Pervert art doll targets West London yoga babes

A young woman today described her horror at being attacked at home whilst in the middle of a solo home yoga session by a pervert art doll.

Amidts sobs, Debbie Chintzowitz, an account manager
from Chiswick, described her horror by reading from a carefully worded statement: "I was doing the 'cat' position, to stretch my lower back. Then I heard panting behind me, and a man-sized art doll was touching himself provocatively.

"He asked me if I could give him a 'happy finish' with some sandpaper. I refused, so he turned nasty. Thankfully, I had a tin of woodworms in the fridge. When I threatened to set them loose on him, he scarpered."

The Met police issued a warning to women in the West London area. Chief Inspector Juliet Bravo warned: "From this crime, we've discerned a disturbing, criminal pattern. It's obvious that the pervert is targeting lycra-clad women peforming yoga exercises at home in the West London area. So we're urging any woman performing yoga exercises at home, particularly in tight lycra clothing, in West London to be vigilant, but not vigilanté."

Sage advice.

Facebook 'news feed' reinforces man's lack of interest in friends

Glasgow, Scotland – The newsfeed on Facebook has made a local man realise he’s not as interested in his friends as he thought he was.

Unable to avoid the newsfeed, which contains a constant stream of the minutae of his friends' lives, Kevin McCloud is bombarded by the status updates, new pictures and mood changes that he simply doesn't feel emotionally connected to.

Keith McCloud says, “Before Facebook, I was able to talk at my friends, and share the thing I'm most interested in - a big bowl of 'me'. Then I would merely pretend to listen to their news."

But Facebook changed all of that. McCloud laments,"Now, if I want to use Facebook, I can’t click through my friends' news updates quick enough. It’s icky and unavoidable; like trying to reach the other side of a field covered in cow shit, I have to wade through the muck of lives of people who are close to me.”

“I’m even getting updates on people I haven’t seen for 15 years,” Keith moans, “but I wasn’t able to deny their friendship invite, as I’m already about 650 friends behind the most popular person in my circle.”

Tags: facebook, scot devine, pop culture, glasgow, parody news

Eddie Murphy to play Melanie Brown in movie

Eddie Murphy has turned his paternity suit frown upside down thanks to a new movie role – as ex-girlfriend, Melanie Brown.

Handcuff hit-to-be

The Beverly Hills Cop star has broken free from the handcuffs of the recent court battle by playing his ex in a new story about her awesomely interesting life.

Sexy mental star

“Scary Spice – the Blagger from Britain” is the story of ex-Spice Girl and Murphy lover, Melanie Brown. Murphy is playing the title role of failed female pop star and serial star fucker, Mel ‘B’, because, his agent charitably states, “He is totally, beyond-psychiatric-rescue mental.” Murphy is known for playing the role of multiple characters in such hit movies as Coming to America and Nutty Professor. So he can play her. After she has played him, obviously.

Relax with transvestites

When he’s not playing a dramatised version of an ex-lover who has just dragged his reputation through the international tabloid press for personal gain, Murphy likes to relax by dating transvestites for money. So it's not like he's a stranger to weirdness.

WIFI spears bring head hunters into digital age

Only ten years ago they still feasted on human flesh, but now the ancient jungle tribes of Papua New Guinea are set to feast on 21^st century style information - thanks to the arrival of wifi-enabled spears.

Hollowed-out owls

The brainchild of Microsoft founder, E.T., and Intel CEO, R2D2, the internet-enabled spears blend seamlessy into the environment and connect wirelessly to transmitters hidden in hollowed-out owl carcasses in trees.

Yippee

R2D2 said, “This kind of technological advancement will allow them to leap thousands of years of missed civilisation straight into the wonderful world of the 21^st century. Yippee!”

Boar brain sorbet

One resident tribe, the Wakakukakakakuki, were said to be cannibals up until 1496. However, those tribesmen hoping to use their new cyber spears for a little dotcom shopping for such staples as tree frog poison shots, boar brain sorbet and cobra liver souffle will be disappointed: the internet cannot process the island's cuckoo feather currency – yet.

Calum Best's "coffee and conversation" shame

Chicken-strutting stud-boy, Calum Best, has disgraced himself and his glamorous, sex-addicted playboy image today, as the PCP exposes him as a "coffee and conversation kinda guy."

Our shock revelations follow a story in The Stun that claimed Best was a whoring sex-psycho who hoovered up grand lines of cocaine then screwed a non-stop parade of escort girls and movie stars like Lindsay Lohan.

However, the truth is far darker tale of scandal-free restraint. Though Best's aides claim he is a "drugged-up, lust-crazed bed romper", two of PCP's favourite Mayfair escorts, Bruna and Sylvia, have revealed a far sicker truth to Best's behvaiour.

They claimed to have met Best in Chinawhite nightclub, where he was sat in the VIP area doing the Times crossword. They persuaded him to join them for some fun in in the city's swanky Metropolitan Hotel. Having stripped off, strapped on and chopped up for some hot sex action, they were to be dissapointed: Best confessed to them that he was more of a "coffee and conversation kinda guy."

Rather than undress and snort a line of Bolivian marching powder, Best remained clothed and asked if the irrisistible hookers had any "fresh salad and Elderflower juice?"

Bruna and Sylvia soon booted out the disgraced 'playboy' and have not heard from him since.

Tags: Calum Best, Chinawhite, Lindsay Lohan, Times, Metropolitan Hotel

A mere 99% of bubble era businesses out of business

A whopping 1% of dot com 'bubble era' techology businesses are still in business, according to a report released today by ACME research. A random sample of all dot-coms that received venture capital financing in 1999 encouragingly showed that only almost all of them (98.9 percent) were out of business five years later.

Senior Analyst with ACME research, Bob Sideshaw, commented: "This clearly shows that the doomsayers were crackpots. They were wrong to write off the booming dotcom businesses of the late nineties.

"With a massive 1% still going, there's irrefutable evidence that the bulk of these start-ups, profit or no profit, were smart bets for investors. Everyone blamed the economic downturn of 2000 onwards on technology - but those people are crazy.

LIZARD INVASION

"The real reason was that the Chinese sent in giant, flying lizards to infiltrate Western stock exchanges and fry the circuits. Their daily, unrelenting attacks sent markets haywire. It took us five long goddam years to get rid of the scaly brutes. But the media doesn't tell you that, in case you freak out. I mean, who wants to know that the gimcrack Chinese have trained flying lizards to attack our commercial centres? Not me, Buster."

BETTING SLIPS

With the technology sector currently experiencing a second massive boom, The PCP quizzed Sideshaw on the prospect of another economic meltdown. The analyst, who arranged to meet the PCP in a high street bookmakers, where he was knee deep in ripped up betting slips, said that the outlook was optimisitic for the technology sector.

Sideshaw said: "Where in tarnation did you get a wild idea like that? I'm betting everything on tech. You should, too. Bet the house! The wife and kids! Heck, bet your own sanity on the stuff.

BULL SHITS GOLD INGOTS

"Imagine the technology sector as a giant bull that's literally going to shit gold ingots for the next 100 years. Who wouldn't want to be in the tech bullring?" After lending Sideshaw £5 for a 'sure fire bet on a three-legged horse', our The PCP reporter made her excuses and left.

Good Nudes for Greens

20,000 butt naked adults gathered in the middle of a city centre this week. Normally, nudes massing in such numbers are a sign that avant garde artist, Spencer Tunick, is shooting one of his sea of flesh portraits.

However, in this case, the PCP has learned that it was simply thousands of misshapen and horny hippies from Scotland’s Green Party spilling into the streets to celebrate their deal with the SNPs to govern the Scottish Parliament. If you walk past the party, best keep your hands firmly at your sides, and look straight ahead.

Tags: Hippies, Spencer Tunick, SNP, Green Party, nude, naked

President Bush's Welcomes the Queen

The PCP has grown up a bit this week to bring you some important international news. In our first report on global affairs, we print a transcript of President Bush's welcome speech to our very own Queen.

PRESIDENT BUSH
Fellow ramekins and treasured gusts, join me in welcoming the Queen of Englandville to celebrate the successful onion between our two Greek counties.

Liz, I’d like to congratulatify you on your Oscar. I simply loved your movie, The Queen. And I loved you in it - you were real purty, yet strangely sexy in your fur. I like a woman with fur, Liz.

But, Lizzie baby, I have a bone to pick with you. Why oh why did you not get your beautiful bazongas out? You've done so in almost every other movie, like Calendar Girls and that biography of my daddy, Caligula. And all of those other naughty movies that Laura doesn’t let me watch.

One thing’s for sure, you certainly still have the mind for state business and the body for sin. So what if you're gettting on a bit? You know what they say: the older the berry, the sweeter the juice. You're a bona-fide MILF, Liz, and I don't mind who knows it.

Now, Queen Liz, as is tradition in Ameri-go-round, me and my feral Rastafarians would like to honour you with a song. And we could offer you no higher respect, than to sing you one from you own repertoire. Of course, you're more than familiar with Bohemian Rhapshody. All together now: “Scaramouche, scaramouche, can you do the fandango? Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening - me!"

Tags: Bush, The Queen, Queen, England, Rastafarian

Exclusive: Henry Ian Cusick interview

The PCP is proud to bring you a major exclusive celebrity interview. Thanks to the editor's Scottish connections, he's been able to lure (blackmail) GMTV celebrity lush, Carla Romano, and Lost's psychic hunk, Desmond, played by Glaswegian actor, Henry Ian Cusick, to these fair cyber shores. This is the interview transcript in full:

CR: Hello, Desmond! As you know, I'm the biggest foreign sycophant in all of Hollywood, so I hope your arse can withstand some serious kissing.

HIC: It's Henry, not Desmond. And is your skin meant to be that orange?

CR: Anyway, Henry, thanks for agreeing to an exclusive, tell-all interview to reveal the ending of Lost. So, what’s the big news?

HIC: About what, exactly?

CR: You know, on the ending…of the show.

HIC: Naw, orange lady, you've got me there. What show?

CR: 'Lost', of course.

HIC: Very much so, aye.

CR: You've really got no idea, have you?

HIC: Not a clue what you're talking about. Are you here to take me away from this strange beachy paradise and back to Glasgow?

CR: Oh, bollocks to this- I'm off to find a sunbed. Bye Desmond, I mean Henry.

HIC: Aye. See you in another life, brother.

Male Stripper's Lethal Weapon

A male stripper who dresses as a policeman was arrested this week with wielding an offensive weapon.

The stripper from Aberdeen, who advertises himself as “packing a serious truncheon”, was arrested for having a CS gas canister as an accessory.

However, a local woman has revealed that “fraud” would be a more appropriate charge, as his lethal weapon is “so small you’d need Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass to see it.”

Journalists gagged at silent film photocall

Media gathered today at a photocall for the personal movie camera that was used by silent screen legend, Charlie Chaplin (1889-1977), and were asked to limit their communication to exaggerated facial expressions, over the top gestures, and the occasional prat fall.

Publicists managing the photocall on behalf of Christies, who will offer the camera for auction, maintained a strict silence throughout, though this inevitably damaged the publicity effort beyond repair.

The Keystone Cops of publicity stopped journalists from asking vital questions and TV presenters from speaking to camera. They also vetoed photographers’ cameras which made “clicks, whirrs, and bleeps” that were “more in keeping with the Star Wars era than Charlie Chaplin’s”.

To police their strict, silence rules, the publicists kicked journalists on the seat of their pants, knocked their hats off, tweaked their noses, and punctuated such episodes with comedy horn squeaks. A soundtrack of 1920’s style music played in the background, whilst black and white cue cards were periodically introduced to introduce the photocall’s next set-piece.

Publicist spills pint, fails to spin way out of subsequent fight

Slick West End publicist Sir Max Cliffe was recovering in hospital today after being beaten up in a Mayfair bar last night, following an incident where he spilled a tray of drinks that a fellow customer was carrying.

Celebrating a new business success with colleagues, Cliffe was re-telling the dramatic story of the win when the trouble started. Using increasingly dynamic and unpredictable gestures to punctuate his points, he backed into John Snatch, who was carrying a tray of drinks including Guinness and red wine from the bar to his group of friends. Excitedly wind-milling his arms and dancing back into Snatch, Cliffe sent the 6’4’’ man flying. A soaking, stained and furious Snatch confronted Cliffe who, on instinct, tried to spin the incident with an unsuccessful salvo of flip missives.

Cliffe tried to convince the married, semi-professional rugby player, Snatch that: “You look hot, wet – I could get you a front cover of gay bible, Attitude magazine looking lie that”; and that “red wine stains are all the rage in trendy Hoxton – I know Pete Doherty’s stylist and she’d give you one, particularly if you gave her a half ounce of skag.” However, the legendary spinning skills that usually give Cliffe the victorious 'punch the air' feeling of victory, this time resulted in a punch in the face misery, as Snatch rained down blows.

Horror stricken across their faces as they looked on, Cliffe’s colleagues fled, citing lateness for various vital West End dinner reservations.

The Freshman

Been hunting this video for ages, and finally it's online, for free. Rejoice. It's Harold Lloyd's The Freshman, and is probably my favourite silent movie of all time.

It's the full video, so if you're watching at work, try booking a meeting room for a good hour and 15 minutes.

The movie inspired the funny enough but infinitely inferior (in my, uh, snobby opinion) Waterboy, starring Adam Sandler. If it's more saucy trivia you're after, however, I can tell you that the silent star, Lloyd, was one of the only people who bombshell starlets, including Marilyn Monroe, trusted to take their nude portraits. All totally tasteful of course. Hubba hubba.

IMDB outlines the movie's plot thus: "A nerdy college student will do anything to become popular on campus." However, what excites me most about this movie is the football game scene, which was shot in sequence, an unusual method for Lloyd. Anyway, further geekery aside, here's the movie. Hooray for Harold Lloyd.

Madonna to get another orpan

The PCP has learned that skeleton-on-strings pop psycho, Madonna, is on the hunt for orphan children. The deranged Kabbalah priestess is poised to adopt a new child to add to her growing collection.

And, once again, she is looking to pluck a child from total obscurity, rescue it from third world poverty, and boost its otherwise bleak chances of survival and nurture it back to health – and hope.

She is expected to find an orphan in Liverpool later today.

Watson's Wind-Up

Long time no post but I've been in self-imposed work exile and had no life for a while.

Received an email from my contact at the Comedy Unit (Chewin' the Fat, Still Game, Rab C Nesbitt) at the weekend. As you can imagine, it sent me
into wild throes of excitement.

My contact suggested that I submit some sketches to Watson’s Wind-Up, a BBC Radio Scotland show which "recasts the recent news in a jettison of sharp-tongued, irreverent wise cracks."

According to my contact, the brief is that the jokes or sketches are to be Scottish and topical, between 20 seconds and two minutes and based on the week's news.

As one of painfully few shows that invites unsolicited submissions, Watson’s Wind-Up creates a promising outlet to get vital experience. It will be competitive but I'm rather keen to give it a try. Will mine make the cut? Only one way to find out…

So, for practice, will be doing some more Scottish-leaning posts with a more mass market appeal - as well as the usual twisted take on the news - on the PCP in forthcoming weeks. Fucking hilarious ones, obviously :)

Reid wants illegal immigrants to breakdance to death

First it was texts, now Home Secretary John Reid is introducing break dance battles as a deterrent to illegal immigrants.

Making his announcement today, Reid unveiled his latest use of popular culture to “engage with immigrants at a street level.”

Reid’s new plans will see illegal immigrants breakdance-battling against a special Home Office unit – Her Majesty’s Breaking Crew - for a chance to stay in the country.

And in a 21^st century take on gladiatorial Rome, repeat offenders will have to break against each other - to the death.

Cherie around his neck

The PCP caught up with Reid, today to discuss the controversial new scheme. The Home Secretary was dressed for the occasion, wearing a trucker cap, L.A.M.B. love sneakers, and vintage Adidas tracksuit. Reid was also sporting some serious neck bling; when we quizzed him about its origin, however, he replied: “Listen, aight, jus’ don’ mentions it to Cherie, you get me.”

Watt the hell?

Explaining the new scheme, Reid said: “Dig this, blood. We’ll line town squares with linoleum and rock the block with some sweet Skeg beats. It’ll be mad-wicked, you get me. It’ll be a hip hop battle to the death. Normally, there ain’t no physical contact, get me. So we’s gonna change alla dat, by wiring up the immigrant breakers to electric shocks. For each move they lose, they’ll get a fatal dose of watts. And that’ll send their begging, blagging asses straight to hell.”

Flare sucks

Reid wrapped up our meeting by showing us some of the moves he has learned from the new Her Majesty’s Breaking Crew. The PCP has to say, his toprock and transition into a downrock were pretty accomplished, but his power moves – a swipe, windmill and flare – sucked. He even blew his elbow freeze, so we’re glad that Home Secretary Reid won’t be doing any battling of his own.

Tags: breakdancing, john reid, home office, Skeg, Cherie Blair, Adidas, LAMB, SMS

Barking Mad-vertising

Britain's top dog food manufacturer has announced Ukrainian feral child, Oxana Malaya, as the new face of Pedigree Chow.

According to a company press release, Malaya, who was raised by feral dogs, was selected "because of her uncanny ability to connect with dogs and human beings alike."

However, when the PCP spoke with Head of Pedigree Chow Marketing, Frank Whanckerman, he told us that there was more to it.

Whanckerman said: "Dude, she's like totally feral. It's not an act. You couldn't make it up. It's just...just awesome. This is the kind of funny shit we make up in marketing meetings but...she's just so real. I was, like at the screen test, you know, drinking a few beers, and she crawls in. Crawls! I was all like 'what the fuck?!' We've totally got to use her. It's just, just so funny, you know? It's like, if someone doesn't use her for a dog food commercial...well, fuck, man, you know?

"Anyway, check this out. At this screen test, we're like, in the studio and she's like, you know, bounding about the studio on all fours, cocking her leg and peeing on the cameras and stuff...pretty gross. We're all like - 'that's pretty feral behaviour!' Ha ha ha! She IS though - that's what's so funny about her! She came up and stuck her nose right up at my arse - can you believe that? I usually have to pay for that. It's brilliant for me and brilliant for Pedigree Chow.

"We didn't even have to pay her anything. We kinda just gave her guardian like £1,000 - nothing to us but shit-loads to them. For a laugh, we gave like Oxana a fake cheque, that I actually drew - with a pen - and she can't even tell the difference between that and a real one. It's just brilliant - so funny. So we've got her for nothing. How inspired is that? It's just a marketer's dream! End of."

Comedy connections

Last week a hitherto camouflaged crack squad of comedy connections exploded into view. Although none have borne fruit, as yet, they've gotten me mildly over-excited. If nothing else, they offer me potential opportunities to get some useful feedback on the fat wad of sketches I've written to sell to TV & radio.

Saturday morning, I forced myself to call Tam Cowan, Daily Record columnist, radio and TV show presenter and comedy writer. A friend of my Dad's, Tam is the closest connection and the most likely to offer useful, honest feedback on my material so far. I was nervous about making the call. All week - in fact, for two weeks, I had procrastinated. Though I believe in the scripts, I had been suffering from a sever case of rejection paranoia. However, I managed to get a grip and gingerly made the call. No answer. Following a rambling voicemail and follow-up text I let it lie. Still heard nothing but I can wait a week or so.

Friday evening, I met up with my old colleagues, and one who I had worked closely with for two years turns out to be pals with the talented Nicholas Burns, who played the lead in Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker's 'Michael-fuckin-Jackson-awesome' Nathan Barley. The pal may offer to read the scripts and give me some clinical feedback. Just what I need. How amazing?

And yet another connection is a fella at work, who has one of Britain's best comedy talents in the family, of all places. However, it will be some time before I'm prepared to have material viewed by someone of his talent, even if I'm ballsy enough to ask.

Nevertheless, interesting for these connections to sort of emerge from seemingly nowhere. And gives me a sense that I'll be able to get some contstructive cricicism on the material so far as well as some ideas on what to do with it. And, the wheels are in motion now. Wonder that will happen on this new ride?

Met arms police with snowballs

The Met police chief, Ian Blair, today confirmed that he will be arming his Armed Response Unit with snowballs.

Blair said: "The recent snowfall may have brought most of London to a standstill, but serious crime continues to flourish. Although criminals, like ordinary Londoners, cannot use any tube or overground trains becuase of this catastrophic 2 inch snowfall, they are using alternative means such as walking."

But Blair has cunningly turned the freak weather conditions to his advantage, by issuing snowballs to armed response police to hurl at weapon-wielding crooks.

Blair continued: "No-one can resist a snowball fight. Be it happy-go-luck school kid or hardened, sawn-off shotgun-carrying career criminal. So our plan is to despatch officers to a crime scene, where they take cover, and draw the crook into a snowball fight by pelting him. It's idiot-proof. Plus, are armed response unit has taken to killing innocent civilians, so snowballs are safer for the general public. "

The Wrath of the Inch of Snow

The Inch of Snow that brought London to its knees last week has issued a chilling threat: it may return in the cold snap this week. It's the news that Londoners surely feared the most, and may have some fleeing the town in terror.

Today, at 4.03 p.m., the Inch of Snow cut into national TV and radio broadcasts, taking over the country's airwaves to deliver it's nerve-rattling warning, in an accent alarmingly like Alan Rickman's:

"Puny Earthlings. I, the inch of snow, hate you. I hate your trains. I hate your Tube. I hate your inability to cope with even the meekest weather. And so I, the Inch of Snow, will return to destroy your diminishing faith in Britain's public transport once and for all. Beware.

"Your trains will grind to a halt. Your Tube lines will shut. Your buses will not move. And, although you humans will be able to walk and move exactly as normal through my really quite thin dusting of snow, and though that dusting only lasts until about 8.30 a.m., whereupon it just kind of melts, so help me I will bring your public transport to a grinding standstill."

The PCP asked Mayor Ken 'Livid' Livingston to comment, but his press spokesman said that he was "far too busy sending letter bombs to congestion charge managers, Capita."

Tags: snow, London, Tube, Ken Livingston, letter bomb