hand to hand combat and species enjoy this, the Velderon more suggested that they are actually and ticks with which they augment they will have an insatiable thirst for have an adequate supply. delicate sensibilities, will not venture human/alien mating process but a manual

stoat juice, so do ensure that you This article, being written by one of into the actual mechanics of the

on this will no doubt be available shortly as a download from the NASA website. On a final note I must remind you amorous astronauts that alien women are notorious for not respecting you in the morning, so dont expect a call.


Rock God, Phil Eardrum, lead guitarist with The Nostrils, and a man who has been declared clinically dead twice, is to stand for President at the next elections on a fascist platform. I got the idea from a book about camping, man, he said in his penthouse flat in LA last night. The fascist thing is all about picking on a minority and blaming then for all of societys problems. So, Ive decided that its bloody pygmy Eskimos that are responsible for all our ills and should be persecuted. He was ready for the argument that pygmy Eskimos were remarkable for being relatively unknown, far less as the engines of our destruction. Theyre masters of disguise, see. They learn it at their mothers knee and its ingrained in them. that tray of vol au vents, or that car out on the street, the blue Audi, not the Honda.



They take our jobs and our women and eat blubber. Lots of blubber. When did you last see any blubber? See, the bloody pygmy Eskimos have got it all, so we dont get none. They plan to bring the world to its knees by cornering the worlds supply of blubber and its down to us to stop them. If you think you spot a pygmy Eskimo, even if hes disguised as a small boulder, you go and give him a good kicking. We need to reclaim our country and our heritage. And our blubber.

Eardrum also claimed that his last stay at a rehab clinic (his nineteenth) had finally cured him of his addiction to psychedelic drugs. Its nothing but blubber for me from now on, man, he said before sweeping off to his next gig with his entourage of

Theyre everywhere and we dont know about about it. blonde dentists. They cant disguise themselves as That chair there, that could be a pygmy Eskimo, or blonde dentists, everybody knows that.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 27

SUBMISSIONS We are currently looking for submissions for the monthly version of Amock, both textual and graphic. So if you think youve got the ability to make our readers howl with laughter click HERE to visit our website and see our submission guidelines and submit. Read the magazine to ensure you know our style. Anything we use will be paid for. We look forward to seeing your best work.



Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 29

This is how it happened. Old Ravi Patel was old-fashioned and wanted his son, Dav, to follow tradition, so he went to him and said, Dav, I want you to marry the girl I choose for you. But Dav was young and hip and believed in marrying for love, rather than following his old mans orders. So, he replied, No way, dad. Old Ravi hadnt become a wise old man by sitting on his ass. Shes Bill Gates daughter, he told Dav. Dav was astonished. Bill Gatess daughter? She must be loaded! Oh, right, sure, Ill marry her. So, Old Ravi went to see Gates and said to him, I want your daughter to marry my son. Gates didnt know Old Ravi from Sinbad so, naturally, he replied, No way, man. Old Ravi grinned. Hes the CEO of the World Bank Gates eyes widened. Oh, okay, he can marry her.

Then Old Ravi visited the World Bank and went to see their HR department. I want you to make my son the CEO of the World Bank, he said to them. The Chief Recruitment Officer just laughed. No way! Hes Bill Gates son-in-law, Old Ravi said. And the Chief recruitment Officer swallowed hard and said, Oh, in that case, no problem. And that, my friends, is how arranged marriages work.


The iceberg which sank the Titanic has been found guilty of manslaughter at the International Court of Justice. This follows the lengthy search for the berg, which was finally identified by paint from the Titanics hull found on its surface. It committed a monstrous crime which resulted in the death of over 1,500 innocent people, said prosecutor, Ron Litigation, and it must be punished. I am going for the death penalty. Entrepreneur, Alf Shady, has already staked a claim to the berg as a descendant of one of the victims. He plans to melt the huge block of ice and sell it off in bottles as souvenirs. Its what my Gran would have wanted, he sobbed.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 30

Basketball legend, Jerome J Jumpjet, is giving up the court and taking to the soccer pitch. It must be easier, he claimed, Theres no hoop, just a huge big net that nobody could miss. My stats will go way up. Jumpjet accepts that his handling skills wont be brought into play and has been putting his feet through special training sessions to bring them up to the mark, but he still hopes he can bring his height into play. I seen those soccer players jump and it seems they can only score by hitting the ball into the net with their head. I know it sounds crazy but I think I can do it. Ive been jumping up and heading lamp posts by way of practice. Though unsigned Jumpjet hopes to start his soccer career in Brazil, though he denies that the female Brazilian fans he saw on TV at the last World Cup had anything to do with his decision. That would be shallow, he added, and I am not shallow. I am 7 10.


Barrack Obama's aunt, Mamie Obama, says she is embarrassed by her nephew's choice of career. "He is a crazy man," said the Obama Snr, "President of the job is that for a smart black stupid white man like the aimed high, being a boxer like like Stevie Wonder. But politics ambitious black man. It's all Mandolin in South Africa. Him turned my Barry's head." A spokesperson for the U.S. confirmed that Obama had sports and music, as well as a had turned them down. "We garbage disposal because he was half white," he added. "That fool nephew of mine needs to come to his senses," continued Mamie, "If he was so set on being a Prez, why didn't he pick something more in keeping with his heritage. He could of been President of a gospel choir or war chief of a Bantu tribe. That's a job comes with goat privileges. And many meaty wives, not like that scrawny Michelle who aint never ate mealie."

Kenyan sister of Barrack United States? What kind of man? That is a job for a Dubya. Barry should have Muhammad Ali, or a pop star is no kind of a job for an the fault of that Nelson being Prez in his country has

Dept.of Racial Stereotypes been offered posts in both drug dealer and as a pimp but deliberately didn't offer him

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 31

Opinion by Dr. Hiram Loveless

I know youre fed up to the back teeth with hearing about global warming, but I have amazing new evidence that it is caused by sex.

But first the science behind my conclusions. You are no doubt aware that when you rub two items together you create friction and therefore heat. So, obviously, when you rub two humans together you create an incredible amount of heat. And, lets face it, there are millions of people every day who are rubbing aginst each other and the amount of heat created is enormous. Some sex addicts are doing it two or three times a day and thats just a prescription for suicide, because every sexual act is raising the temperature by a fraction of a degree. And millions of fractions of a degree make a lot!

The thing is, blasting out just like a

when youre having sex, your metabolism is racing and your body is like a small furnace, heat. And when your activities reach their natural conclusion, well, thats firework going off.

Some her husband Oh, and orgies are people going at it hammer and tongs.

important facts to consider. Illicit sex is a definite no-no, especially if is nearby, because you create even more heat when youre nervous. definitely out. You could cook a steak pie with the heat coming off ten

Positions are important too. Missionary is reflects how much heat you radiate too. If Im not suggesting you go after the less right. Try to avoid hot babes as every time loses five minutes of its life.

cool, but doggy is hot. Your choice of partner youre hot for a woman, you probably will be. attractive, but average to pretty is usually about one of them growls seductively the planet

You see its not just friction that causes the rise in temperature, you also have to take account of the excitement factor. This means that sex with a wife youve been married to for five years rates about 1, whereas sex with a mistress is worth at least a 5 and sex with Charlize Theron is going to take you way up to 1,580.

So, the message should be that by cutting down on the amount of sex we have we are saving the planet. Luckily, there is a way for you to get some sexual pleasure without destroying the environment. It doesnt involve recycling or cutting carbon emissions, just having sex in a bath of cold water. Your heat will be transferred to the water and will can also take the bath water cup of tea. And lets face it, youll

not affect the global temperature. You youve just heated up and make a nice need it after your exertions.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 32

Were sure you know that theres no such thing as a free lunch and that things which are free are usually worthless. Were not free, but we give you the chance to decide what were worth. If you dont support us, Amock wont get much beyond the first issue. So, if you enjoyed our particular brand of nonsense and can afford it, do encourage us to continue by making a donation. Thanks.

I am a tight-fisted skinflint and do not appreciate the time and effort that goes into creating Amock. Of course Im not paying for it, and I hope you die of starvation. Uh, sorry, Im a bit short this month. My goldfish got run over by a truck and I had to take it to the vet. I truly appreciate the belly laughs Amock gives me and would like to buy you guys a drink.


You will be contacted by our colleague, Muscles Malone, who wishes to have a brief chat with you. Please ensure your life insurance policy is up to date.




I am the love child of Bill Gates and Mother Teresa. My philanthropy knows no bounds and it pleases me greatly to reward you for your efforts.


If youd like to donate any other amount please use the Donate button on the website page where you downloaded Amock.


Id confront you in a battle of wits, but I refuse to fight the unarmed.

How to kill your grandmother while moving house. Mouthwash. Why? The future of underwear. Cooking - The Myths. Your first robot. Nigerian Scam Secrets More ON COMPANY TIME Fruitbats - The next food fad? So dont forget to visit to download more Amock from the Magazine section.


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Mrs Olivia Benson is due to give birth to a baby thought werent her fault. Those aliens has powers no human to be of alien origin, as she claims to have been made being can resist. pregnant by a visitor from Alpha Centauri called Bob. Despite his Terran-sounding name, Mrs Benson insists that he was an alien. He had two heads, thats what made me suspicious, she explained in her southern Arizona home last night. And he smelled of gasoline too. I never met a human guy had two heads and smelled of gasoline. I only went to the bar that night because I had an argument with my husband, and this alien used his mind-control techniques to talk me into He is my child and he will be loved, insisted the mother-to-be. Bert and I The Bensons plan to call the child Spock, no matter what sex it is, or even if it has no gender at all.

couldnt have kids because of his accident, so in a way this is a God-send. Doubts were, however, cast on Mrs Bensons version of events. Olivia was drunker than a duke in a distillery that night,

going round the back alley with him. Thats where he said bar owner Harry Potts. And the only other person had his flying saucer parked, though it was disguised in the bar was Bob Peterson. He works in a gas station as a pick-up truck. Mrs Benson is due to give birth to the human-alien hybrid child in four weeks and the imminent arrival has sparked intense media interest. We got a comic book deal and the movie rights are up for grabs, said Mr Bert Benson who runs a toaster and he drives a pick-up. Oh, and I asked him to take his brothers motorcycle helmet over to his place cause he left it here the previous night. Thats horse manure, responded Bert, Bob Peterson aint got no mind control powers, and thats the only way anyone could get round my loving and faithful wife.

repair franchise. Of course Im standing by her. It Mr Peterson was not available for comment.



Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 34


Hello, my good friends, my name is Nbandi Tstotsewe, and I am the holder of a master's degree in Internet Scamming from the Univeristy of Abuja, Nigeria. In this brief article I hope to teach you how you too can become an Internet Scammer and generate a healthy income for yourself. This is not a difficult process for learning as you must realising that though you are stupid many, many people are more stupid than you. The first requirement is a computer with an internet connection. This is most vital as shouting about your scam, even from the top of your house, will not reach enough people to make your venture profitable. Your aim with this scam is to obtain people's banking details and for this you must rely on people's greed. Now, we both know that all people are greedy. I am extremely greedy and my wife can eat many oxen at a single sitting, so you can see how greedy she is. Therefore we must be relying on people's greed to obtain the banking details we want. In this instance I am adopting the pose of Mrs Wendy Mobeety, widow of Tembo Mobeety, ex-manager of International Finance at the Bank of Nigeria. I should make it plainly at this point that I am not actually Mrs Wendy and that the police charges regarding me wearing women's clothing last Friday were a set-up. I email you, telling you that my late Finance and that as his widow you are trying to get your hands on it. However the authorities suspect you and you must transfer the money to an overseas account so that it can be accessed. If you will give me your bank details I will transfer the complete amount to your account and you will then remit seventy million to me, leaving you with a profit of ten million dollars. Are you seeing? I have appealed to your greed. Who would refuse $10,000,000 for nothing? Also, you are thinking, once I have the eighty million in my bank account the widow Wendy can go on holiday for all I care. How then can the scammer make any use of the information he has obtained from you. The answer is simpleness itself, with the bank details he has from you he can remove every penny you have from your account. On no account must he actually try to transfer $80,000,000 into anybody's account. This is against the very spirit of the scam and may lead to you losing your membership of our professional association. It also helps if you have a very poor commandment of the English language. Now, you may wonder why I am passing this vital information to you for free of charge. The answer is that, having explained the entire proceduring to you, you will trust me implicitly and will have no hesitation in passing your bank details to me as I have fraudulently

husband mislaid eighty million US dollars into a obtained $43 billion from the Nigerian space separate account while managing International programme (Chief Executive - James T. Kirk)


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 35

and have it lying in an offshore account where I cannot access it directly. It must go through a third party and I am willing to give you $10 billion if you will launder this immense amount for me. Imagine, with this amount you could

If you wash your car more than once a week it will shrink. The miracle of the moving cheese of San Fredo, has been proved to be a fraud following the discovery nearby of a nest of particularly muscular mice. The Japanese have admitted that kamikaze does not mean divine wind as they have been claiming since WWII. It actually means stupid bastard. Oliver Reed once bench pressed Orson Welles. Oil well fires can be put out with ice cream. Left-handed blondes frequently marry men called Kevin. The Latvian army can march backwards. Hanging with a bungee cord was rejected as a method of execution by the New Zealand Supreme Court.

buy your wife, Denise, a new kitchen gadget such as an atomic blender, bribe your son, Tom, through college, and get your daughter, Cindy, a healthy young pop star of her very own. Such an offer is not to be sniffled at.

Extracted from The Complete Book of Lies by Professor Ed Spurious.

Sarah Palin once tried to shoot a moose with a lipstick. Horace Pendlebury patented the underwater hovercraft in 1932. The French National Anthem cannot be played backwards. Coating a horse in chocolate is a capital offence in Tasmania. Being flatulent is a great help in hang-gliding. Belgian prostitute Brenda Dulays mobile sex service, Feels On Wheels has won a new business initiative award. Leopards have no taste buds. Sylvester Stallone likes to bake cakes, especially sponges. Dudley Moore went on a 10 year bender to prepare for the role of Arthur. Josef Stalin could fart and burp at the same time. Margaret Thatcher had her feminine side surgically removed. George W. Bush was a chess grand master. Eating too much toast can give you malaria. Gillette will launch the 10 blade razor this year.

The password to enter the Pentagon on the 4th of July 1982 was Enema. Because of the weight of its population the US sinks into the Earths crust by 3 mm every year. The favourite name for dogs in New Zealand is Nancy. Franciscan monks have a very poor sense of balance. Robin Hood was the hide-and-seek champion of Sherwood Forest for three years running. The best selling national newspaper in Uganda is called the Daily Newspaper. One of the bodies of the Roswell aliens was eaten by a local who thought it was road-kill. Transvestites can travel for free on public transport in Adelaide, Australia. Humphrey Bogart collected boomerangs. Ukrainian men are required by law to grow a moustache at some point in their life. Hangovers can be cured with torture. Many circus bearded ladies are lesbians. Jack the Ripper is a registered trademark.


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There is no doubt that you will enjoy owning your first domestic robot. You will love it, your wife will love it and your kids will love it. Your dog will hate it.

external cleanliness and this will require you to hose it down in the garden at least once a week. Be careful, as it is not totally waterproof. Alternatively it can be ordered to visit the local car wash on a regular basis,

The thing is, dogs dont understand robots. They look and act like humans, but dont smell like them.

though do remember to give it only enough cash for a basic wash as waxing and polishing are not really

They smell like a cross between your car and your PC necessary. and this is confusing to the canine brain. But do not despair. Your dog will not live for much longer than 12 years, whereas your robot will probably outlast your grandchildren. On the culinary front the machine is adequate rather than inspired. It can indeed be programmed with every meal recipe known to man, as the advertising states, but its cooking style is mechanical to The multi-purpose, domestic robot is of course extremely versatile and will come pre-programmed with various domestic chores such as cooking and cleaning. Additional software can be bought which will enable it to perform tasks such as car and home maintenance. The childrens entertainment package is, however, flawed, as any order to walk a tightrope in the garden will prove. This is not to say that your machine is inherently unstable, and its awkward walk can easily be compared to Buddy coming home after eight beers. The sports model is of course ideal for the health conscious family. There is no better golfing partner as it has no qualms about carrying everyones clubs in a foursome. With its laser guided vision, lost balls are also a thing of the past. At tennis too it is unbeatable. This is literally true; The voice recognition software is also not perfected. A slurred command to boil an egg can lead to the poor machine searching for a neck to boil. Orders should be given clearly and succinctly with no prospect of ambiguity. For instance, Go away is not a command you should give your unit, as it is likely that it will next be spotted in Mongolia. unless you adjust its upper body strength it will serve a succession of aces that will destroy you. It is in the pool, however, that the machine is finally beaten. Your domestic robot is not buoyant and will sink like a stone. The children may find this amusing, but it will cost you thousands of dollars to winch the unit from the bottom of the pool and have it professionally dried out. Your wifes hair dryer will not do the job. The manufacturers have, surprisingly, not included any software to allow the machine to maintain its own It must also be said that the robot has absolutely no interest in your naked body or its functions. If it has a

say the least. Without taste buds it has no way of judging a dish and one small error in its onboard recipe database can lead to a very salty meringue.

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task to perform it will march into the bathroom no matter what you are doing. Locking the door will not stop a machine capable of demolishing your house. Its priority is to fulfil its task. Your youngest son will, of course, delight in telling the machine to bring something from the bathroom when your teenage daughter is in the shower, leading to consequent shrieks, but recall that the robot can also be programmed to discipline children. It is of course unable to physically harm, but your son will find it uncomfortable to find the unit standing at the school gates waiting for him with a set of baby reins.


Legendary fire breather, George Hobson, better known as The Great Inferno, has left his wife, Merilyn, claiming that she did not really love him. She used me, George complained bitterly from the motel where he I suspected is currently staying. At first shed but found that

another man, didnt seem as shes no b e a u t y . though she might have

plausible r a v i n g Then married I me

Most families give their robot a pet name almost immediately, with Robbie being the favourite name by a long chalk. This is perfectly acceptable as long as the men of the house, Robert and Bobby Jr., have no objections. Heres a FREE 30 Day Money Back Guarantee for our readers. Were not selling anything and it doesnt apply to anything, we just thought you might find it useful.

for my fame and fortune, but she comes from a wealthy family so that seemed unlikely. It was only when I came across some of her diaries from when we were courting that I realised the truth. That no-good bitch married me just so I could light her damn barbecues. In fact, why not have two? Now youve got peace of mind for 60 days.


Hollywood actress, Angelinica Hott-Stuff, plans to raise asses for the past year to try and get a part my lips arent money for charity by selling bottles of her bath water on Ebay. "It's for the children," she said at a press conference yesterday. "Those poor kids, trapped in a hurricane with famine, an in good shape. And unhygienic too. Then I thought about selling my uneaten dinners, but that wouldn't raise much as I was taught to clear my plate. The bath water idea came to me while I was lying in the tub and it just seemed perfect. I have three baths a day, ever since sweet Johnny Dipp told me I was stinking, and putting it into 250ml bottles should mean there's quite a lot to sell for the poor children who have so recently lost a limb and been orphaned while fleeing a meteorite collision in a minefield. I expect bidding to start at $1,000 and who knows how high it can go. Its what every

earthquake and an epidemic, it makes your heart bleed." Ms Hott-Stuff, who has not appeared in a hit film for several years, went on to explain how she had come up with her moneyraining scheme. "At first I was going to let the fans kiss me to raise money, but as Ive been kissing producers

Angelica Hott-Stuff fan wants."

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First, look like this.

Then, change to this.

Now, convert to this.

Finally, become this.

Professor Pete gives you indispensable advice on all Dear Colin, your problems. I wouldnt call this a folk tale, more an urban myth as it Dear Pete, did not become current till the 1950s when dentists My friend has told me that scrambled eggs can be formed their professional organisations tasked with dangerous if eaten to excess. This worries me as they promoting their sadistic trade. Extensive research has are a favourite of my husband. Is there any truth in this? proven that telling lies does not make your teeth fall out, Betty Pitman, Birnley though your hair is liable to start disappearing if you tell Dear Betty, To my knowledge no-one has ever been harmed through eating scrambled eggs apart from Terry Bogger who tripped over a bowl and struck his head against a bread knife. Even then he only suffered slight cuts and lived a full and productive life. Scrambled eggs were even regarded as having medicinal properties by the ancient Incas though some historians have suggested this was due to intensive lobbying by their Egg Marketing Board. I wouldnt recommend eating them all day, or indeed every day, but the odd egg scrambled on toast can do no harm of a morning. Professor Pete Dear Professor, Is there any truth in the folk tale that telling lies will make your teeth fall out? Professor Pete Colin, Kansas

too many whoppers. Professor Pete Dear Prof, I am aged 9 and have a girlfriend. I have kissed her 6 times. How many times can I kiss her before I have to marry her? I like kissing her but dont think Im ready for marriage yet. Bill, Sunderland Dear Bill, Youre a brave little chap, admitting you have a girlfriend and even that you kiss her. According to the laws of England you can kiss her 18 times before you have to propose, but she has the right to refuse, especially if youre rubbish at it. After 32 all bets are off.

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Big Joe MacLean had named his pub The Ardent Hedonist because he hadnt a clue what it meant. It was suggested to him by a friend and, rather than admit his ignorance and because it sounded impressive, he agreed to it. Only later did he look up a dictionary and find that it meant someone with an enthusiasm for sensual pleasure and this pleased him, it was what a pub should be. Joe had started out as a plumber and worked all the hours God gave him before striking out and starting his own business, but his heart had always been set on owning and running his own pub. Now, though the brewery might own the building, the Ardent Hedonist was his. Hed dealt with every shade of human being during he career and believed the secret of a successful pub was the staff. Give guys pretty girls to serve them beer and you were made. To that end hed assembled a collection that crossed the spectrum. Old and young, pretty and plain, flirty and staid. They were Joes staff and collectively they were the BARMAIDS.

It was a quiet afternoon and Norma was whiling away the time polishing the gantry. She was the oldest of the girls, in her 50s, but slim and well turned out. In her day shed been a bit of a blonde stunner, but now the lines were beginning to show across her finely chiselled face. Susan came through from the kitchen behind the bar, a perplexed look on her face, and Norma raised an eyebrow in enquiry. Big Joe called me a trumpet yesterday, Susan whined What do you think he meant by that? Norma let her gaze run over Susans low top and short skirt. Are you sure he didnt say strumpet? Susans perplexed look deepened. Strumpet? Whats that? Norma wondered how this appellation could be explained and settled on, Its like a slapper, only not as classy. Susan snorted. Im not a slapper, or a strumpet. Im a flirt. Norma sighed, Whatever suits you, but youre the only one that gets a short skirt bonus. Susan stuck out a foot proudly. Only cos Ive got the legs for it. Norma had been flashing her underwear to men before Susan was born and wasnt impressed. Why dont you just came in naked? Imagine how much youd get in bonuses then.

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Big Joe MacLean had named his pub The Ardent Hedonist because he hadnt a clue what it meant. It was suggested to him by a friend and, rather than admit his ignorance and because it sounded impressive, he agreed to it. Only later did he look up a dictionary and find that it meant someone with an enthusiasm for sensual pleasure and this pleased him, it was what a pub should be. Joe had started out as a plumber and worked all the hours God gave him before striking out and starting his own business, but his heart had always been set on owning and running his own pub. Now, though the brewery might own the building, the Ardent Hedonist was his. Hed dealt with every shade of human being during he career and believed the secret of a successful pub was the staff. Give guys pretty girls to serve them beer and you were made. To that end hed assembled a collection that crossed the spectrum. Old and young, pretty and plain, flirty and staid. They were Joes staff and collectively they were the BARMAIDS.

It was a quiet afternoon and Norma was whiling away the time polishing the gantry. She was the oldest of the girls, in her 50s, but slim and well turned out. In her day shed been a bit of a blonde stunner, but now the lines were beginning to show across her finely chiselled face. Susan came through from the kitchen behind the bar, a perplexed look on her face, and Norma raised an eyebrow in enquiry. Big Joe called me a trumpet yesterday, Susan whined What do you think he meant by that? Norma let her gaze run over Susans low top and short skirt. Are you sure he didnt say strumpet? Susans perplexed look deepened. Strumpet? Whats that? Norma wondered how this appellation could be explained and settled on, Its like a slapper, only not as classy. Susan snorted. Im not a slapper, or a strumpet. Im a flirt. Norma sighed, Whatever suits you, but youre the only one that gets a short skirt bonus. Susan stuck out a foot proudly. Only cos Ive got the legs for it. Norma had been flashing her underwear to men before Susan was born and wasnt impressed. Why dont you just came in naked? Imagine how much youd get in bonuses then. Susan though about it for a moment before finally making an executive decision. Aye well, maybe in the summer.

At the other end of the long bar the manageress, Donna, was initiating new recruit, student Rita. This business is all about people, pet, she instructed. You might think its about selling booze, but its really all about people. Its a people business. And if you can handle that you can handle anything in the world. Any job you go into, its all about people. What is it youre studying again? Rocket science, Rita confessed. Well there you go, even them spacemen is people. Away behind the bar now and learn off Norma and Susan. Rita obeyed her instructions and joined Susan at the other end of the bar, though the chances of learning anything from her seemed minimal as she was giving a good impression of a statue. Ritas arrival however, inspired her to activity and she shifted some coasters three inches along the bar. Did I hear you right there, she asked her younger colleague, youre going to be a rocket scientist? Rita nodded. Applied rocket propulsion, Im a hands-on kind of person. Oh yeah, me too, Susan squealed appreciatively. Still, youll be useful at New Years.

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The first chapter from rom-com novel, The Stormer, by award-winning author, Gurmeet Mattu. Struggling artist, Hugh, thinks hes made it when hes commissioned to paint a mural on the gable end wall of a tenement building in his beloved Glasgow . He paints a nude of his first love, Davina. But shes married to senior policeman, Crawford, now and hes not happy about this portrayal of his wife. He sets police unit The Mad Skwad the task of sorting Hugh out, and has him barred from all the citys businesses. Enter a whimsical world where romantic ideals meet sheer idiocy, populated by a biker called Midden, a tramp called The Shame, a gang leader called Slab and a gorgeous, naked, redhead called The Stormer. The Sunday Times called the stage version an off-beat romantic comedy, full of incident, colour and suspense".

Davina was her name and she pleaded that I should not write this, that I should not expose her to the world. Apologies, sweet Davey, whose standard would I bear if your starlit eyes had not so pleaded. Those days are gone.

1. THE WALL AND THE PEOPLE See wee Hugh, way up there, high in the sky, splashing on paint like there was a world glut - a paint lake? A paint mountain? Theres a heap of red, because hes on her hair now, and hes got to get it right, tints of yellow, splashes of orange. And her? She's washing dishes, of course, like she always does. Up in the cool fresh air, the sun blazing down, Hugh wiped the sweat from his forehead. Nudes always did that to him. Took a breather, leaning on the scaffolding, looked out over the city. shaggy hair and moustache, unkempt, unloved, this heartbreaker. Oh Glasgow. This wee guy, barely five five, with his

See, there were these three kids once, grew up together in that fair city, nation of Scotland, continent of Europe. They went to school together, played together, fought together. They knew each other well, and in the way of such things they became lovers and haters, winners and losers, dreamers and the dreamed about. Their names were Hugh Cooper, the hero of our tale; Crawford Gillespie, the villain; and Davina McLean, the Stormer. Later, Crawford became a policeman, the crown prince of the Strathclyde Force, and married the beautiful Davina. And Hugh? Well, Hughs way up there, high in the sky, splashing paint all over Glasgow.

Its what he does, creates his art, hanging outside a renovated tenement building, its stone-work sand-blasted to the colour of cream. At its side is a vacant lot, a piece of waste ground, now being landscaped by workmen. They are creating a little city garden with patches of grass, flower beds, a rockery, park benches. Its nice.

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There is scaffolding across the gable end, and much of it is shrouded in canvas. But theres a gap in the canvas, high up on the wall, because Hugh needs light to work. He is ladling on the paint with a large brush, like any other busy artisan. The paint he is enthusiastically throwing onto the wall is an orangey red.

A very similar orangey red to the overalls Fiona was wearing. Fiona was a smallish and feisty-looking blonde in her mid 20s, with a cuddly look that was deceptive. She walked towards a cubicle, carrying a pile of towels. The massage parlour was pine-panelled and hygienic looking, though a little faded. Fiona entered the cubicle where a fat, naked, man was lying face down on the couch. Fiona dumped the towels, poured oil on the man's back and began massaging. After a while his hand dropped from his side, to brush against her leg. Getting braver, he stroked her leg. Fiona sighed resignedly, took a pencil from her pocket and moved it towards the man's backside where she made one rapid stabbing motion. There was a sharp intake of breath, and his hand withdrew quickly from her leg. Fiona returned the to pencil to her pocket and, having dealt with the occupational hazard, returned to taking care of the fat mans less carnal needs.

Meanwhile, Hugh climbed down the ladder, watched by two 10 year old boys. The boys had been annoying the gardeners, but those of the green fingers had finished for the day and were packing their van. Hugh got to the bottom and started fussing about with paint cans, mixing up a new batch of paint. The two boys came over to watch what he was doing, then looked up at the wall. Finally the smaller boy gathered his courage and asked the question with a cough. What is it, mister ? His friend, the sophisticate, answered for Hugh. It's a muriel, ya wanker. The younger lad, a budding art critic, was all eagerness. Is it? Lets see it, mister, go on. Hugh dealt with them as he had been dealt with when young. Bugger off. He continued stirring the paint, the same orangey-red.

Very similar in colour to the red hair of Davina. She was washing dishes. Plate. Into the basin of soapy water. Good scrub. Rinse under running tap. Stack. She was one of the few people in the world who had actually been trained to wash dishes. Her mother had been that kind of woman. Davina was five foot eleven inches tall. Her inside leg was 38 inches, and her legs had good tone and shape. She took size six shoes. Her bum was small and neat, and yet well defined. Her hips were 34 inches, her waist was 22 inches and her stomach was flat and tight. Her chest was 34 inches, but she had a narrow back and took a C cup. Her skin was flawless, without blemishes, marks or scars. It was the colour of light honey. Her hair was the flaming orange of a promising evening, and her face was that dream of symmetry and perfection. Wide eyes, hazy grey. Retrousse nose. Wide mouth. High cheekbones. Dimple in chin. She had Audrey Hepburns neck. She finished the dishes and dried her hands. There was a pile of housework to do, but she didn't feel like it. She never did.


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Why did semi-detached, three bedroom houses in Bearsden take so much cleaning? Davina didn't know it, but it was an unavoidable law of nature. When you moved into the middle class suburbs from a working class tenement, your time and effort expenditure didn't increase in proportion to the increase in living space. It rose in direct relationship to the value of the new property. Once I was poor and dirty, now I am rich and clean. She was wearing a pair of faded denims and a cheesecloth blouse. bare-assed, and bare-boobed. The animal lurked inside her yet. She made a cup of lemon tea, took it through to the lounge and curled up on the leather settee. Her breathing was slow and settled as she sipped, she was waiting. Soon, she slept and when she awoke she made the transformation that was expected of her. She went through to the bedroom and became a lady, dressing as befitted the wife of a superintendent of police. Her bedroom was well-appointed, fitting for a nice middle-class couple. Davina tried on different clothes in front of a full-length mirror. One skirt was a fraction above the knee and obviously pleased her, because she swished about in it. The front door slammed and Crawford, her husband, tall and distinguished in his police superintendent's uniform, appeared at the bedroom door, saw the amount of leg displayed, frowned and shook his head. It was an order. Apart from that she was bare-foot,

Hugh was packing up his equipment and soaking his brushes as an old Volvo pulled up and Fiona got out. She kissed Hugh warily, avoiding his painted surfaces, then stood back while he continued packing. When his attention was away from her, she began edging towards the scaffolding. But Hugh noticed her out of the side of his eye. Just as she got to the canvas and made furtive attempts to pull it away, he made a leap towards her. There was a little mock struggle and she ran away from him to the other end of the wall, to hold the other edge of the canvas and threaten to lift it. He stalked towards her and she lifted the canvas a little higher. The threat was implicit, one step further and she would lift the canvas and look. Hugh, stymied, dropped to his knees and threw open his arms, begging her not to. She laughed and came towards him, kissed him this time without caring

about the paint. She helped him pack his gear into the boot of the car and they drove away from the tenement wall.

A large dark Audi pulled up outside the church and Crawford got out and opened the passenger door for Davina. She was dressed very demurely in a tweed suit. They walked towards the church, where other police officers and various, dignified and suited, middle-aged men were gathering. They were all accompanied by wives, all dressed soberly, but not quite as rigidly as Davina. There was much genteel hand-shaking and back slapping, but it was Crawford who participated. Davina was left standing alone and Crawford had to come back for her to escort her into the church.

The Dogs Breath, a grubby bar which had no character apart from its customers. There were students, an arty crowd, bikers, actors, poets, derelicts, nurses and workmen. heavy drinking going on. Hugh and Fiona entered the pub and struggled through the crowd towards Midden, leather-jacketed, bearded and long-haired, standing with a crowd of other bikers. Hugh reached the bar and waved over Bob, the manager. He passed him a cheque he produced from an envelope and asked him, in a loud voice, to cash it. It was noisy, a jukebox blaring, and there was


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 44

Bob wondered, and knew that Hugh knew, that the days of signing the backs of cheques was long gone, but glancing at the slip, was wise to his purpose. He whistled dutifully. This is for ten grand, Hugh, I can't cash that. Hugh gave a gleeful explanation, Came this morning, wages for the painting from the council. Give me a sub on it. Bob joined him in his moment of glory, Youll be buying everybody a drink then? Hugh glanced round at the huge number of people in the bar and shrugged, Damn right.

The service had just ended and the congregation were slowly filing out. There was a lot of chatting between the business types, networking. The police officers had their own little section and as they left Chief Constable Burroughs put his arm round Crawfords shoulder. I hate these duty calls, Burroughs said, Half these buggers are probably laundering some ill-gotten gains. Crawford nodded. Yes, but a very thought-provoking sermon, I thought. Burroughs looked at him quizzically, but then shrugged it off. I noticed Stoker was here, Burroughs commented Shows initiative for a young fellow. Hell go far, sir. Ill keep an eye out for him. Henderson was late, saw him sneaking in at the end. Crawford could not help but agree with his superior. Hes slow with his paperwork too. Room there for improvement, if you ask me. But at least he showed up. Burroughs nodded, not really looking at Crawford. Your Davina looked stunning, as usual. Crawford smiled gratefully, then looked round, puzzled, searching for Davina. Her mane of red hair identified her, sitting alone, eyes closed, half asleep in the near empty church.

Back in the Dogs Breath everybody was drunk to various degrees.

Hugh turned to the throng of bikers

surrounding him and said, Youre not all turning up, and thats final. Its my big day and Im not having you screwing it up. Midden, smiling wickedly, cuddled up to him. We want to see your picture, Hugh. This masterpiece, thats going to make you world famous ... well, locally speaking. Hugh shrugged him off. You can see it after the opening. Im not having you there noising everybody up and stealing the drink. Midden was staggered. Drink? You never said there was drink involved. Hugh sensed danger and pulled Fiona aside. You make sure that arsehole brother of yours doesnt turn up. Fiona comforted him with a smile. They wont be there, theyre only winding you up. They know its important to you. Midden came up behind Hugh and thrust his wiry frame against Hugh's butt. Hugh! Can I shag you when youre famous ?

The following morning City Council vans and lorries arrived at the tenement. Workmen and equipment poured out of these. Rubbish was cleared from the newly-landscaped waste ground in front of the gable end and carted away in trucks. A little stage was erected at the side with a line of chairs, and a little podium was placed on it

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with a microphone on a stand. A small marquee was put up beside it. Tables were set up and caterers arrived to lay out a buffet and wine.

Fionas flat was girlie. Pastel shades and teddy bears. The style was poor, but the expensive looking TV, DVD and surround sound system showed that this was down to a lack of taste, not cash. Fiona was still running around in her knickers, but Hugh was dressed, wearing the same T-shirt, jeans and long coat he had worn the day before. He was in the bedroom, sprawled in an armchair, gently swigging from a bottle of wine. There was a strange look on his face as he considered what this day meant to him. To his life, his career, his ambitions, his art. You cant go like that, Fiona screeched. Hugh looked down at himself. Its all Ive got. Fiona walked over to a wardrobe and threw it open to show a rack of Italian suits. Ive bought you hundreds of clothes. Hugh made a face and turned away. Lets not start that again. When I buy you hundreds of clothes, then Ill wear the hundreds of clothes youve bought me. Well, youve got plenty of money now, go and get yourself some decent gear. Hugh considered this, then shook his head sadly. Thing is, its been so long, I dont know what decent means any more. Jedward wrote, The Stormer is absolutely marvellous. captivating. It motors along at a decent pace. Has It should be on the best seller list (and perhaps one fine enjoyable characters and witty dialogue. day will be!) The writing is superb and light and joyous Jane Alexander wrote, I like this a lot, a heck of a lot. and hilarious. Pat Black said, In its warm glow of humanity - though never forced nor cloying - I saw a lot of Bill Forsyth's movies, that great west of Scotland artist; Hugh's dealings with the neds, the "friendly shag" gesture of the biker. Great humour and married with fine storytelling. Andrew W. said, I love the quirky descriptions, the way the author throws the words around like he does the paint at the beginning. Superb characterisation, the city as much of a character as the people. Enjoyed immensely, very well done. Francesco wrote, When I finished this I sat around trying to think of something that was as original and funny as the text I'd just read...I failed. This is written with a pacy, easy prose; its full of clever conversation and is very entertaining. T.L Tyson wrote, This is really, really enjoyable. I love the opening sentence, piqued my interest. There is a natural quirky way of writing which made reading this

It is easy in its skin, has great characters, pace and faultless dialogue. andyroo wrote, Original, enjoyable and down to earth. Fun reading that doesnt take itself too seriously. Nick Poole2 wrote, The pencil stab. "It's a muriel, ya wanker." The animal lurked inside her yet. It was an order. "You make sure that arsehole of a brother doesn't show up." The Bikers. "Can I shag you when you're rich and famous." All places where I experienced that pang somewhere between admiration, "I wish I'd written that" and "bastard! talented git."

ONLY 1.99
Click book cover to buy the ebook as a pdf download.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 46


Hitler's moustache has been found in the city of Kiev. Igor insists that It is in the hands of Ukrainian Igor Abigun who inherited he will never it from his grandfather who was serving with the Third sell Ukrainian Front of the Red Army when they swept into fascists Berlin in 1945. it to and

mocks the idea

"My grandfather may have been from Kiev, but he was that it has any no chicken," said Igor. "He and his comrades found powers, though Hitler's bunker and the spot where the fascist dictator's he admits to body was found. It was supposed to have been burnt strong urges to but fragments remained, one of which was the invade Poland moustache and my grandfather, who suffered from mild whenever he kleptomania, took it. It has been in our family ever since." handles the relic. To guard against fascist bids when Igor places it on ebay, bidders will be required to sing The moustache has long been sought after by neo-Nazi groups who claim it has mystical powers and is a necessary symbol for the formation of the fourth reich. But
Hitler before moustache.

the full version of the Internationale when placing a bid.

The moustache will be going as part of a job lot along with a pair of Eva Braun's bloomers and a signed copy of the Hermann Goring Cookbook.

By Sir Arthur Conan the Barbarian

It was on the morning of February the 14th that Mrs Hudson brought up a letter which, for once, was addressed to me and not to Holmes. Being unused to much correspondence I eyed it suspiciously, especially as the envelope was of a vivid pink hue. I feigned indifference but eventually, and with not much not else to do, for Holmes had not yet risen, I took a knife and gingerly opened it.

The notepaper too was pink and so powerfully scented that my senses reeled. I unfolded it cautiously and noted that the writing was decidedly elegant, using a light blue ink. It read as follows: My Dearest James, I feel that on this day of love I should reveal to you how I truly feel. I love you. There, I have not beaten about the bush, but given you the matter plainly, for I am overcome with passion. If you fancy giving me a good seeing to, meet me in the lane behind the Pavilion Theatre at nine pm tonight. Yours in amour, S.H. As I concluded Holmes came through from his bedroom and sniffed the air. "Ah, someone has an admirer," he said, stretching himself. "I don't know what to make of it," I stammered, "I'm sure I have no idea who my correspondent is." I passed the letter to Holmes who read it with unmitigated glee.

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"Well, there's no mystery here, Watson," Holmes snorted, "You shall know who holds such passion for you at nine this evening." I was stunned. "Do you expect me to go?" "And why not?" "But Holmes, this person sounds so vulgar, asking for a good seeing to" "Your paramour is outspoken, I'll admit, but one mustn't jump to conclusions. Each different person has a different frame of reference and what a good seeing to might mean to you and I, might mean coffee and cake to this individual." "Do you really think so?" "Nine tonight will tell the tale. Take a handkerchief for if it's coffee and cake you'll need one to wipe your chin and if it's the other you'll need it to wipe your sweat." Again, I was stunned, for Holmes rarely used vulgarities and then only in jest. Holmes handed me back the letter and my eyes flew to the letters S.H. Could this too be one of Holmes's jokes? Generally speaking he was not a man much given to humour Could it be? Could Holmes be in love Sodomite race? My mind raced as I Holmes minutely but his behaviour involved in a case which required disturb him. In any case, what suspicions was unthinkable. I spent a restless day reading Holmes informed me that the case required some scientific journals and after dinner him to spend the evening prowling the west end but the only alternative was that he actually meant it! with me? Was the great detective of the pondered these questions. I observed seemed as normal as usual. He was his utmost concentration and I feared to could I do, confronting him with my

of London in disguise and that I was not required to accompany him. I did not see him as he left but his voice boomed from the stairway as he departed. "Enjoy yourself, Watson!" I could, of course, have ignored the summons, but the sense of enquiry which my companionship with Holmes had engendered would not be denied. Consequently at eight thirty I donned my coat and caught a hansom cab for the Pavilion. It was a bitterly cold night and a fog was rising but they did not affect me for I was a man on a mission, I had to know if Holmes was a gayboy. I pushed through the happy crowds flocking to the theatre and before long was in the dark alley. Silence awaited and a certain dread filled me. I heard the sharp click of female boots approaching me. Looking up I saw a tall, slim woman coming nearer. "James? Is that you, James?" The voice was deep but female. Yet Holmes was a fine actor and such an impersonation would not be beyond him. "It is I, Dr Watson," I replied. "Don't be so formal, Jimmy baby. Come and give me a kiss." The character unwrapped her scarf and I saw a long face with a slightly hooked nose. The make-up was heavy, but the features familiar. "Who are you?" I croaked.

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"Oh, you don't know me yet, Jimbo. But tonight you're going to get to know me very well." And with that she leant against the wall, unbuttoned her coat and let it fall away from her, while lifting her skirts to display a shapely pair of legs. "You strumpet!" I cried. I edged a few steps away, then turned and began to run. But my retreat did not proceed as I had planned. A leg snaked out and caught my ankle, sending me sprawling to the ground. In a moment I was under my assailant and fighting for my dignity as long, slim but extremely strong hands probed at my clothing. I tried to fight back but my attacker was too strong and at that moment I knew that this was no normal woman, it could only be Holmes and this was no jest. He did indeed want me to give him a good seeing to! Like a man drowning my mind flashed to the past. Of Holmes's indifference to women and other telltale signs that I had ignored, or put down to the detective's unique character. Suddenly, I saw my chance, my attacker had divested me of my trousers and was engrossed in investigating my underpants. I let fly with a right hook and was heartened to see the beast collapse in a heap at my side. As I collected myself and rearranged my clothing I heard an imperious voice. "What on Earth are you doing, Watson?" I looked up to see Holmes standing above me in the guise of a west end dandy. "Holmes? But? But?" I stammered and pointed to the comatose form beside me. "Ah, you seem to have knocked her out. A lucky shot, I'd guess, for she has an iron jaw. I recognised her perfume instantly from your letter. Watson, let me introduce my sister, Shirley Holmes."


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What are the benefits of changing your name? Put simply, your name is your identifier or brand, and what it conveys to others defines how they think of you. It is vital therefore that your name shows the true you. No one would have been surprised at J. Edgar Hoover wearing a dress if it had been realised that his first name was Jane. Some surnames, of course, derive from professions or peculiarities our ancestors may have had. Thus someone called Fletcher had an ancestor who made arrows, and someone called Hic had a forebearer who was a drunk. Thus it is important that your name accurately reflects your personality and, as it is relatively easy to change one's name, there is no reason draw admiring glances if known Care must be taken however. Norman Smallparts who decided many years of intense why you should be saddled with a bland John Smith when you could as Ralph Rocketshot. There is the tale of to change his name after embarrassment, He

missed the point however by Smallparts. On a similar note historical connotations which instance no member of the consider a career in medicine Honesty is the best policy change your name to. There is nothing wrong with heroes, but again care Muhammad Ali Eastwood ears, while Tarzan

changing it to Jimmy some names may carry must be shrugged off. For Mengele family should

without a name change. when deciding on what to

naming yourself after your must be taken in selection. might sound strange to some Travolta is really going to

confuse the kids. Physical descriptions are fine, but only if they accurately describe your appearance. Don't expect anybody to accept you as Butch Rockcrusher when you weigh 100lbs, even if you are a girl, and Red McPherson needs to have at least some hair. Your personal abilities can also supply an apt name. Boxers of course have it easy, as witness Hitman Hearns and Sugar Ray Leonard, though Deadly Docherty was better known for flatulence rather than fisticuffs. Where you have a touch of schizophrenia however this can be confusing. Harpo Einstein says nothing about you. Adopting a foreign name can have definite advantages. Women still swoon over the mere mention of Giacomo Casanova, but it's doubtful they would cross the road for him if he'd been known by the English translation of Jack Newhouse. And Che Guevara's real first name was Ernesto. What kind of revolutionary is called Ernie? In conclusion let us take as an example a guy called Thomas Forrester who wants to change his name to something better suited to his personality. He is called Thomas after his mother's father and as he loved the old man he would be loathe to drop it. The Forrester is a tribute to his father's ancestors, who carved their way through forests to build our modern civilisation, another piece of heritage that he does not want to lose. The answer, of course, is easy, he simply changes his name to Forrester Thomas.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 50


The Upper Wobbly Amateur Drama Society of Leicestershire in England are planning a stage version of movie The Magnificent Seven for their debut production this autumn. "It will be based on the Sturges movie and not the Kurosawa version," said director, Nobby Carter, who will also play Vin, the part played by Steve McQueen in the epic western. "I will be Chris, the Yul Brynner part," added Sally, Nobby's wife, "and I will be shaving my head to get into character. Vicky will be Britt, as she's so good with kitchen knives and Joe will take the Robert Vaughn part as he's such a depressing shit." "We're all western fans," continued Nobby, "and were fairly determined to bring a classic western to the stage for the Upper Wobbly audience. We considered The Alamo and Gunfight at the OK Corral, and Lou even suggested Blazing Saddles, but Betty refused to do the flatulence scene which I, as the director, thought was essential to the basic character development within the plot arc. The only change we have made is that, instead of helping out poor Mexican villagers, our Magnificent Seven will be helping out a group of Leicester chiropodists who are being threatened by a gang of accountants. However, neither the chiropodists or accountants actually appear in the piece." " "In the end run it came down to the fact that Melvin had the soundtrack album," Sally contributed. "That and the fact we have seven actors," concluded director Nobby.
Sally Carter displays incredible acting skills.




Researchers at Strathclyde University in Glasgow, Scotland, claim to have discovered the secret behind tartan or plaid, as it is known in the U.S. "Tartan contains a hidden code," explained Dr Noddy Chancer, "It literally speaks to us. Early tartans, identified with the regions of Scotland where they were manufactured, rather than individual clans, but they all told of the origins of the celtic peoples in the middle of the Euro-Asian landmass and their migration to the western fringes of Europe. All tartans are actually a history book in cloth. This was the reason why the wearing of tartan was banned by the English in 1746, they were trying to extinguish our history." The research team at the University have not yet decoded all of the 7,000 currently recognised tartans but are making good progress. "The thing is," added Chancer, "that newer tartans have been designed without any knowledge of the code they represent and they therefore read as utter gibberish or as something very rude. The official tartan of Microapple Computers, designed last year, for instance reads 'I would

Pic by tienvijftien

rather dance with a clergyman than go trout fishing.' I can't believe that the designer actually meant to say that, though graphic designers are often very sad and lonely people."

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Hey, good lookin, what ya got cookin? Shaz, baby, hows it going? Okay, but this job is boring. I thought you had some smart looking guys there.


Didnt work, though, did it? No, Bens not interested in a relationship. He says hes committed to his career.


Thats a salesman for you. Money mad.


Oh, theyre dishy enough, but I think theyre all gay. I think theres something about working with ball bearings that attracts the gay man. SHARON: JULIE:

Had a nice car though. Slut! Youre not supposed to like men for their cars. Youve got to like them for their personality.


Get away! Im telling you. Ive been flirting and pouting and acting all girly and nothing. My last place that stuff used to have them panting and drooling. JULIE: SHARON:

I think a mans car says something about him. What does my Georges Ford say then?


Well, it would, youre good at that pouting.


Says hes no imagination. He could afford something a bit sporty.


Yeah, there was a day that pout could bring a grown man to his knees at fifty yards. Maybe Im losing it, getting old.


He hasnt got any money, not yet. His Dads rich. He doesnt take anything from his parents. Says he wants to make his own way in the world.


You could always get that collagen. No, you know I never went to college. There must be one straight guy. Just old Scrotum and his 36 inside leg and hes got his Gladys. SHARON:

Hes an idiot. If my folks were rich I wouldnt be living in a scruffy apartment and working for Frobisher & Crutch and their shitty ball bearings.


Is that her name then, Mrs Scrotum? She was round again yesterday, Brought us a cake, chocolate fudge. Shes good at that baking. JULIE: SHARON:

What would you be doing then? Id live inside an iPod, texting and tweeting to my hearts content.


Ooh, chocolate fudge, I think I have a little orgasm just saying it. JULIE: SHARON:

Youre nuts. No, Im a romantic. I have an imagination! And dreams!


Youre kinky you are. Me, kinky? Im not the one that kisses other girls boyfriends.


And spots. I hate you sometimes.


I only borrowed your Dave to make Ben jealous.


Capricorn - December 22- January 20 Beware of blonde women called Alice. They are only after one thing, your wristwatch. Drink lots of orange juice as this helps the economy of Florida and my mother lives there


Aquarius - January 21 February 19 Try to avoid tight-rope walking during the full moon as it will throw your sense of balance out by 3.2% Wear khaki if it rains.

Pisces - February 20 March 20 Shout as loudly as you can if things arent going your way. A spell in jail will do you good. Ask for orange juice while there.

Aries - March 21- April 20 Meat pies will do you no good this month, especially if you are a vegetarian. Try to take more exercise, especially on Wednesday evening when your body is in harmony.

Taurus - April 21- May 21 Dont clock watch this month as the omens that are due will come in their own good time. Take up knitting to pass the hours away.

Gemini - May 21- June 21 You have neglected your spiritual needs and need to hang about more with sailors. Nigerian ones are particularly good at this time of year but the Portugese should be avoided.

Cancer - June 22 July 23 It was General George S. Patton who said, I could kill for a bacon sandwich. Let that be a lesson for you.

Leo - July 24 August 23 Magenta is a pretty colour, but it doesnt suit you, especially as it clashes with your eyes and your underwear. Id give away that business suit.

Virgo - August 24 September 23 Financial security is at last on the horizon as you are likely to find a lost wallet soon. You can keep the cash, but return the credit cards and any other ID.

Libra - September 24- October 23 Whistling show tunes is not a good way to attract a mate. Try dancing, especially if you know any exotic moves which thrill the senses.

Scorpio - October 24 November 22 Oh Scorpio, youve got a broken heart again, but what can you expect. Noone is going to put up with such a misery guts. Get a smile on and see love grow.

Sagittarius - November 23 December 21 The charity run was a mistake as the hospital bills are likely to be ruinous. No one expected you to win but, of course, you wouldnt listen.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 53

Fashion designer, Ralph Sillytrousers, is set to change the world of menswear forever with some stunning new innovations. "Menswear has been drab for too long," he said at the launch of his summer collection in Rome last week. We are limited to a suit for work and jeans and t-shirt for leisure-wear, whereas women have a much wider range of fashion choices they can make." His first initiative is for a battle tutu for combat soldiers, as he explained. "I was reading an article and, as I'm mildly dyslexic, I misread ballet tutu as battle tutu, and I thought, 'What an interesting concept.' A tutu would allow a soldier freedom of movement, be cool in hot climates, and could be made available in camouflage colours if necessary. I have submitted a proposal to the U.S. military and am awaiting a response." Other innovative concepts from his fertile mind include rubber elbows on business suits which can be used as erasers, pre-stained boiler suits, jackets with built in parachutes for pilots and a soluble hat, allowing the wearer to get the full benefit of his umbrella. "Some people say I'm mad," added Sillytrousers, "but I don't mind that. Many great innovators were thought to be insane before the logic of their ideas became accepted. Many said Einstein was a fool when he invented the tumble dryer, but he ended up with the Nobel prize for laundry." Sillytrousers brand 'Whatatwat' will be available at most High Street stores and, the designer insists, at reasonable prices. "I don't see why men should have to pay $1,000,000 for a tie. No tie is worth $1,000,000. I've never paid more than $800,000 for a tie and that was with an in-built clock-radio, so I'm perfectly in touch with the financial restrictions placed on the man in the street. My battle tutus will wholesale to the military at $46,985.95 each. Outfitting the whole army will mean they have less money for weapons and therefore can't kill as many people. Wouldn't that be just wonderful?" Secrecy is vital to the work of the spy, says British Intelligence operative, Bert Ross


(48), in his recently published autobiography, I Am A Secret Agent. "The whole Bond thing is rubbish, he wouldn't last ten minutes in the real world," said the married father of three, who lives at 14 Glade Avenue, Pindar, Essex. "Bond goes around telling everybody his name and that's a very unsecret agent in my book," added the Newcastle-born beer-drinker at his local pub, The Mole and Password, in Madrid Street. His wife, librarian, Gladys, agreed, saying, "Bert is super-secret, the neighbours all think he's an accountant. That's why I married him. Imagine my surprise when he produced his credentials on our wedding night." "And all that seducing beautiful women is a myth," continued Bert, "Look at Gladys. And the double oh section are janitors and Miss Moneypenny is a tea-lady. Ian Fleming painted a totally false picture of intelligence work, but then he was only there for a week to help with some filing." Before he disappeared into the night to pick up the kids from his sister Janet's, Bert added one final, chilling, line, "I am not licensed to kill. I am licensed to write a very critical report." Spy, Bert Ross.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 54

"I don't believe you," said Zard, "It defies all logic." "But it is true, I have seen it with my own eye," Looc answered. "You must be mistaken." "I have been a surveyor of alien worlds for forty aeons, I know my business." "But vegetables? What sentient being would wear vegetables?" "These humans do." "Even our primitive ancestors wore animal skins, not vegetables. Yet you say these humans are intelligent. Why would they wear vegetables instead of eating them?" "They too wear animal skins. And yes, they are intelligent, and technologically advanced. They have underarm deodorant." "But why do they wear vegetables?" "I do not know, perhaps it has some religious significance." "They worship turnips?" "No, they worship television. But, as I have said, they are a strange race." "Bring me back a pair of these cotton jeans then. 12" waist." Recently discovered historical documents have called into question the love affair between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, wife of King Arthur, which led to the dissolution of the Round Table and the destruction of Camelot. The documents, discovered in a mediaeval tomb by archaeologists in Wales, instead claim that Lancelot was gay and was only interested in getting fashion tips from Guinevere. "Lancelot was set up by Sir Brutus," said Prof. Dai Llewelleyan of Cardiff University, "who was jealous of Lancelot's reputation as the finest fighting knight of the Round Table. He knew he couldn't beat him in combat, so he hatched this plan of claiming that Lancelot and Guinevere were having it off, even though he knew the Lancelot only visited Guinevere's chamber to discuss the merits of hessian underwear. Arthur, who was unaware that Lancelot was gay, believed Brutus and exiled Lancelot." The documents further claim that it was in fact King Arthur that Lancelot was in love with and his friendship with Guinevere was an attempt to emulate her and incite Arthur's interest. "The Knights of the Round Table were always on a quest to find the Holy Grail," continued the Prof, "but in Lancelot's case the Grail lay in Arthur's codpiece. He would wiggle and gyrate in Arthur's presence to arouse him, but the King only thought he suffered from some strange malady, as he could not believe that Lancelot, who was so masculine in battle, liked to relax in a bubble bath and read celebrity gossip mags." "The crunch came when female underwear was found in Lancelot's cell. It matched that worn by Guinevere and Arthur jumped to an immediate, if false, conclusion. In fact the panties could not have belonged to Guinevere as Lancelot was considerably larger than she was, but Sir Brutus took charge of the evidence and had it boil washed so that it shrunk. This is what he then presented at Lancelot's trial. Lancelot pleaded that he was a gay cross-dresser, but the thinking of the time could not imagine such a scenario."



We are currently looking for submissions for future issues of Amock, both textual and graphic. So if you think youve got the ability to make our readers howl with laughter click HERE to visit our website and see our submission guidelines and submit. Read the magazine to ensure you know our style. Anything we use will be paid for. We look forward to seeing your best work.

The UK government has announced that the symbol of Great Britain is to be changed and that the replacement for Brittania will be Big Tania. "She will be a true representative of the young, modern, British woman" said Prime Minister, David Cameron. "She will be a single parent and

be addicted to TV soap operas and talent shows and having unprotected sex with complete strangers as long as they are called Barry or Kevin.."

The original Britannia was named after a Roman goddess but the modern version will have no such connotations as authorities fear causing offence to the religious sensibilities of followers of Jove. "I'm sure Big Tania will be just as iconic as Britannia," added Cameron, "and I look forward to hearing English rugby fans singing 'Big Tania, Big Tania, Big Tania Rules the Waves." Chaplin angle sewn up and Hermann and I will do a passable Laurel and Hardy. Hermann will obviously be the fat, incompetent one and I will be the skinny one that does the thing with his hair. The scriptwriters are at work and Leni (Riefenstahl) will direct. She isn't really known for her comedy work but Goering and Goebbels have natural comedic talent which is bound to shine through. We have already planned one really funny scene where we try to get a piano up some stairs but it is beyond us, so we get some Polish slave labourers to do it. My only regret is that we have nobody to challenge those Hebrew swines, the Marx Brothers, who are said to be favourites of Churchill."


Exclusive by Ron Gullible Nazi propaganda chief, Josef
Goebbels, planned to take on Hollywood, recent research has revealed. He, and Luftwaffe boss, Hermann Goering, hoped to form a comedy double act that would rival Laurel & Hardy. This information was found in encrypted sections of his diaries, which have only just been decoded. Goebbels wrote, 'This will be the crowning achievement of my propaganda career, to prove to the world that we weren't nasty Nazis at all, but just harmless comedians. The Fuhrer has the

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 56

Heres a competition for the comedy writers amongst you, with the winner getting a FREE website from Heres the deal 1. The short story must be between 1,000 and 2,000 words. 2. It can be any genre but must have a strong comedy element and be suitable for a general audience. 3. It must be submitted as a MS Word file with the title and authors name and e-mail address at the top of the script. 4. The deadline is 28th February 2012. 5. The winner will be judged on the strength of the story and the quality of the writing and humour. 6. Winners will be announced in the February 2012 edition of E-Book Review. 7. The winner will get - A 20 page website designed and built by Novel2Ebook. A domain name of your choice (subject to availability) complete with hosting for a year. 8. All entrants grant first digital publishing rights for their entry to Amock. Any submissions used within the magazine will receive a fee. 9. The editors decision is final. 10. No correspondence will be entered into. Send submissions to with Short Story Submission in the Subject field.


Residents of Miami can rest easier in their beds from now on as a new superhero has moved into the city and promises to put criminals to flight. He is Invisible-in-the-Dark Man and he aims to clear up the Florida city of thieves, prostitutes, pimps, gangsters, blackmailers and bankers within the next few months. "I will not tire in my fight," he said, "And warn all criminals that their day is done. My incredible power of invisibility in the dark will allow me to penetrate their most secret lairs and seek them out, and though I don't have super-strength I do intend to carry a very large stick." "I'm not afraid of their guns either, as I only operate in the dark when I am completely invisible. They can't shoot what they can't see. The first they'll know I'm even there is when they hear the cuffs click round their wrists." The origins of this strange superpower are shrouded in mystery though it is suspected that our hero was once bitten by a radioactive octopus from another planet. However

Invisible-in-the-Dark Man refused to confirm this, claiming that to do so might jeopardise his secret identity. "I have to be cautious," he explained, "I have a wife and three kids to think about and little Mikey currently has diarrhoea. Plus which my wife doesn't approve of my superhero career as there is no salary, health plan or other benefits. Fighting crime is a job for the cops she says, but I think all citizens should accept their civic responsibility. Of course my super-power helps." VISIT AMOCKS WEBSITE

Invisible-in-the-Dark Man goes into action.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 57

Hi, my name's Joanne Bailey, and I'm what's commonly regarded as a MILF. For those who don't know, a MILF is a Mother I'd Like to ..uh.. do naughty things to, as popularised in the American Pie movies. Basically it implies that I am a more mature woman, who younger men have sexual fantasies about.

litter bearer at the battle of Royston Moor. I do the laundry on Thursdays and do grocery shopping twice a week, usually Sundays and Wednesdays. Young Alan is really into social networking and has friends all over the world through Facebook. Katrin is just a little sweetheart and very much a Daddys girl. She hasnt really developed an individual personality yet

So here are my confessions. I am married to Bill, who's a house painter and we have two kids, Alan (7) and Katrin (4). I'm thirty years old and I've been married to Bill for nine years. I have a part-time job as a check-out operator at our local supermarket, and work three afternoons per week there. Bill goes out for a drink with his workmates on a Friday night and we go out together on a Saturday night. My mother babysits and we usually go to a movie or for a meal. I like Johnny Depp but Bill prefers action movies, so we usually take turn about when it gets to choosing what to watch.

but I guess that will come once she gets to school. She attends a pre-school nursery and is slowly becoming more independent. Last week she said she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up.

I'm on a low carb. diet at the moment (have been for over a year) because I put on a few pounds after the kids and my behind is beginning to sag. Ive also put on four inches on my hips. Bill says he doesnt mind but I dont believe him. Cooking is another hobby and I like to collect cookbooks. My

We watch quite a lot of television, and I especially enjoy medical dramas. Bill collects model fire engines and I am taking evening classes in pottery. So far I've made an ashtray, though neither of us smoke. I gave it to my father in law. I also embroider cushion covers and give them to my friends as gifts at Christmas. Theyre probably sick of the sight of them. pasta.

favourite style is Italian and I am learning how to make my own Bill bought me a machine last year

and though I still havent mastered it totally, Im getting there.

For holidays we usually go to Spain or Greece, though Id like to take the kids to Disneyland in Forida one day.

I also enjoy reading and find John Grisham's work very interesting. Bill likes investigating his family history on the internet. One of his ancestors was a So, those are my MILFY confessions. I hope they turned on all you young guys.


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The great hall rang with a thousand voices. Burning torches around the walls cast dancing shadows as the great throng moved around. The air was rich with the smell of spilled beer and roasted ox meat. Tables were thumped and voices raised and occasionally a female voice shrieked in indignity. But suddenly there was silence as Vorga entered. He was a big man. Bigger even than the many fur-clad brutes who clustered around him. But they made space quickly, for Vorga was known to be short of temper and quick of sword. He swung one iron shod boot onto a bench and hoisted himself onto the head table. A cry of welcome was quickly stifled as Vorga looked around him and slowly nodded his bearded head in approval. His voice was low and gravelly. It has been the way of we, the Targen, he said, to gather together in time of war and on the eve of battle to declare ourselves before our brethren and before the Gods, that all may know our names and remember them lest we fall in combat. He paused, unused to lengthy speech and his great chest filled with air before he bellowed, Hail, ye gods, and listen to my words. I come before you, a Prince of Pelthidor, Master of Volkrane, Holder of the Talisman of Shen-Derok. I Vorga, son of Rastak, the Soul Shredder. The crowd roared enthusiastically and a low chant of Vorga, Vorga began. Almost instantly a smaller man leapt up onto the table beside Vorga. He was smaller only in height and matched his chief in the breadth of his chest and the width of his thighs. Unlike Vorga he was clean shaven and his face was marked with countless scars and his eyes burned. He placed the head of his great battle-axe on the table and rested his hands on the haft. His voice was higher than Vorgas but carried a terrifying coldness. Hail, ye gods, he roared, and listen to my words. I come before you, Lord of the Night Realms, Victor of the Battle of Zildar, Terror of the Hergol. I Damak, son of Jakar, the Blood Scorcher. Again there was an enthusiastic roar but as this died away there was a strange uncertain pause. Finally a small man, dressed only in a t-shirt and shorts was pushed forward. One of the warriors grabbed him as he passed and whispered in his ear. It is your turn, stranger. Guests precede the nobility in our tradition. His great, meaty hand then propelled the stranger onto the table with one shove. The stranger looked around him and his heart fell at the sight of the huge, imposing throng, but Vorga put his hand on his shoulder and gave it an encouraging, though bone crushing, squeeze. The strangers voice was weedy and did not carry far through the crowd, as he said, Hail, ye gods, and listen to my words. I come before you, a confectioner and a member of the trade federation, a member of the bowling club, fined for speeding, twice. I, Derek, son of Gladys. Silence rippled through the crowd before voices bubbled again. Derek? they cried, and Gladys? It was Vorga who calmed his warriors with a raised hand. He turned to Derek and asked, Is this true Gladys? Derek cleared his voice and answered in a thin voice, Yes. I ..I .. never knew who my Dad was. Vorgas great head nodded sympathetically, Truly, a tragedy. Enough to crush a warriors very soul. Damak came from behind them and lay his strong arm across Dereks shoulders. Aye, and sap his very strength, he said, To carry such a burden. A loathsome destiny. Dereks spirits rose as Vorga added. But be not afeared, Derek, son of Gladys. Where evil lurks, that is where The Brotherhood of the Blade are to be found. We have faced many such mortal challenges before, and crushed them beneath our heels.


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But the crowd seemed to be not so easily accepting. A slow chant began, Zemba, Zemba , which filled Dereks soul with dread. As the chant grew in volume the biggest man Derek had ever seen pushed his way through the crowd towards them. He was bigger even than Vorga with a great mass of unruly red hair on his head. His biceps, bulging from beneath his tattered furs, were bigger than Dereks head and his beard seemed like the fiery breath emanating from a dragons maw. But it was his eyes that most struck fear in Gladyss boy. They were dark and deep set and should have disappeared inside that giant head, whereas they shone like beacons. This was Zemba. Despite this Derek tried to make light of the situation. Bit of a mismatch, isnt it? But Vorga looked puzzled. Mismatch? Trial of strength? Test of manhood? Struggle to the death. Nay, stranger, Vorga laughed, Think ye that we are barbarians? Zemba is our resident social worker.


New York dentist, Norm Sacrilegious, has invented a new faith which he claims could end religious strife throughout the world. The new religion, to be called Shasbah, will be unveiled during a revelation next week. "The world has been crying out for a new religion for centuries," Norm explained, "because all the popular religions have failed to see into the future and meet the needs of a modern world. Our religion will be wise to the computer, internet and International Space Station, what other religion can claim that? Shasbah is a monotheistic religion with only one God. His name is George, though that may be an alias." Norm is the selfof Shasbah, and requirements of "What religions do defining what you They dress this up Commandments requirements are because I made In any case, the is definitely of Shasbah, Chinese origin summer. proclaimed messenger went on to state the this new faith. is control you by can eat and drink. and call them or some such. Our not God-given, them up last Tuesday consumption of pizza forbidden to followers unless they are of and only during the Similarly, alcohol is

forbidden, but only between 3.00 and 3.10 GMT on the 8th of August, unless it falls on a Thursday. They have very strict rules concerning sexual relations and Norm is currently considering banning it all together. A celibate society is a clean society, he insisted, Only the higher echelons of the faiths clergy, like what I am, will be permitted any sexual activity. You can join the upper echelons of the clergy for a modest fee. Norm hopes to declare a religious war once he has a few followers, though he hasnt yet decided who he will confront in his crusade or jihad. Sorry, but thats what we religious folk do, he explained.

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Houseflies: How nutritious? Turnip fries: Mmmm! Alcohol: A world shortage looms. Human flight: The myths Watching the microwave-an alternative to TV Homosexuality to be made compulsory More ON COMPANY TIME Know the cheese - Know the man. So dont forget to visit to get Amock from the Magazine section.


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The wife of convicted drug-dealer Joe Lefty Henderson is to sue the Federal Now all he wants to do is go clothes shopping with me. He is a small man and had to take the passive role in gaol, but it turned out he liked it and now he doesnt even look at me in that way. He hasnt touched me since he got out. His idea of a good night out nowadays is a gay bar or a Barbra Streisand movie. I am a normal woman and have the normal needs of a woman which are going unfulfilled due to my Lefty turning

Government, claiming that the five years he spent in jail have turned him into a homosexual. He was a happily married man before he went in, she complained, but the

hoosegow introduced him to man-love and now hes addicted. Brenda, Leftys wife and mother of their four

children now plans to take the Feds to court and is into a fag. Sure he deserved to get punished for the claiming damages for loss of affection and contributing dope dealing, that was stupid, but the government to the destruction of their marriage. He was a normal guy, she continued, He drank beer and watched football till those queers got a hold of him. Im sorry for Brenda, but I cant help it, Lefty said. doesnt have the right to turn a straight guy into a goddam homosexual.


US President Barack Obama is suggesting a return to slavery as a way out of the current economic downturn with millions threatened with unemployment. "History only gives us a negative impression of the institution of slavery," he said at a recent press conference. "Modern day slavery would have no racist

connotations and would be strictly controlled." He went on to detail the steps he thought necessary to revive the practice which has been outlawed in the civilised world for over a hundred years. "Being a slave would be open to all, regardless of race, colour or creed and similarly, being a slave owner would be equal opportunity. The slave owner would not be permitted to punish his slave in any physical fashion, apart from mild spanking, and any disputes would be resolved by an independent arbitrator. The slave owner would contract to provide his slave with housing, food and a decent standard of living including health-care, while the slave would offer his labour on an unwaged basis." "The truth is that we have got things wrong," Obama explained, "People today aren't looking for jobs, they're looking for wages, which is quite a different thing. But if you take wages out of the equation and supply the necessities of life which those wages would have bought, you have a whole new ball game. Communism has collapsed, capitalism has collapsed, slavery's time has come." Hes nuts, commented a Republican spokesman. What hes suggesting is indentured labour, a return to serfdom. Serf! was the Presidents response, Thats the word I was looking for.

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British Prime Minister, David Cameron, has announced Coalition partners, the Lib-Dems currently have no his resolution to become a nudist. plans to join him in his new endeavour, though Deputy recently going to "The naturist lifestyle has always appealed to me PM Nick Clegg was spotted personally," he explained, adding, "But it is also a green bed without a tie. issue as, by wearing less clothes, we will consume less The Labour Party were quick of our planet's precious resources." to respond by claiming that But those looking forward to seeing the old Etonian in this initiative had been stolen all his nakedness will have to wait for a while, as he from them as all of their MPs does not plan to shed his clothes immediately. were ardent nudists. "I have always been known for being careful," the PM "We love getting naked," a said, "and I intend to take the same cautious approach spokesperson said, "We to my new lifestyle. I will begin by not wearing socks are starkers most of the as an introductory measure, but can see myself swiftly time, apart from in the discarding my vest. Perhaps in a year I will go winter when members commando at the despatch box in the House of wear a willy warmer. Commons. Depending on the outcome of the next Especially the women." election I will then remove my shirt and trousers."


The world's biggest coward, Arthur Feartie, has invented a new martial art. The new form of self


Indian scientist, Vijay Patel, claims to have cured baldness by rubbing chillies onto his head. "It is most very wonderful," he said, in a poor parody of Peter Sellers. "I have been bald since I was seven years old, but now I am cured. I use special chillies, grown in an allotment in Bradford but using soil from the Punjab. I am sure it is the combination of Indian soil and English

defence, called No Kan Do, is claimed to be superior to older, established eastern methods such as karate, judo and kung fu and western methods such as boxing. "It's a very simple martial art," explained Feartie at his nodojo (practice hall), "but it is very much a method of self defence and cannot be used aggressively." Feartie also claimed that he had challenged established martial arts masters and that they had not been able to land a blow on him. "He ran away," said Kwai Chang Lee, Black Belt, 4th Dan, in karate, who can split an atom with a single blow. "It's no wonder I didn't land a blow on him, he scarpered." "That is the beauty of my method," said an unapologetic Feartie, "It does not require strength, agility or years of training. When challenged to a fight one merely says 'No Kan Do' and runs away. I am undefeated in fifteen, cross-discipline bouts. You no longer need to be

rain which has given chillies my such

incredible properties." Though he

works at the Yorkshire Institute of Spurious Science, Patel denied that he was motivated only by profit. "It is really working, honest, I am telling you. This magical product is available for 85 for 100gms only. No cheques."

bullied, just learn No Kan Do."


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Left-handed blondes frequently marry men called Kevin. The Latvian army can march backwards.
Extracted from The Complete Book of Lies by Professor Ed Spurious.

Hanging with a bungee cord was rejected as a method of execution by the New Zealand Supreme Court.

The password to enter the Pentagon on the 4th Sarah Palin once tried to shoot a moose with a lipstick. of July 1982 was Enema. Because of the weight of its population the US sinks into the Earths crust by 3 mm every year. Horace Pendlebury patented the underwater hovercraft in 1932.

The French National Anthem cannot be played The favourite name for dogs in New Zealand is backwards. Nancy. Coating a horse in chocolate is a capital offence in Tasmania. Franciscan monks have a very poor sense of balance. Being flatulent is a great help in hang-gliding. Robin Hood was the hide-and-seek champion Belgian prostitute Brenda Dulays mobile sex of Sherwood Forest for three years running. service, Feels On Wheels has won a new The best selling national newspaper in Uganda business initiative award. is called the Daily Newspaper. Leopards have no taste buds. One of the bodies of the Roswell aliens was Sylvester Stallone likes to bake cakes, eaten by a local who thought it was road-kill. especially sponges. Transvestites can travel for free on public Dudley Moore went on a 10 year bender to transport in Adelaide, Australia. prepare for the role of Arthur. Humphrey Bogart collected boomerangs. Josef Stalin could fart and burp at the same time. Ukrainian men are required by law to grow a moustache at some point in their life. Margaret Thatcher had her feminine side surgically removed. Hangovers can be cured with torture. Many circus bearded ladies are lesbians. Jack the Ripper is a registered trademark. George W. Bush was a chess grand master. Eating too much toast can give you malaria.

If you wash your car more than once a week it Gillette will launch the 10 blade razor this year. will shrink. Norwegian dentists are exempt from military service if they have had acne. The miracle of the moving cheese of San Fredo, has been proved to be a fraud following Men with moustaches often call their sons Eric. the discovery nearby of a nest of particularly muscular mice. February is the unluckiest month for redecorating your home. The Japanese have admitted that kamikaze does not mean divine wind as they have been The Kama Sutra is available in cartoon form in claiming since WWII. It actually means stupid parts of India where literacy levels are low. bastard. Eating over a pound of bacon per day can give Oliver Reed once bench pressed Orson Welles. you super strength. Oil well fires can be put out with ice cream. Chimpanzees do not like the smell of old books.


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It really all happened by accident, says veteran producer, Hymie Nose. He is reminiscing, in his retirement home, about the chat show that was in the 1960s, one of the most successful TV programs on the air, Concussion Corner. We were producing the Barry Marr Show, he continues, which had a small but loyal following for Barrys gentle interviews with lesser Hollywood stars and popular celebrities of the day. That night the main guest was Gloria Swansong and everything was going fine till Barry asked her if she enjoyed eating deep-fried fruit-bats. What Hymie didnt know was that, as the studios were being redeveloped at the time, a lot of construction equipment was left lying around. Barry had walked into a steel support bar in the car park time, but she kept the game rolling and the audience were roaring. The rest, as they say, is history. Word of Concussion Corner soon spread and Barry, even though his original concussion had passed, frequently interviewed in the guise of Napoleon or Florence Nightingale. The guests were encouraged to let fly with flights of fancy too but as many werent adept at this form of improvising ad-libs ratings began to fall. We were in a bind, explains Hymie and thats when I came up with the idea of concussing the host and the guests before the show, so wed get the maximum amount of genuine insanity possible. I had a padded mallet constructed by the props department and Barry and his guests would get a blow to the head just before transmission time. I didnt hide the fact and even renamed the show as Concussion Corner, but I just knew wed have a hit on our hands. Some of the guests were a bit dubious about getting a whack on the head, but even the most sober-minded could see that they get away with saying anything if they were concussed and they desperately wanted that freedom. The show ended on the night actor Hector Macho went berserk and injured three cameramen and a make-up girl. He was a pussy, says Hymie, I hardly gave him a tap with the mallet and he went wild. That make-up girl gave him a hell of a fight though. Went on to be a professional wrestler. Great days.

when he arrived and as he hadnt been cut or anything he hadnt reported it. What he didnt realise was that hed suffered a concussion which had knocked some of his brain cells awry. Hymie continues his story. Well, we all knew something wasnt right but we had nothing to cut to apart from a continuity guy and Ive always been a great believer in the show-biz adage that the show must go on. I also realised that we were getting laughs from the audience, so I thought the hell with it, lets see where this goes. Anyway, Gloria says, Barry, you know you dont deep-fry fruit-bats, you saut them lightly in a little butter. I like to add a little garlic and sprinkle some parmesan over them once theyre cooked. Gloria was going a bit ga-ga by that


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Queen Eleanor of Lesbia has announced that she will send troops from the Lesbian Army to support democracy's fight against terrorism in Afghanistan. This will be the first time that Lesbian troops have seen action since the formation of the Lesbian nation, and comes at the request of U.S.President, Barrack Obama. In her statement the Queen said, "We will be sending a special division of Attack Lesbians but not the legendary Lipstick Legion. The Lipsticks fight wearing stiletto heels and these are not suitable for the Afghan terrain." T h e Lesbian Army, though small in number, is extremely well-equipped and superbly trained.

Her Majesty's statement continued, "We cannot stand apart from the rest of the world. Many Lesbians have been the victims of terrorism and this cannot be tolerated. I warn the terrorists now, cease your evil ways or face the wrath of enraged Lesbians. I have ordered my girls to don their battle panties and shoulder their death-dealing sex toys." The Lesbian Army will be supported by members of the Lesbian Special Forces who are specialists in night fighting and killing the enemy using only advanced frottage techniques. The Queen's statement concluded with these stirring words, "The terrorists may think they have the upper hand and can give us the finger, but we can lick them."


1. How many women have you had sex with? 2. How many were conscious? 3. Were any of them relatives? 4. Were all of them human? 5. How many positions have you tried? 6. What is your favourite position? 7. That's a bit perverted, isn't it? 8. Have you ever kissed your cousin? 9. Did he like it? 10. Have you ever watched your sister getting undressed? 11. Can I? 12. Have you ever had sex with a vegetable? (We won't count that thing with the carrot) 13. Did you interfere with yourself last Tuesday? 14. Will you interfere with yourself next Tuesday? 15. What is it with you and Tuesdays? 16. Have you ever tried on your girlfriend's underwear? 17. Was she wearing it at the time? 18. Are you well-endowed? 19. Who told you that? 20. You know she has bad eye-sight, don't you?

Your turn to get quizzed soon, girls.

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Professor Pete gives you indispensable advice on all your problems. BEASTLY Dear Pete, I have been married for almost three weeks and my Rupert has been beastly with me every night since we wed. My mother had warned me about this, but I had thought Rupert was too refined for such behaviour. However I have barely switched off the bedside lamp of an evening than he is clambering all over me with his salacious desires. Do you think this will continue or do men continue in this fashion till they are into their thirties? Lavinia Beaumont, Derbyshire Dear Lavinia, The beastliness of men knows no limits and until your Rupert finds some pastime which leaves him exhausted by bedtime you will have to endure his attentions. Encouraging him to take up manly pursuits which will sap his strength might hasten this. Suggest weight lifting. Pete ARMPITS Dear Pete, My boyfriend has told me that he wants to lick my armpits. Is this normal behaviour as I dont want to be going out with a pervert, even though I fancy him something rotten? Gemma, Cardiff Dear Gemma, You should congratulate yourself for having found a boyfriend who is a master of the erotic, for the armpit is a decidedly erogenous zone, though not many are aware of it. In fact it is said that Deirdre Postlethwaite once had her jollies merely by being tickled in that region. The tale, however, was told by her husband, Fred, who was a notorious liar and his claim has not been authenticated by the erotic academics. Keep me posted on developments. Pete BURNING Dear Pete, After many years as a feminist my wife has informed me that she is now a militant feminist. When I asked her what this entailed she informed me that she in no longer satisfied with burning her own bra but will now burn the bras of other women. I have a feeling she

will get into trouble with the law if she intends setting the local washing lines ablaze, but she is adamant she must free the boobies from their bondage. How can I dissuade her from this course of action? Dick Ingle, Wellington Dear Dick, If its only the washing lines youre in luck. Imagine the havoc she could cause if she was igniting the braziers of women while they were still wearing them. You could try telling her that the said busty bondage is self-inflicted and we male chauvinist pigs would be quite happy to see them untethered. Pete PUDDINGS Dear Pete, My boyfriend and I both like to have only two courses when he takes me out for dinner. However he likes a starter before his main course, whereas I like a sweet after my mains. The problem is, once he is finished he is eager to proceed to the bedroom and rushes me into finishing my meal quickly so I never really get to enjoy my food. How can I get him to stop this as I no longer look forward to dinner dates and I do miss my puddings. Clarice Rowntree, Plymouth Dear Clarice, As with most problems in relationships this is down to a lack of communication. Tell your boyfriend you are Getting it sweet for him and Im sure hell see the error of his ways and show more patience. Pete PILLAGING Dear Pete, I was at a friends wedding recently and wore a kilt in recognition of my Scots ancestry. The minute I stepped out of the car my friends told me I had made a big mistake as I did not have the legs of a Highland warrior If news of this gets out it could ruin my career as a female impersonator. What can I do? Craig Holey, New Jersey Dear Craig, You have nothing to worry about as many noted Highland warriors resorted to female impersonation to make a living when things were quiet on the raping and pillaging front. It is only a matter of retaining the illusion that one is a woman and this can easily be done by complaining about the price of groceries. Pete Write to Pete with your problems and hell solve them for you.



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In the kitchen, new chef Tommy was hard at work, opening packets of frozen steaks. He was a young, slight man, and some of the boxes were fighting back. Norma entered with an order. Check on. Two cheeseburgers and one steak pie, both with chips. Tommy gave a sigh and put down his knife. Is that all they eat in here, steak pie and burgers? Norma sympathised with his culinary ambitions but had to put him wise. Yeah, and sometimes both together. This is a very basic joint, Tommy, youd better get used to it. Tommy took the order slip from her and eyed it wearily. It wasnt like this in the navy. On my last boat the captain was mad for quiche. Tommy didnt have the look of a naval person to Normas experienced eye. I didnt know youd been in the navy. Tommy shuddered. Dont tell anyone, I dont want them starting the hullo sailor jokes. Anyway, its not easy making quiche on a submarine. Norma had no idea what quiche was but she knew her business. Well I can guarantee you nobodys going to order quiche in here. Philistines! was Tommys only response.

Out in the bar the bar owner, Joe, was building up a head of steam. The place is dead, and youve got too many staff on. Send the new girl home. But his manageress, Donna, had his measure and patted his hand gently. Thought Id start her off gently on a quiet day. Shes got to learn. So Im paying for her education now, Joe grunted. God I hate July. Students away home, people on holiday, months till Christmas and similar money-making opportunities. Whats a poor publican to do? How about a 70s night? Donna suggested. Joe looked suspicious, sensing expenditure. What does that entail? Well get a tribute band in, T-Rex or something. It was as Joe had expected. Expensive. But Donna knew his ways. We can charge for entry.

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Joe smiled with relief. Good. Donna spun her web with the mastery of a queen spider. Staff can all dress up in 70s gear. Flares, platform boots, glitter. Joe looked unconvinced and Donna sensed she was losing her prey. Mini skirts? She knew what her boss liked and Joes grin widened. We can go for a 70s style menu. Prawn cocktails, chicken in a basket and Black Forest gateau. Joe nodded, unaware that shed lured him into her trap. Good. Now Donna smiled and went in for the kill. And well charge 70s prices. Joe snorted in disbelief. Forget it! he growled before wandering off to the other end of the bar where barmaids, Norma, Rita and Susan were congregated. Awright, you guys, he said to his employees, it goes against the grain, but theres a twenty spot bonus to whoever comes up with an idea for a theme night thats going to make me a buck instead of costing me one. A Vicars & Tarts night, Susan trilled immediately. The thought didnt seem to impress Joe. Dont be silly, where are we going to find a vicar round here? he asked.

Meanwhile Donna was facing up to a customer who had obviously had one too many. I think youre beautiful, he said to her, his head lolling on his neck. I know, Donna replied calmly. Your eyes, your smile, everything, beautiful, the customer continued, pressing his case. Donna didnt seem over-impressed. I know. I want you to marry me, the customer decided emphatically. Youre drunk, time to go home, she said, taking his beer glass from him. The customers eyes widened in surprise. How can you say that? Because weve been married for two years, Willie. Go home.



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DNA from recently discovered fossilised modern woman, Mrs Elsie Breeder, of Leeds, looking forward to giving birth to the first hundred thousand years. "If it's a boy we will call him Ugh and if it's a home she shares with husband, Norman, The Breeders have been trying for a child twenty years ago and, despite trying IVF chance had gone. The man who carried out the treatment, "This experiment has been a success much more potent than the semen of not be a Neanderthal clone, as the child Breeder's DNA. It is hoped that it will have species. Skills in hunting and foraging, love for fast food." Mr Norman Breeder said, "It's all very the little bugger to shave and wipe his ass." well, but who's going to teach Prof. Frankensteiner, said, because Neanderthal DNA is modern humans. But this will will carry elements of Mrs the best elements of both for instance, together with a girl, Doris," she said at the last night. since they first got married treatment, thought their Neanderthal bones has been used to impregnate a England. She is now Neanderthal for several


EXCLUSIVE BY OZZIE BIN LADEN A Muslim revolutionary group are planning to use a troop of specially trained attack penguins in their war against the UK. "Our jihadis cannot cope with the cold," said spokesman Abu Ben Ghazi, "whereas penguins are not only used to the frozen temperatures in Britain but are also vicious killers, capable of inflicting a nasty nip when enraged.. They will be exported to zoos in Britain where they will form terrorsim cells and when the time is right the unbelievers will be crushed by these mighty sons of Allah." The penguins are currently training in camps at the Pakistan/Afghan border and most are already fluent in Arabic. "They are good Muslims," continued Ben Ghazi, "They do not eat pork or drink alcohol and the women wear the hijab. The only problem we have is with their diet, which is fish. There are not a lot of fish in this part of the world, due to the Christian devils diverting rivers away from our sacred lands." All zoos in Israel have been put on high alert and warned not to import penguins in case the terrorists extend their campaign to Jewish territory. "Salman Rushdie will never dare to go to a zoo again," gloated Ben Ghazi. The British military confirmed that their SAS had formed a special anti-penguin squad which was prepared to deal with this threat.

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by Jim Trousers "He was not used to this," Said Professor Von Hitler, New research has confirmed that Eva Braun bedded Adolf Hitler to death. The research, carried out by the Revisionist University of Berlin, claims that Braun, rather than being in love with the German dictator, was in fact a Soviet agent. "and she had been trained by the Soviets with secret uber erotic techniques of love-making. Three times she made him do it. Most men would not have survived one, but our Adolf soldiered on in the belief that it was his duty to roger his wife senseless. Finally, his noble heart gave out and he died." It seems that despite this, Braun had grown fond of Hitler, and once her mission on behalf of her NKVD (later KGB) masters was complete, she committed suicide with an arsenic suppository.

"It's true," sobbed Professor "I carry on the Fuhrer's unnatural practices with pride," Victor Von Hitler (no added the Professor, "There is not a day goes by relation), head of the Bogus History Department at the when I do not have my wife be very unnatural with University, "our Fuhrer was betrayed by the woman he loved. He did not commit suicide as has always been thought, but was assassinated by this Bolshevik hussy." The research found that though they had previously only practiced unnatural sex, the new Mrs Hitler insisted that they conduct matters on a more normal basis." me." The Professor went on to deny that Hitler was in fact in love with Italian fascist leader, Benito Mussolini. "He liked Benny," he admitted, "but they never consummated their relationship. Theirs was a masculine, buttock-clenching kind of relationship, and they only rarely resorted to mutual relief. But what a grip the Fuhrer had."


Glaswegian fast-food magnate, Ronnie MacDonald (no relation), has predicted that his latest culinary invention, the haggisburger, will revolutionise take-away eating throughout the world. "The haggisburger is coming," he declared proudly, "and will wipe the floor with fish and chips, curry, pizza and every other kind of fast-food out there. Haggis is tasty and nutritious and only makes you fart a wee bit. The recipe I'm using is a traditional haggisburger one, handed down through my family since last Tuesday." Fellow Glaswegian chef, Gordon Ramsay, famous for his foul-mouthed kitchen rants said, "F*** me, but Ronnie makes a mean haggisburger. I mean, f*** me, it's the best since Rabbie Burns gave up cooking and took up pottery." The haggisburger is not served on the traditional sesame-seed burger bun, but rather on a Scottish bannock made with barley flour and added concrete. "It's man food," Ronnie said, "The Scottish Highlanders of old, big brawny men that they were, would often have a haggisburger at the Highland games before they tossed their caber. I will be opening haggisburger joints throughout Europe, America and Asia, because I know your wee Japanese fella especially likes tossing his caber."


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 71

FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover had about the history of cross-dressing. One would be the plans to form a branch of the transdressrights who wore clothing appropriate for the organisation totally devoted to occasion and the other would be the transdresstights transvestite agents. In that way he who would wear figure-hugging dresses designed to hoped that the G-Men, so-called lure men into their clutches. Hoover was of the opinion because they were Government that no man could resist a shapely man in a sheer Men, would be also known as sheath dress. Girdle Men. Hoover, who himself liked to dress as a woman and be called Mary was suspected of having a relationship with his second-in-command Clyde Tolson. With the FBI he hoped to have a But

when it comes down to it he was a fat little shit and knew nothing He most
Pic by Laura Huusko

about fashion. made the

dedicated squad of men prepared to dress in womens clothing to further their crime-fighting efforts.

unconvincing woman since Golda Meier. He

thought gangsters and mobsters would be queuing up

There were actually two sections planned, said to bed his G-Men and he could get their secrets out of amateur TV historian, Bob Frock, who is writing a book them. He was not only a fruit, he was a fruitcake.


Exotic dancer Cynthia Goodbutt is planning to sue noted peeping-tom, Fred Ogle, on the grounds that he has been watching her undressing for bed through her bedroom window. Hes there very night, she claimed, with his nose pressed up against the glass. Its very distressing. I may be a stripper and reveal my body to men when Im working but hes invading my privacy. Shes only pissed because I wont pay 50 dollars to see her peel off in a club, Ogle commented, Shes good, but not worth 50. Id pay maybe five bucks to see both boobies. My body is my livelihood, Cynthia complained. I dont have any education or usable skills so I take off my clothes to feed myself and this dirty pervert is denying me my right to earn an honest living. I gotta right to check out the merchanidise, Ogle responded. If I thought she was worth it Id maybe pay the money to see her. But after checking her out 18 times Ive made a decision not to purchase what she has to offer. I am not a pervert, just a consumer with certain rights under the law. I accept that Mr Ogle has the right to sample what I have to offer, Cynthia said, but he can get that through the posters and leaflets advertising my appearances at the Blue Kitten Club in which I feature. They are not as revealing as my act but you have to leave something to the imagination. The leaflets dont move, Ogle added, Ya gotta see the stuff move or it aint worth it. She really moves when shes getting ready for bed, especially if its a cold night.


ADVERTISEMENT Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 72

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Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 73


Hollywood superstar, Mandy Cheesecake, has denied the nemesis of the robots, John Connor, being born. The machine breaks down and is nursed back to health by scientist Alf Einstein before joining the Allies and fighting against the Nazis in the Battle of the Bulge. There are certainly some CGI sequences,

reports that she did not actually appear in any scenes in the hit movie, Terminator: Back in the Repair Shop. Its true I used doubles in some scenes, she admitted, The kissing was done by Hot Lips Henderson, my body

Cheesecake continued, but thats inevitable in an SF movie. However thats mainly with the Terminator and not the human actors. I didnt attend acting school for three minutes and acquire a wealth of thespian experience not to appear in a film. Reports that I

double was Flora Cruise, my legs were by Harriet couldnt remember my lines are untrue. I didnt have Flower and my hands by Kim Loaner. My voice was that many lines anyway, mostly screaming as Im dubbed by soprano Lois Gudron but my names on the pursued by the robot. But I did have the love scene with marquee and my fans can be assured that I do actually Alf Einstein and told him that I was devoted to him. appear in the film. Its some of my finest work. In the film Cheesecake plays Susie Connor, Well, actually Lois said it, but I put my heart and soul into those lines because theyre pivotal to the plot. I will be appearing in a remake of The Invisible Woman next year. Or rather, I wont be, but thats okay because its in the script. grandmother of Sarah with the Terminator cyborg being sent further back in the timeline to stop any chance of

The incredible IT boom in India has led to the countrys for further sub-divisions as is seen in the case of young Hindus having to invent new castes. No longer are the Hari Ram Din, an IT graduate of Bangalore University. traditional divisions of priest, warrior or farmer sufficient While there he fell in love with Biryani Rai and the pair to cover the myriads of new occupations employing hoped to marry. But their plans were dashed when it Indias burgeoning middle-class digital elite. Now with jobs such as programmer, developer, and call-centre operator proving popular, new caste divisions are arising and bringing new problems. Caste was supposedly outlawed when India became independent in 1947 but its influence persists, especially where marriage within the caste system applies. Members of one caste may only marry members of the same caste. With over 1,000 computer


was discovered that Hari had majored in COBOL while Biryani was doing research work in Fortran. Their

parents forbade the union for breaking caste rules. I am heartbroken, wailed Hari, for Biryani was the love of my life. No longer will we spend long romantic evenings together picking through code. Though I respect my heritage these traditions are working against the best interests of India. Nonsense, said his mother, The union is doomed. It is like asking

programming languages this allows

Microsoft to marry Apple.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 74


Mrs Ethel Gullible has just bought a pair of 3D glasses and swears that they have made her life immeasurably better. Not only does it feel like things are right in front of me, I can actually reach out and touch them, she said last night. Theyre amazing. I didnt realise we could get 3D in the real world, just like in the movies, Mrs Gullible was sold the spectacles by Jim Shady, who has a string of convictions for fraud, but he denies that this is another one of his cons. Mrs Gullible is happy with the results and thats all that matters to me, he commented. The customer is always right and I stand by Mrs Gullibles right to see in 3D as a citizen of the free world.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 75



Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 76


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 77


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 78


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 79


Hey, Julie, guess what, I got a boyfriend.


Well, they all are. But I havent given in, Ive got my reputation to consider.


Omigawd! Omigawd! Is he a real one? What do you mean? Of course hes a real one. JULIE:

Too darn right, Shaz, a girls got nothing if she doesnt have her reputation.


I meant one you could kiss and stuff, not like a Facebook buddy. SHARON:

Course it would be different if I fell in love with him.


Oh yeah, Simons real. Hes going to be a dentist. JULIE:

You cant fall in love with Sleazy Simon, hes sleazy!


Oh. What do you mean, oh? Is he a ginger? Yes, my Simon does have red hair. Oh God, youve fallen for Sleazy Simon. SHARON: JULIE: SHARON: JULIE: SHARON: JULIE:

Its not the same guy, Im telling you. Whats his second name then? Sleeman, its Simon Sleeman. Bingo! Sleazy Simon Sleeman. Youre winding me up. Im not, I wouldnt do that to you, babes. I just dont want to see you getting hurt.


Hes not sleazy! A ginger, training to be a dentist, its Sleazy Simon.


There must be millions of guys with red hair training to be dentists.


Youre a real pal, Jules. Thanks, honey. Weve got to look out for each other.


Not all called Simon. You just dont want me to be happy. Thats rubbish, but that Simons got a terrible reputation with girls, he treats them terrible. JULIE: SHARON:

Course. And if Simons really a sleaze its only right you should tell me. A heart-breaker. Uses people. I knew one girl went out with him. He told her he loved her, treated her like a princess, took her out all the time, bought her stuff, a real sweety. But all the time he was only after one thing. And she didnt find out till it was nearly too late.


My Simons a sweetheart. Oh yeah, to start with, but then, like, he treats them like rubbish once hes had his evil way with them. Here, you havent


Course not, Ive only been going out with him a week.


Well, you just watch out and dont say I didnt warn you.


How long did you go out with him for then?


Hes been a bit pushy, mind.



Capricorn - December 22- January 20 Too much wine, Capricorn. Itll be the death of you. Try some vodka for a change. Mixes with anything just about.


Aquarius - January 21 February 19 Dont be a parasite. Pay your own way. Even if Chris owes you the money, thats no reason to punch him. Three months? Oh well, go ahead.

Pisces - February 20 March 20 Stilt walking should keep you busy between here and Easter. Remember Aunt Jenny has a bad hip so she cant take part.

Aries - March 21- April 20 Yodelling is not only an interesting pastime it can also help if youre stranded in a snow drift. John Wayne loved it.

Taurus - April 21- May 21 Your stars are aligned in a very strange position this month. Either that or my eyes have gone wonky. Tell you what, Ill go to the optometrist tomorrow.

Gemini - May 21- June 21 If your name is George youre in big trouble. The stars for all Georges are in revolt and nothing good can come of it. If youre married to a Doreen its even worse.

Cancer - June 22 July 23 Things are finally looking up for you as it looks like the drug therapy is going to work. Buy the nurses something nice,

Leo - July 24 August 23 Love-lorn Leo? Its not true, I just like saying it because its alliterative. Loser Leo is actually more like it.

Virgo - August 24 September 23 If a Frenchman tries to borrow money from you its okay. Hes my cousin and hes a bit short just now. I couldnt help him out so I passed him on to you.

Libra - September 24- October 23 My, you are in a sporty mood this month, Libra. Hoping to meet somebody special in the gym? Alarm bells!

Scorpio - October 24 November 22 Arson is not the answer, Scorpio. It will only create bad blood and possibly a vendetta which will last till your blood line is forever expunged from the face of the Earth.

Sagittarius - November 23 December 21 Good things are coming your way if you would only let down your defences a little. She wont bite. Well, just a little bit.

Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 81

Well, many years ago, during the days of the British


He tried to cool Sunitas jets but now she decided to show him her passionate side, letting him fondle her ankle bells and similar liberties. In a panic Willie secretly arranged to emigrate to Australia immediately he was discharged from the army. Sunita was heartbroken, but her twelve brothers vowed to help. We will go to this Britain place and find your Willie, they said, and we will not return until we have found him. Of course, while in the UK and hunting high and low for Willie, they had to earn a living. Lucky then, that they were all master chefs and the easiest way to make a crust was to open an Indian restaurant.

Raj in India a diminutive Scottish soldier called Willie was serving his time in the jewel of the Empire. Now, Willie was a bit of a socialist and didnt really agree with imperialism and running around in a red coat, shouldering the white mans burden. As far as he was concerned the white mans burden was the white woman he might have been a socialist, but he was still a bit of a sexist. He had witnessed the terrible drubbings the women of Britain inflicted on their husbands and was determined to find himself a more temperate wife while out east. Something comfortable and easy to start in the morning, like a Volkswagen. As luck would have it, Sunita, a girl in the local village where Willie was stationed, took a shine to him and started fluttering her eyelashes at him like it was going out of fashion. Wasting no time. Willie set about wooing her, which wasnt easy as neither spoke the others language. The best Willie could do was run up behind her and shout Woo! In her ear as she cooked him the finest curry hed ever eaten. After the relationship had been going for a while Willie tried for some pre-marital manoeuvres, but Sunita soon let him know there would be none of that before there was a ring on her finger. As she couldnt tell him verbally she had to inform him physically, and this caused Willie to walk with a limp for weeks. It was this which convinced Willie that women were the same the world over and he wanted nothing to do with them.



Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 82

In the early 1940s John Betjeman wrote a beautiful poem called A Subalterns Love Song which perfectly captured a time, a place and an emotion. But we at Amock cant leave it at that. Weve moved it to the present day and shifted it to Glasgow, a very different milieu from Betjemans leafy Surrey. A SUBALTERNS LOVE SONG Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament - you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won, The warm-handled racket is back in its press, But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less. Her father's euonymus shines as we walk, And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk, And cool the verandah that welcomes us in To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin. The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath, The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path, As I struggle with double-end evening tie, For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I. On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts, And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports, And westering, questioning settles the sun, On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall, The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall, My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair And there on the landing's the light on your hair. By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways, She drove to the club in the late summer haze, Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, I can hear from the car park the dance has begun, Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band! Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand! Around us are Rovers and Austins afar, Above us the intimate roof of the car, And here on my right is the girl of my choice, With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice. And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said, And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead. We sat in the car park till twenty to one And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. A SUB-HUMANS LOVE SONG Big Agnes McCunn, Big Agnes McCunn, Pale and anaemic frae Glasgows grey sun, What enthralling darts we played efter tea, Us in the tournament - you against me. One twent, one eighty, you jammy wee git, The shape o a jukebox. Wi lovely big bits, Wi cheatin an swindlin, lucky ye won, Ahv ferr got the hots fur ye, Big Agnes McCunn. Big Agnes McCunn, Big Agnes McCunn, Ahv right got the boak wi ye, mad that ye won, The wee tungsten darts are back in their box, But ma red-heided winner, is mair than a fox. Her auld mans wee dug we take fur a walk, An haung roon the dunny, an hiv a wee talk, Its doon tae the pub then, wi plenty o cheers, Tae fitba oan the telly an a couple o beers. The scent o the lavvy, sound o the drains, The view frae ma bedsit is doin ma brains, As I struggle wi chinos an gettin a crease, Fur were aff tae the dancin, tae wiggle wur knees. Oan the flair o her bedroom lie knickers an tights, And the nicky stained walls are strangers tae light, An headin fur Ireland, there goes the sun, Through yer single-glazed windaes, Big Agnes McCunn. The fast black is waiting, hes blawin his horn, Her posters o Elton are really quite worn, Ma darlin, ahm staunin dead still oan the flair, An oan the hauf landin theres some grey in yer hair. By roads, not discovered, through tenement hell, We drove tae the dancin no feelin too well, Intae the city, thats covered wi snaw, This summers the worst, that I ever saw. Big Agnes McCunn, Big Agnes McCunn, Ah can hear frae the gutter the dancins begun, Oh! Glasgow at midnight, a right fearsome place! Oh! strangely attractive dart girls baw face! Aroon us ur motors both stolen and not, Ah touched her broad shooder an asked for a shot, She grabbed me quite fiercely, an awesome embrace, An wi passionate lips, sooked plukes aff ma face. An the smell o her oxters, the promise o bed, Or a rapid knee trembler just oot in the shed, Ah gave her the business till twenty past wan, An noo ahv bin captured by Big Agnes McCunn.


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 83


Honda are to use their innovative Asimo robots as a door-to-door salesmen. "This is an ideal function for the machine," said spokesman Yoshiro Tanaka, "as the mental capacity of the average salesman is achievable in the limited capacity we are able to insert into the mechanism." The robots will be dropped off in a suburban area and programmed to visit every house. The product range and sales-pitch will also be pre-

programmed with sub-programmes available for sales resistance." "I think we've thought of everything," added Tanaka, "If the customer says they can't afford the item, Asimo will offer them credit facilities. If they say they don't need it, Asimo will show them how it will benefit their lives. It all makes perfect sense, especially for the company selling the products as Asimo does not expect any commission payments. This can be translated as an extra profit for the company or a lower price for the customer" The Asimo can be used across the planet as it can have different language and cultural modules installed to suit its environment. Plans to include the normal salesman's perk involving housewives, have been shelved for the moment. "Mechanically it would be simple," concluded Tanaka, "But there would be no emotional fulfilment for the housewife. So, coffee drinking is out."


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 84


Two new words will have to be added to the Olympic motto of Faster, Higher, Stronger and they are Louder and Longer. For these are the requirements of competitive farting which has just been accepted as the newest Olympic sport. British Farting Association chairman, Reg 'Thunderclap' Henderson explained the requirements of the new sport at the hermetically sealed British Farting Centre in Birmingham. "To be an Olympic farter you need to be loud and long. Decibels and duration are what it's all about. Smell doesn't come into it. In any case the judges wear gas masks these days and the actual judging is actually down to the sound meter and the stop watch." "It's an exciting challenge but I don't see much of a challenge emerging from British farters to the established masters. Turkey must be the favourites for gold. China can
Thunderclap prepares for marathon.

be loud but they don't have the stamina for a record breaking fart, though their women are strong. The African nations may pose a challenge if they can improve their training facilities, but the western nations generally, where farting is frowned upon, will have to wait a long time before they produce a farter of consequence."

Hollywood star Marilym Monroe is to be awarded a posthumous Oscar, it was announced yesterday. It is for Outstanding Performance by an Actress Underneath a Fat Producer, and she narrowly beat fellow nominee, Rock Hudson, to the Award. Monroe, of course, famously committed suicide by singing Happy Birthday to President John F. Kennedy badly. Fans were delighted at the news and President of the Marilyn Monroe Society, Bert Sadcase, said, "She thoroughly deserves this, as she sweated and struggled under many fat producers to produce her art. This was common in the days of the casting couch. I'm sure she's looking down and smiling." On similar lines, Marilyn's first film 'Personal Hygiene For Girls', a Health Dept. short has set off a frenzied bidding war between studios who want the distribution rights, which are currently owned by the Government. But producer Hymie MacDonald only wants the script rights as he plans a big budget remake starring a current Hollywood star. "We are in talks with Charlize Theron," he admitted, "but she is insisting on a body double due to the strenuous nature of the role. Theron's body is the only sticking point. We have already cast a bar of soap and our location people are checking out bath tubs."
Pic by manitou2121



Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 85


Todd McKay, 23, had a double dose of luck when, after winning $181 million in the lottery he met and instantly fell in love with model and aspiring actress, Fifi Le Bonbon. "It was sheer chance," said Todd, "I was in a bar with my friends celebrating, and the champagne was flowing when this beautiful girl walked by and I was smitten. What are the chances of a fat schmuck like me getting a doll like Fifi." "Todd is my soul-mate," said Fifi, "and we were meant to be together. I don't want people to get the wrong idea and think I'm some kind of gold-digger, because I'm a deeply spiritual person and only put out on the third date. The money means nothing to me, though Todd is very generous and has already bought me a mansion, a car, and a couture wardrobe. I think he's cute and we're definitely getting married." "My mom warned me that women would be chasing me now that I'm rich," concluded Todd, "but you can tell just from looking at Fifi that she's not that kind of girl. Hell, she's still a virgin."


Victoria McZombie of Vermont has had a death-ray installed in her head. This was made possible "This really hands power back to the people," said Dr Ralph Inventor, of the team which inserted the deadly device in Victoria's dome. "Victoria can now annihilate an M1 tank at 500 yards." But Victoria is looking for more peaceful uses for her new accessory. "It takes a bit of practice controlling the ray," she commented, "but I can now cook the perfect roast. Crisp on the outside but pink in the centre, and it only takes seconds. Once I'm married I won't need a hob, an oven, a grill or a microwave. I'll do all my cooking with my trusty death-ray. I'm trying to focus the beam enough to allow me to light candles too, but so far I've only following research which indicated that neural energy, generated by the brain, was powerful enough to pulverise steel. managed to melt a partition wall." "And the brass candle-holders," added fiancee Chris Nervous.

Criticism that the research subjects were all from the suburbs of Rome and were therefore capable of speaking Italian anyway, were dismissed. Yes, my brother, Rico was among the test subjects, Tomasini admitted, but he is barely literate and used to communicate through a series of grunts. Now he can sing many football chants. And no, before you ask, he did not eat pasta before the experiment. addicted to Chinese food. The Bogus Institute were last in the news when they Researchers have discovered that eating a nations predicted that the Y2K bug would make refrigerators cuisine can help you learn that countrys language. They explode. put 40 volunteers on a strict pasta diet for a week and at the end of it found that all could speak fluent Italian. It was a glitch in our system, Tomasini admitted, It should have been washing machines, and only twin Noodles could help you speak Chinese, said Chief tubs. My mothers exploded, honest. It is outrageous Researcher, Luigi Tomasini, at the Bogus Institute in to assert that I am only making these claims to get more Rome, and snails could have you speaking French. research funds for the Institute. If we wanted more Its a remarkable discovery and one that came as a total money wed open a restaurant and give language surprise. No-one had made the connection between lessons. diet and language skills before. He was


A strange vampire is attacking and biting the residents of Lubbock, Texas. It is believed to be one of the undead relatives of Count Dracula of Transylvania. But its strangest attribute is that it bites its victims on the buttocks rather than the neck. "It is ein assbiter," said legendary vampire hunter, Professor Van Helzing. "They are a rare sub-species of the vampire breed which gets its nourishment from the rich blood which flows through the buttock region of living humans. They are particularly attracted to young women, as am I. But the Texans have nothing to fear. They do not need garlic bulbs or crucifixes to defeat the hell-spawn, merely to sleep face up."


Amock: Comedy Compendium/Page 87

Were sure you know that theres no such thing as a free lunch and that things which are free are usually worthless. Were free to download, but wed like give you the chance to show your appreciation for our efforts. If you dont support us, Amock wont last long, and were sure youll want more. So, if you enjoyed our particular brand of nonsense and can afford it, do encourage us to continue by making a donation. Thanks.

I am a cheapskate and aint giving you nothing. You are dumbasses for putting this up for free. Hell, whats a dollar? More than worth it.


Please see the message from our colleague below. Unlike us he is not easily amused and doesnt like to be kept waiting.

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The ability to make people laugh is God-given and should be rewarded. The Dalai Lama


If youd like to donate any other amount please use the Donate button on the website page where you downloaded Amock.

Okay, lets talk about pain. You obviously enjoy it, cos youre really asking for it. One lump or two?


Your sister. How much? Embroidery. How Real men do It. How To Kill With A Paperback. Gay Iron Man = Tinned Fruit Is Custard an Aphrodisiac? Nose hair - why women love it. Dolphin graduates college - but takes 10 years. The Great White - Your friend. Blondes fart more - the science behind the myth.


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