Archive for the ‘Humour’ Category


“Martha! Where’s my bloody Ballot Papers?!”

A ‘Drunk But Bored’ production for AnvilEntz.

Anvil Springstien.


Royals fall for Holy Water Scam

The British Royal Family admitted this week to being duped after buying so-called Holy Water from the Jordan River – a river in Jordan, which is a country – for the sacrificial-wetting of latest royal addition, blond, Princess Charlotte, aged not one yet.

The water reputed to have been used to sacrificially wet suedo-fictional character, Hey-Zeus Christos (pronounced Gee-suss by some and Yeah-shoo-aah by others who speak different languages) has been sold by unscrupulous dealers for many years and can be bought at source or online from shadowy venders such as Gumtree and eBay for as little as £3.13 (plus £5.69 shipping) – although an accompanying Certificate of Authentification holy waterattaining to uncut full-strength holy water can raise this to as much as £21.33 for less than 600mls.

Although used to encourage miracles or the good favour of Gods, Holy Water from the River Jordan is not suitable for drinking.

Hey-Zeus and Holy Water from the River Jordan first came to prominence following the success of Hollywood blockbusters ‘Space Jew’, and ‘Space Jew II – the Re-Awakening’. Both movies, loosely based on two earlier books, chart the story of a powerful alien who travels to earth using the vagina of a middle-eastern teenager as a ‘Star Gate’. Following a period of transitioning from a small brown Arab boy into a, blond haired, blue-eyed white guy, Hey-Zeus bursts on to the scene with a magic-act that stuns popular local competition, Galilee’s Got Talent.

Top of His Game

Jesusblond blue eyesDuring a nation-wide tour, and at the top of his game, Hey-Zeus meets another man called John who has a failing riverside career persuading people to gain the attention of deities by getting themselves and their clothes wet. Hey-Zeus befriends John, uses his ‘re-birth’ facility, causing a massive turn-around in John’s business fortunes which is seen as a miracle by the Jordanian Chamber of Commerce.

From there the story unfolds into a Machiavellian tale of hatred, betrayal, and the unrequited love of one man for twelve others, spoiled, many critics admit, by an overly complex ending where Hey-Zeus, descending into apparent Freudian madness, believes he has been sent to earth by himself to sacrifice himself to himself in order to an appease himself for his own anger at the actions of two long dead earthlings who no-one on earth knew.

Hey-Zeus Lives!

Complexity aside, the franchise has become at least as popular as Pokémon and has generated almost as many street-sayings as Terminator, or The Matrix – and although “I shall return” and “Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?” hardly compete with “I’ll be back” or “You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes“, it has achieved almost mythic status amongst its followers, so much so that Hey-Zeus is seen at least as often as Elvis, be it on toast, in chip-shops, or emblazoned across the backside of a dog.


This very success has created a burgeoning souvenir industry that many feel is taking advantage of unwary high-profile fans such as the Royals culminating in an increased incidence of sacrificial-wetting by the feckless poor, which in turn has the effect of severe environmental degradation to the River Jordan itself – once a major river of almost biblical proportions, now a mere muddy trickle of brown water and sewage.


Environmental considerations aside, a spokesperson who refused to be associated with the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason & Science said, ‘This is child-abuse. Surely Princess Charlotte, blonde, aged not one yet, should be allowed to grow up and watch these movies for herself before deciding to be sacrificially-wetted. No-one is born a fan of these movies, for goodness sake!’.

Another spokesperson, unconnected with Buckingham palace, said the Royals were unaware they were doing anything wrong until suspicions about the quality of the water purchased first arose when Prince Charles noticed it wasn’t even carbonated.

In other news a family of nine from Luton, England, thought initially to be on holiday in Mecca, have reportedly crossed from Turkey into the Middle Ages.

Anvil Springstien.

SPECIAL OFFER: ‘Tears of Saint Diana of Wales’ – coming soon (330ml & 750ml only). You can now bathe in the tears of Saint Diana of Wales (prices available on request). Some Beans available now.

Tragedy Plus Time

Posted: June 12, 2015 in Comedy, Humour, Science, Stuff
Tags: , ,

#(T+t)=C  #TragedyPlusTime

You know you shouldn’t, but…

It is often said that the formula for Comedy is nothing greater than Tragedy Plus Time. So, following this morning’s fortuitous recording of the tragic beating of a six year old child by a member of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces, I decided to put this to the test.

In the interest of full disclosure and to remove an unwanted variable I should add that whilst I have since discovered the little Maisie suffered no long term effects from her ordeal, I was unaware of this at the time.


(for the experiment the acquisition of ‘C’ is defined as the production of Laughter where ‘C+’ is defined as Laughter plus an involuntary bodily function such as the excretion of a little bit of wee.)

I initially timed this out @ +0.1.2586 seconds.

I then waited exactly ten (0.10.0000) seconds before donning a white lab coat and watching the video again.

Acquiring ‘C’ @ +0.0.3572 seconds, and ‘C+’ @ +0.0.10892, soiling said lab coat.

Thanks for giving us a laugh, Maisie. I hope you got lots of sweets, and an Xbox.


Anvil Springstien.


Should’ve gone to Specsavers

A Mountain Spirit in Malaysia took exception to tourists who stripped naked for a photograph and urinated indiscriminatelypictures_showing_foreigners_stripping_off_for_a_photo_on_mount_kinabulu_posted_to_facebook_E1 on a mountain top. The Mountain Spirit, who was not available for comment, responded with a 5.9 earthquake which destroyed property and killed 18 unconnected people.

Local politicians, keen to point out the real perpetrators following the earthquake, demanded a nationwide search for the holiday-makers who were reportedly still in the country.

Most have now given themselves up to police with only two left ‘on the run’.

A tribal leader in the region has demanded payment of ten water buffaloes (male or female) to placate the angry Mountain Spirit, and has graciously offered to ‘look after’ the offering after pointing out that the Mountain Spirit has no hands, “… or legs, or even a head”, he added.

Deity Rage.

The incident is yet another in a long list of errors by deities that have had catastrophic implications for completely innocent people. Gay men in Los Angeles were apparently to be smitten with a tsunami in 2011 for putting the ‘pee pee thing near the poo poo thing’. The tsunami eventually struck thousands of miles away in Indonesia.

The small British town of Carlisle was submerged by a great flood in 2007, again due, according to an informed bishop, to Gayers and a small amount of Lesbianity. Thousands lost their homes and possessions, though a later Pew Poll showed that residents of Carlisle had never even heard the word ‘gay’ and had only seen a black person once, on TV.

Eats Babies

Deity Rage Victim, or Inner-Ear infection?

Arch villain and known baby eater, Richard Dawkins, was unavailable for comment following an ‘incident’ at Sao Paulo airport, Brasil. However a spokesperson pretending to speak for him said, in a rather passable accent, “Who do these Deities think they are? For goodness sake!

At present no deity has claimed responsibility for the Sao Paulo incident, though colleague and friend, professor Lawrence Krauss, ‘chick-lit’ author of the bestselling thriller, ‘It Came Out of Nowhere‘ was overheard to say the very accuracy of the smite suggested no metaphysical involvement whatsoever.

The Pope, at a loose end whilst waiting for president Putin to finish looking at gay porn, said, “Hey, somebody pisses on you in an indiscriminate manner, you gonna’ kill a few folk. It’s only natural.

In other news, shares in water buffalo soared.


Pakistan Ready to Kick Off!

Pakistani Minister for Tourism, Sport & Religious Obedience, Mr Syed Mumtaz Alam Gillani, has said in a statement earlier today that Pakistan is ready to step in and co-host the World Cup with Afganistan should FIFA or other relevant authorities find fault with the 2018 or 2022 bids.

Mr Syed Mumtaz Alam Gillani stated that Pakistan has the infrastructure and stadia already in place and could rapidly remove gallows and lay new turf at a moment’s notice.

A member of the Quatari Football Association, who wished to remain anonymous, questioned Pakistan’s ability to host the competition pointing to its backlog of over 8,000 awaiting executions. Countering this Mr Syed Mumtaz Alam Gillani said that most had already ‘exhausted their appeals process [whilst others] … could be rushed through’.

Meanwhile, President Putin assured Pakistan that they had “nothing to fear” from a Russian invasion even if such an invasion was to occur.

In other news, members of the Westboro Babtist Church head for Canada under the banner ‘God Hates Women Footballers’.

A spokesperson for Isis said they are “considering their position’.

Mel Brooks’ ‘The Producers’

Original Direction & Choreography Susan Stroman

Directed by Matthew White

Empire Theatre. Sunderland. United Kingdom. 14th May 2015


Aristotle once wrote:  “One swallow does not a summer make…” This morning I went theproducersIntacross the road for a sly fag – I’m not allowed to smoke in the house, see, (I’m not allowed up on the furniture, either) – only to see not one but two swallows hunting insects on the wing. A brief burst of the joy of life swelled in my chest to be quickly replaced by the rattle of a coughing fit.

I smiled. Aristotle’s intent was to opine on the fact that a momentary flash of happiness does not necessarily make for a happy man. I concur. I’ve been fairly unhappy recently – more so since the British general election where I observed another proverbial bird not only voting for Xmas in their droves but happily mixing-up and applying their own stuffing.

Proof, if ever it was needed, that given massive amounts of money and control of the agenda, you can persuade the most normal of people to do the most stupid of things.

Still, I appreciated the glow provided by the swallows, so fuck you, Aristotle! I’m happy for the moment and I intend to stay that way for as long as possible.

I’ll admit though, that, swallows aside, my joy-pump had been primed previously by a visit, last night, to the Sunderland Empire to see Stroman and Whites production of Mel Brooks’ ‘The Producers’ – and quite frankly I’ve been buzzing ever since.

Brooks’ wonderful creation has an enduring appeal to successive generations, perhaps holding greater resonance just now both due to recent events commemorating the 70th anniversary of the end of the Second World War and the intolerance of fundamentalists to criticism of their ideas exemplified in the Charlie Hebdo massacre and the rise of Islamic State.

Neither of these were at the forefront of my mind as I took my seat for Saturday evenings performance and cracked open a tub of popcorn. As I said, I’ve not been particularly happy lately and was looking forward to a bit of a chuckle. For the first fifteen minutes that, unfortunately, is all I got.

You may recall the story: Max Bialystock, a failed Broadway producer, employs an accountant, Leo Bloom, who notices an anomaly in the books whereby a show that closed after its opening night on Broadway could make more money than one that had a successful run. Bloom, after an internal tussle with his conscience is persuaded to partner Bialystock to produce Broadway’s greatest failure making them both rich beyond their wildest dreams.

Now, generally, setting up the narrative that leads to the inciting incident – in this case the decision to implement the fraud – can be a slow and painful process for many plays. The director has to give the impression of plodding normality whilst secretly developing character and racing to get to the moment where the world turns upside down so s/he can get on with expressing the real reason for the performance – telling the story, telling what happened next.

‘The Producers’ doesn’t suffer from this, yet… the first 15 to 20 minutes were missing something?

Quite what was missing I wasn’t too sure? Not initially at least: The dialogue was snappy; the narrative easy to follow; the song and dance routines brilliantly performed and choreographed. Perhaps we were all in a state of shock at the incredible singing ability of Leo Bloom (played by comedian, Jason Manford)? Whatever the reason the overly polite and somewhat forced applause from the three–quarter-full house following each routine said that they were eager for something more.

They got it with the entrance of Ross Noble. Ross plays Franz Liebkind, ex-Nazi stormtrooper, pigeon-fancier, and author of the worst-play-in-the-world: ‘Springtime for Hitler’. Aficionados will recall the scene where Liebkind is visited in his pigeon-loft by Bialystock and Bloom as they attempt to secure the rights to his play. From the moment the German-helmet-wearing Franz turns and manically faces the house (Noble gets a huge cheer at this) it becomes obvious what the production has been missing so far: the explicit involvement of the audience. Noble, after a six-month tour of his latest comedy show, can’t help, however subtly, acknowledge, and play to, the audience. The audience in its turn acknowledged that we knew that he knew that we knew that he knew, etc’. In that instant the Fourth Wall came crashing down, the audience visibly relaxed, and this stage production of The Producers became what all stage productions of The Producers secretly long to be – a grand British pantomime of high camp.

From that moment on I barely had time to catch my breath. Tears were constantly being brushed from my cheeks as the audience applauded, hooted, hollered, and laughed out loud. The intermission came and went and we seamlessly, and joyously, picked up where we left off. Scene by scene flew past as stunning performances fell effortlessly from the entire cast as we romped towards the climactic – and spectacular – Broadway showing of ‘Springtime for Hitler’. A truly amazing scene replete with giant hydraulic arms that rise from the wings in a Brobdingnagian Nazi salute, worthy of a standing ovation all of its own. [click image to enlarge]Producers

It would be inappropriate to mention the beautiful performances of David Bedella as Roger De Bris, or Stephane Anelli’s wonderful Carmen Ghia, or the colossus that was Cory English as Max Bialystock, or Tiffany Graves’ ‘Ulla’, or Jason Manford’s voice – yes, it really does have to be heard to be believed – without bringing your attention to the inch perfect, pitch perfect display of the entire Ensemble. May they never, ever, rest.

Simply put, ‘The Producers’ has to be the funniest thing I’ve seen in years – trust me, I’m not a Doctor.

Okay, there was that first fifteen minutes, but maybe this was down to my comedic bias expecting Manford to play to the room when perhaps the development of Bloom’s meek character was more important? There was also a moment, in the later prison-scene during the denouement, where Noble, now in a wheel-chair due to two broken legs, does nothing more than move across the stage. An opportunity missed for the popular character to say au revoir to the audience? Perhaps. I certainly think so.

Whatever, none of this detracted from the sheer joy of this production. A joy that lays out and then transcends the lesson that tragedy plus time always equals humour, and that stupid ideas are always deserving of ridicule.

This is a truly great show and one that shouldn’t be missed.

So, can one show a summer make? Most definitely. Had Aristotle been at the Sunderland Empire on Saturday, he’d still be pissing himself with laughter. United Kingdom residents feeling particularly depressed following the General Election should make this performance an essential part of your recovery.‘The Producers’ will keep you feeling happy for weeks on end and should be made available on the NHS.

Kill for a ticket – Unlike Hitler, you won’t regret it.

Anvil Springstien.

Rating: Four and a half anvils


Website, Tickets, and Tour Dates:

pics ©