Monkeybroth Public service announcements
Welcome to Monkeybroth’s public announcements service. Here at Monkeybroth towers, we take our public service responsibilities very seriously. We love, cherish and respect our communities… hang on we’ve already done this. Suffice to say, dear reader, the below public service announcements will help us all defeat globalism and the rising tide of imperialistic dogma which so blights our lives. Or something like that.
- Gold for Gold! Do you have large quantities of gold? Send it us today using our you-pay envelopes. Simply get an envelope, stick a stamp on it and stuff all your gold into it. Once it arrives we’ll eventually open it and look at it for a bit. Then we’ll send it back! What could be simpler? We all need extra gold these days so go for gold by visiting goldforgold.com. We are as good as gold!
- Blue suede shoes? Do you have a pair? Well, we’ll come round your house and step on them for you. Since 1987 we’ve been doing stuff that songs tell us we can’t do. Special offer this week – We will break your heart, we do know a lot about biology and we do know a lot about a science book. We will also leave you with this way, and naturally we do want you, baby! For a frankly ridiculous fee, we’ll come around to your house and do all this stuff! Visit doingstuffsongssaywecan’t.com today!
- Talking of Elvis, see public service announcement above, do you have any spare Elvis Presley’s in your house? We can come round and turn them into elves. How many times a day do you wish your spare Elvis Presley’s could be elves instead? We are betting it’s a lot of times. Don’t just sit there – turn your Elvis Presley’s into Elves today! (24 hour emergency call out fee applies). Visit elvistoelves.co.uk this very afternoon. You don’t need to have a suspicious mind about our service!
Yet another thought of the week with the very Rev Archbishop of Toad-in-the-Wold, Dr Robert CarolgeesPosted: 05/04/2012
Thought of the week
With the extremely and hugely reverend Archbishop of Toad-in-the-Wold, Dr Robert Carolgees…
“As I sit here in my pressed leather high-backed chair looking over the beautiful valley of Toad-in-the-Wold, my thoughts turn to condoms and the church’s stance on the use of these and other prophylactics and birth control measures. It is, perhaps, to non-ecclesiastical eyes, a strange take on an item that has for many hundreds of years been used to prevent ladies, many of them scarlet and wanton, from falling with child. While the church decrees that the proper use of condoms is both unclean and ungodly, there is little in scripture prescribing their use as a humorous head adornment, to be blown to a larger proportion through the nostrils of the wearer. My last parish, which covered the small Gloucestershire town of Hickey-on-the-Neck, relied heavily on the tourism trade brought to it by its annual condom-on-head-blowing up festival, which ran for many years in the early 1980S.
As I mused, my train of thought was rudely interrupted by a loud shriek emanating from the kitchen of my sprawling diocesan house, so kindly and thoughtfully provided to me by my parishioners. I could only think the shriek was produced by my live-in help Gumpert, who, only minutes before, had been preparing a high tea of crumpets with thick homemade raspberry jam. His anguished cries led me to believe that perhaps a hot crumpet had slipped from his sausage-fingered grasp and had landed jam side down on the parquet flooring, so kindly provided to me by my parishioners.
Rising wearily I strode purposefully into the kitchenette to be met by a site of unadulterated panic and hullabaloo. I noticed immediately that there was sticky raspberry jam all over the granite work surfaces, but even more pressing was the sight of Gumpert, angrily waving his hands in the air, crumpet still in his ever so firm grasp, as he mounted a doomed bid to knock a large and rather disgruntled wasp from its flight path. Gumpert continued to moan and flail until his discretion overcame his valour and he retreated with a whimper into the drawing room.
The wasp’s intent towards Gumpert was clearly larcenous but for now it appeared content to gorge itself on the sticky mess, my athletic live-in help had, with some effort, produced all over the kitchen work surfaces. Its little antennae bobbed back and forth as it savoured Gumpert’s sticky mess. Faced with such an impressive adversary, I too retreated to the drawing room to discuss tactics with Gumpert, who by now was sulkily rolling one of his foul-smelling Moroccan cigarillos, his tea-time treat long since discarded on a bone china plate, one of a large set kindly provided to me by my parishioners. I looked around the drawing room and decided a rolled up copy of yesterday’s Guardian would provide me with a distinct advantage in my impending battle with the jam intoxicated invertebrate, which had done so much to ruin my afternoon.
Just as I was reaching for the newspaper, however, a sudden ray of ethereal light bathed the small kitchen window which I could just see from my position behind the drawing room chaise longue. I do believe the Lord spoke to me at that very moment.
My path became clear. I rose with renewed vigour and entered the fray with the small kitchenette window my goal. Not wishing to alert the jam slurping wasp to my intentions, I stole across the parquet flooring before cranking open the small window. It only took a few seconds for the wasp to finish his feast and fly harmlessly out into the bright spring sunshine through the half opened window. My newspaper armed battle with the wasp would have taken me many minutes but the issue had, quickly and without fuss, been resolved in a matter of moments.
Verily the Lord doth move in mysterious ways!
Dr Robert Carolgees will be signing copies of his autobiography For Christ’s Sake at Smeggs the Stationers, Blow-in-the-Hole, this Thursday. He looks forward to meeting you there.
For sale – Grand Piano
Nearly new finished in tiger-stripe vinyl. Would suit travelling salesman or similar. Children force reluctant sale. Comes with free carry handle and a singing mollusc hiding under the keys.
email for full details – firstname.lastname@example.org
!!!!@LOOK@!!!! Rare Kenwood mixer!!!!!
One of 34,000,000 made. Has modified blades made from moon rock. Only used for grinding up spoons twice. Unique opportunity. First to see will be shy.
email email@example.com for abuse.
Really long Ford Granada estate in jet black
50,000 miles only 4th and 5th gear never used. Very shiny with a huge custom flat rear load bay. Never raced or rallied! Perfect family car.
Free to a good home
Some spaghetti that I cooked last night but did too much. Rather than waste the excess, do you want it? Can post for a small fee (mainland only please). No canvassers or resellers please.
Yo, (I can be pretty ‘Street’ when I need to be guys)
I know you’ve all been waiting for my latest post, so Peter’s going to put you out of your misery and brighten your day.
Your weekly horoscope with our resident stargazer Moonman the Apocalyptic….
Hi guys, Moonman the Apocalyptic here back for another starry-eyed gaze into your future. What a week I’ve had my little star benders. On Monday a group of builders mistook me for mercurial pop star PJ Harvey, while my local Budgens completely ran out of Party Rings. All predicted by me last week of course. Here’s my horoscope for you for the week ahead my lovely little beads of sweaty love….
Water, water and lots of it to drink. Not in the South East though eh Aquarians? Never mind, do you remember that African child you sponsored back in 1984? Well, this week he’ll knock on your door demanding food and lodgings. Pretend to be out if you dare Aquarius.
Lucky job: Party planner
‘Overblown politicians blow over blow pipe imports’ will be the rather natty headline in your local paper on Thursday, Pisces. It’s a fascinating story but my main concern dear, dear Pisces is your love life. Or lack of it, you infuriatingly stupid bag of a person you. For heaven’s sake lose the moustache and buy a waistcoat – I have spoken Pisces…
Lucky 80s singer: Hazel O’Connor
Ooo you are super Aries – all bold and ram like. Look at you with your wool all glistening and welcoming in the thin early April sunshine. Tuesday will see a lovely boil develop on your love rat of a husband’s forehead but don’t let that put you off pickling your eggs. With the new moon rising wearily it’s the ideal time to stop hiding in bushes by the church. And anyway, the cops are on to you Aries.
Lucky weapon: A big tank
Hirsute and manly are never words that could be used to describe your mother, if we are being honest Taurus. Still, Friday will be one of those days you’ll want to write home about as you end up buying a pen and a saucy seaside postcard. Mercury’s argument with Jupiter does mean you’ll end up on the sofa again on Saturday night, but with the television all to yourself the possibilities are limited.
Lucky limb: Arm
The moon loves a challenge and so will spend all week climbing all over Mercury. Its gravitational pull will see life confidence surge through your frankly ridiculous body this week, dear Gemini. With the stars and planets going ape muck insane you’ll have a chance to finally ring the World Wrestling Federation and leave a message for Noel Edmonds. He’s free Thursdays. I think it’s your knees I hate more than anything.
Lucky dictator: Mussolini
I’ve heard from your husband, dear Cancer. He’s just bought a house in Dudley and doesn’t want to be with you anymore. You can keep all the paperweights but he would like the Bunty Magazine 1974 Christmas Annual back. His new girlfriend likes Bunty. Thanks heavens for the benevolent wonder of the firmament Cancer! ALL the paperweights!
Lucky island: Wight
Leo the lion – ha ha ha ha ha – you’re basically a lion, Leo…. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Lucky drink: Strong West Country cider
Thanks to Saturn’s corns your West Wing box sets become lost in the post. On Monday, after a heavy night on the sauce, you’ll wake to discover you have slept with a starting pistol. Don’t bother – he won’t call you and he won’t respect you. Nice breakfast though. On Wednesday, watch out for the pigeons on Human Street. They look like they are watching you for a reason, which is that they are watching you.
Lucky luck: Luck
There’s much more to being a lollipop lady than first glance Libra. It’s not all sexy uniforms and hanging around outside schools with big signs you know. There’s loads of other stuff involved. More pertinently you’ll get bumped into by a former president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, on Wednesday morning, outside WH Smiths. Smile politely and walk on Libra – don’t even think about asking him about his BMX.
Lucky nostril: The left one – no as you look at it
You will finally fall in love this week dear Scorpio! Big, spunky ice hockey players from the Moronto Maples ice hockey team will be in your local tobacconists on Tuesday, selecting souvenirs to send home to Canada. For Christ sakes, sort your hair out, get some slap on and snare yourself a Maple man you untidy, baggy heap of an arse-bendingly idiotic trollope.
Lucky shop: Staples
Thank god for Sagittarians everywhere. Bringing some sanity into this horsed-up world of ours. It’s going to be a great week for you Sagittarius. Mostly because Neptune has forgotten to sort out that Council Tax direct debit and has got a date for the magistrates through the post. He’s cool about it though – he’s being all laid back and Channel 5’s Home and Away about it. It helps you out too, you entirely beautiful sack of tulips you, as Mercury gets annoyed and orders a tramp to give you his last bottle of Thunderbird. Happy days!
Lucky clucky: A chicken
An email from Ryan Giggs is the best possible start to the week eh Capricorn? Unfortunately, it will go straight to spam and you’ll delete it. Ah well, there’s plenty more harmful carcinogens in the sea eh Cappy old thing? Your cousin sends on a grow your own moustaches kit for your birthday in the post, so its ying and frigging yang ain’t it Capricorn eh? eh?
Lucky mucky: Razzle
Rockstars in the morning…
No.2: Phil Collins
Phil Collins’ Mum: “Phil Collins!….Phil Collins!…come on you’ll be late for school. Are you getting up, it’s 7.45!”
Phil Collins: “Yes, mum, I’m just coming…”
Phil Collins’ Mum: “In the air tonight love?”
Phil Collins: “No….I am just coming down for breakfast.”
Phil Collins’ mum: “What do you want? Sugar Puffs or Crunchy Nut Bites?”
Phil Collins: “Erm…Sugar Puffs”
Phil Collins’ mum: “Please…”
Phil Collins: “Please….”
Phil Collins mum: “Good boy Phil Collins, good boy.”
More morning musical mayhem next time, folks!