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When the Blast sounds, will you and yours say
"Thank heavens! At last, Judgment Day!"
Or, "Hang on a spot - I can't find my sock"?
Arrange for a spare; don't delay. |
| limerick archive |
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Sir:
On Christmas Eve three years ago my husband and young son were killed by a drunken driver while returning home from a pantomime. Of course, I can laugh about it now. |
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| letters from the editor archive |
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Bill to Inspire Fear In the House introduced by the Rt Hon Cregulant Brakey (Undetermined), Member for Hobs End.
i. That my honourable friends are insufficiently fearful of me.
ii. Accordingly, I shall be visiting each Rt Hon Gentleman soon with my gliding gait and populous cloak.
(Cries of "Shame," "Brrrr," and, "Jesus.") |
| the bill before the house archive |
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The BRITON'S SCIENCE has shewn that The Weekly, the magazine which strives to maintain Britain's standards, has topped* one million readers since 1871.
"Undoubtedly it's MR NASH's unique vision that has kept The Weekly committed to such a tiny, tiny font," said MR MILLINGTON of this mathematically inevitable achievement.
MR NASH added: "Splendid - just the opportunity for some kind of retrospective compilation ish."
* Though not, of course, in the sense of assassination. The Weekly has had cause to assassinate no more than a carriage's-worth of readers. |
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Sup from the issue broth with the random ladle. New issue every time, subject to blind unfavouring chance. |
| feature archive |
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| Stand and Deliver! |
"You wouldn't be escaping so easily if I had a brace of pistols instead of this stick." |
| hurrah/bah archive |
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| This chap's purchased an OFFICIAL THE WEEKLY T-SHAPED SHIRT and now he's working off his shame at indulging in such wasteful extravagance. You too may display similar penitence, and perhaps press hot coins guiltily into the hands of a stooped clerk for a copy of MR MILLINGTON's improving books Things About Which My Girlfriend And I Have Argued, A Certain Chemistry, Love and Other Near-Death Experiences and Instructions For Living Someone Else's Life, by patronising the The Weekly Corner Shop corner shop. Items despatched under plain wrapper, school-boys will be chased from the premises with a broom. |
| corner shop |
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Game: Extendy!
Played chiefly in: Chertsey.
Objective: Be the last player remaining in the game by "extending" it beyond all natural levels of interest and skill. Players can add new rules and goals arbitrarily, directly contradicting earlier ones if they like, with the sole purpose of driving what entertainment value the game may once have possessed deeply into the cold, cold ground and causing everyone else to give up in broken dismay.
Obstacles: Death. A properly run game of Extendy! with a full set of obdurately self-destructive players can run for up to 117 years, and nothing upsets a participant more than another dropping dead before they've officially resigned.
Rating: Not a spectator favourite. |
| heritage of games archive |
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| Remain UP-TO-DATE and KEENLY ABREAST with a subscription to BRITAIN'S ADVOCATE OF QUALITIES. You will receive notification by e-mail of forthcoming issues of the magazine which inspires Britons everywhere to forge ahead to a better newness. Alternatively, sub down from the list in weary satiety. |
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