Monthly Archives: April 2016

Mad-Ass Hussein: The Despotic Whitechapel Motor Vehicle Technician You Can Trust — SOZ SATIRE

Originally posted on The Whitechapel Whelk: “I’ll have a look at it guvnor but it’ll cost you a long un just to open the bonnet” Dear Mad-Ass I recently bought my daughter an old BMC Mini from an auction which is now her pride and joy. It runs beautifully for such an old vehicle apart…

via Mad-Ass Hussein: The Despotic Whitechapel Motor Vehicle Technician You Can Trust — SOZ SATIRE

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Syrian Doctor Bemoans “Terrible Year for Dead Celebrities”


A rescuer gives succour to a wounded youngster in Aleppo yesterday afternoon


A doctor at a hospital in the beleaguered town of Aleppo in Syria spoke of his grief last night as he struggled to come to terms with the death of music legend,  Prince, who passed away at his home yesterday, aged 57.

Cradling the broken body of a 3-year-old girl, killed just hours earlier in a government forces airstrike, Dr Ahmood Analfisi, 22, broke down repeatedly as he spoke of the latest addition to the steady procession of celebrities that have died since the beginning of the year.

“It was bad enough when Lemmy out of Motorhead was so cruelly taken from us” he said, blinking back tears. “Then it was that bloke out of The Eagles, followed by David Bowie, and, perhaps, most devastating of all; Grizzly Adams! How I’m going to break the news that Prince has now been taken from us to the kids in the intensive care unit I just do not know. We lost 20 yesterday after a heavy bombardment from Daesh forces on a local school, with another 60 or so badly wounded. In view of the tragic news about Prince, maybe those kids who didn’t make it were the lucky ones”

In other news, an estimated 400 migrants fleeing Afghanistan were drowned in The Aegean Sea. This comes just 4 months after Justin Bieber told distraught fans that he had a bit of a cold coming on.

The League of Mental Men is now defunct. Join the remnants of us here for more upbeat fun and frolics:



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The Battle of Waterloo: An Everyday Story of Slaughtering Folk


“Go to it my brave boys! I want at least three pubs named after me by sunset!”

Explosive prose by Sir Garfield Hoadley DSO & Public Bar. Incendiary editing by Lord Dee of Cliveypops (Mrs)
Sunday 18th June 1815.
The French attack Wellington’s Army at Mont-Saint-Jean.
One hundred cannon blast the Belgian road. Wellington is roused from his bed.
“Sir! The French are attacking with cannon”.
“Get my horse”.
“What flavour sir?”
“The sauce sir”.
“Horse Jones! Horse!”.
“Yes Sir”.
Wellington rides up the Belgian road to
Ohain road. He spots that Napoleon is moving
Lancers to his right. 
“Tell the infantry to use the reverse slope defence”.
“Which one sir?”
“Which what?”
“Which fence do you want them to mend sir?”
“Slope defence Jones! Are you mad man!”
“No Sir, it’s the cannon sir”.
“They are noisy buggers”.
Wellington finds an Elm tree in the middle of 
Brussels Road. This would be his command post
for most of the day.
“Take a message to the Scots Greys Jones”.
“Yes Sir”.
“Double to the flank”.
“There’re not open on a Sunday sir”.
“The bank sir”.
“What are you talking about Jones?”
“The Scots Grey’s sir”.
“The flank Jones, the flank!”.
“Yes Sir”.
Napoleon now orders an attack on Hougoumont.
Wellington counters with infantry and cavalry.
“Tell Uxbridge to send in the First Brigade”.
“We don’t have one sir”.
“Fire Brigade sir”.
“Household Jones! Household Brigade”.
“Right ho Sir”.
Jones returns gasping for breath. He has lost his 
horse and sustained a wound to his arm.
“What happened Jones?”
“Caught in the cross fire sir”.
“How many dead?”
“About thirty loaves ir”.
“For god’s sake Jones, sort those ears out!”
“Where are they sir?”
“The spears sir”
“Ears! Jones, ears!”.
Wellington’s Anglo army has taken a beating. Over the 
Horizon come the Prussians. Napoleon has now retreated
to a small square. The end is in sight. After a wave of 
heavy cavalry charges, all is lost and Napoleon defeated.
Wellington lights a cheroot. 
“Is that it sir, is it over?”.
“Yes Jones, we are victorious”.
“What will happen to Napoleon?”
“He will be exiled”.
“Where to sir”.
“St Helena”.
“I think he would prefer Wigan sir”.
A gunshot pierces the calm of the night air.


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