Monthly Archives: May 2016

Beef & Onion

meat pie
Beef and Onion. A One Act Play by Lady Garfield Hoadley of the Lake
The Scene: A run down office. Nicotine stained walls, decorated with long
lines of dried up condensation. A threadbare carpet, that once had a pattern.
Beneath the only window, a Royal Oak desk, sits waiting to be polished.
And from the flaking ceiling, hangs a yellow light bulb, ready to go pop!.
Mr Treadle, sits behind his desk. The two strands of hair, covering his 
polished bald head, appear to be trying to escape, down the unwashed
neck, that is supporting, the round fat face, now turning red with rage…
“Look, I make, meat pies…My father, made meat pies…His father, 
made meat pies…And his fathers father made meat pies, and you my lad,
are going to make meat pies”
Mr Treadle, is addressing his son, Treadle junior. The poor boy, stands,
like a man condemned, in front of the unpolished desk, trying to avoid the
sputum, that is being projected from his fathers ranting orifice.
“But father, I don’t…”
“Nay, lad, Treadles have been making pies for hundred years an more,
and you, my boy, will take up mantle, when I retire…”
“But I have other ideas father…More creative ambitions”
“More creative thar knows! An what, is more creative, than Treadles,
beef an onion meat pie feast? That crust, was created, with mothers bare 
hands, when she were dying of Anthrax, during war”
“Grandmother died in her sleep, after consuming two bottles of gin, father”
“That’s as maybe, my lad, but without mothers recipe, treadles would not
be here today. And, you would not have attended best school in north of
England, Queen were going to send her Charlie to Black Coal Grammar,
but press got wind, and that were that…”
“I am adamant, I shall not make meat pies…”
“Oh!…Mr high an mighty, and what shall thee do? Be president of some
mamby pamby office in big city, clean up in financial markets, or will thee
take on might of conglomerate?…All ninny white wash dreams lad”
“Actually, father, with the money Grandmother left me, I intend to open
a small factory, making ladies underwear…”
At this point, Treadle senior, falls out of his office chair, landing on the worn out carpet, with a loud thud. He then gets to his feet, leaning over the unpolished desk.
“Bludy hell! Did I hear thee right?…Did you say making ladies unmentionables…”
“Yes father, and I intend to design a whole new range…”
“Hold on, only pansies and poofters make them sort of things…Are thee telling me,
that you have become light footed? Limp wristed, a florist?!”
“None of those father, and what is more, I intend to leave the confines of Crusty
Hall, and take an apartment in town, where I shall be free of your overbearing,
bigoted, self opinionated boring voice…”
“I see…So now you have a bit of brass, mother and I are not good enough for thee.
Not, posh enough, haven’t got huge plums in gob, and what next, I suppose thee 
will be wearing long scarf round neck, and carrying leather case in hand like some
southern poofter from city of London…Well let me tell thee lad…”
The office door opens, and in walks Mrs Treadle. A rotund woman with a beetroot
red face, large hairdo, and an exaggerated limp…
“What’s to do?…I can here you shoutin odds from factory floor our Bernard”
“It’s him Aida, that lad there, he wants to be a Florist…”
“Is that right lad? And when did thee decide to become limp?”
“I am not becoming a Florist mother, I am opening a lingerie factory in Bolton”
“Not while father and me are on planet my boy! Treadles is meat pies and nowt
else…Eeee, you kids today, always wanting to be something different”
“That’s what I told him, Aida, meat pies is meat pies an always will be”
“He’s been reading Country Life again, Bernard…get doctor on phone”
“I don’t need a doctor, or read Country Life, I am going it alone, so there”.
The Treadle parents, stand open mouthed. What next?


Filed under Humour

Outcry as Whitechapel MP is Caught Masturbating in Parliament



Mr Dankworth-Carter’s dog pictured outside his home yesterday



There were calls for tighter controls on MP’s behaviour in The House of Commons yesterday as Speaker John Berkow, had to remonstrate with a conservative MP who was masturbating during a debate on the common agricultural policy.

The MP in question, Toby Dankworth-Carter, the member for Whitechapel East, was also picked up on camera, looking red-faced and furtive with his right hand down the front of his trousers.

Mr. Dankworth-Carter, married with 4 children, later defended his actions; telling reporters he was “bored” and wanted to “clear his tubes” before visiting his girlfriend later that evening.

Opposition leader, Jeremy Corbyn, condemned Mr. Dankworth-Carter’s conduct last night, calling it “unparliamentary” and showing “a lack of respect for the democratic process”. He called for Dankworth-Carter’s immediate deselection, stating that, “The Commons debating chamber is not the place to be blowing your custard”

Corbyn, who is currently under fire over perceived anti-Semitic leanings, looked visibly disappointed and stalked away from reporters after he was told that Dankworth-Carter is a Roman Catholic.

This is only the second time that a sitting MP has been involved in a self-abuse incident. The other occasion was in 1783, when, William Pitt The Younger – the then prime minister – was called to order by The Speaker after shooting his bolt over The Mace during an all-night debate on The Poor Laws.

For more tales of parliamentary indiscretions and scalding jizz, why not visit:

It’s a bit like this blog but with a bit more class…ish

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Filed under Satire

Trump and Clinton to Wed: A Whitechapel Whelk Exclusive

Running Mates: An adoring Hillary  smiles happily as Trump outlines plans to kick Mexican ass.


In a surprise announcement, Donald Trump, and Hillary Clinton have announced that that are getting married after the American presidential election in November.

The two presidential nominees visited The Whitechapel Whelk’s offices in East London yesterday, just hours after Mr. Trump had virtually secured his place as the presidential candidate for The Republican Party following the retirement of his two main rivals.

Holding hands and appearing blissfully happy, they posed for photographs, kissing and embracing constantly before telling us of their unlikely love.

Mr. Trump told us: “It all started for me just after Hillary’s husband Bill, admitted that Monica Lewinsky had noshed him off under the table in The Oval Office. I felt so sorry for Hillary and called her straight away. We started meeting and over time we fell deeply for each other. Loving her seemed like the most natural thing in the world.”

Hillary smiled and squeezed Trump’s hand as she revealed: “What Donnie says is absolutely true; although I have to say, I didn’t fall for Donald straight away. Basically, I was only sleeping with him to get back at Bill for allowing Monica to suck him off. But over time, my feelings for Donald changed and before I knew it, I’d fallen head over heels. I went out and bought a ring in January and ask him to marry me. I was the happiest woman in the world when he said he yes.

“Now, we don’t really care who gets to be president. Either way, we’re both going to be at The White House. I expect we’ll have our differences about thinks like nuking North Korea or persecuting the wetbacks, but at the end of the day, love conquers all and I know that we’ll be just fine”

This bombshell mirrors the revelation in 1963 that British Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, had secretly married President John F Kennedy in a civil ceremony in Golders Green, North London. They subsequently split after two years together following Kennedy’s constant complaints about Wilson smoking his pipe during sex.

You are HERE. We, on the other hand, are HERE:

Come and join us why doncha? 


Filed under Satire