Paul Nuttall – Internet Sensation

No swivel eyed loon this lad.

No swivel eyed loon this lad.

In this, the first of what may or may not develop into some kind of series, we take a look at iconic British heroes, kicking off with ex-professional footballer, Stoke on Trent resident and Hillsborough survivor, UKIP leader Paul Nuttall PhD who is definitely not a racist. (Allegedly.)

Paul Nuttall has become something of an internet sensation recently, and for all the wrong reasons. Although Nuttall has distanced himself from claims made on his website, blaming anyone but himself it seems that the public aren’t buying it, and the response on social media has been an avalanche of merciless piss-taking on a level only surpassed by Agent Orange, the President of the United States.

If you believe everything you read on the internet, Paul Nuttall has been everywhere and done just about everything, ever, in the history of the world.

Paul’s been everywhere man. He was the one who noticed that Noah was missing a few animals on the ark. This is why we have wombats today.

Paul was at Waterloo don't you know.

Paul was at Waterloo don’t you know.

 

We don’t know who put all these memes together as they’re just screen grabs but if the authors responsible would care to drop us a line we’ll be happy to add names to the collection..

Shuttlecock.

Paul holding the fort with Stanley Baker at Rourke's Drift. He also starred in the film Zulu!

Paul holding the fort with Stanley Baker at Rourke’s Drift. He also starred in the film Zulu!

Give me your money NOW! Paul was on the bill at Live Aid.

Give me your money NOW! Paul was on the bill at Live Aid.

1066 and all, Paul battled with migrants at Hastings.

1066 and all, Paul battled with migrants at Hastings.

I hope my legs don't break - walking on the moon...

I hope my legs don’t break – walking on the moon…

I'm Spartacus! Paul showed the ancient Greeks a thing or two.

I’m Spartacus! Paul showed the ancient Greeks a thing or two.

Paul pictured with the late and much lamented Rik Mayall filming the hit TV show Bottom.

Paul pictured with the late and much lamented Rik Mayall filming the hit TV show Bottom.

The last supper. Paul about to tuck into a chicken Jalfrezi. Lovely!

The last supper. Paul about to tuck into a chicken Jalfrezi. Lovely!

 

 

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Titchfield Councillor calls for withdrawal from Fareham Market

Lord Mustard Pants Of Thanet - still smiling despite becoming an endangered species.

Somebody who vaguely resembles Councillor Cheeseman pictured before he got leathered down the pub recently.

Titchfield TCIP (Titchfield and Catisfield Independence Party) councillor Nobby Cheeseman has called on Titchfield traders to withdraw from Fareham market on the basis that that the market is undemocratic, a dictatorship, and that Fareham Borough Council’s stance on imported cheeses from outside farmers’ markets and French markets is devaluing traditional Titchfield cheese producers.

“We must retake Titchfield and regain control over our cheese market,” Councillor Cheeseman said over a pint and a ploughman’s at Titchfield Mill. “I’m not cheesist in any way but when Titchfield cheese producers put their goods on offer at Fareham Market there’s way too much red tape and they’re subjected to extortionate fees for stall rental and, quite frankly outrageous parking fees. We need to get out now and start our own cheese market. I’ve heard there’s a massive demand for Titchfield cheeses in outer Mongolia, and that’s how we should be looking at this issue. There’s a global market out there, so why bother with Fareham? It doesn’t make sense and it’s a bad deal for Titchfield. Our cheesemakers contribute about £350 per week to Fareham Borough Council, and that money would be better spent on First Aid courses at the village hall. We should have it painted on the side of a transit van or something to promote awareness.”

Local dimwit and aspiring politician Tom Slavish commented: “I’m not sure what’s happening here to be honest but I’ll assess the situation, test the waters and then come out on the side of whoever’s winning the argument.”

More as we get it.

Cafe Spike

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Titchfield Mayor Elect – Inauguration show line up

Titchfield residents are said to be excited by the inauguration show.

Titchfield residents are said to be excited by the inauguration show.

Newly elected Titchfield Mayor, Barry Slade has finally announced the line up ahead of his inauguration in the grounds of Titchfield Abbey tomorrow. (Weather permitting.) [Read more…]

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Christmas Eve in the night shelter – a memoir

We're all human. Aren't we?

We’re all human. Aren’t we?

Some years ago I was working as a night project worker in an experimental night shelter. It was experimental because it was a ‘wet’ shelter – a temporary haven for the homeless where the residents (we were supposed to call them clients, but I never felt comfortable with that, so to me they were residents) were allowed to bring in and consume alcohol on the premises.

To the casual observer the set up may have appeared to be a recipe for disaster, yet it turned out to be workable for the most part. The shelter was staffed by two salaried project workers with a line manager and a night duty officer on call in case of problems. We worked four nights on and four nights off, opening up the building and admitting the residents from 8pm to 8am daily, and that year Christmas Eve was – along with my co-worker – our last night.

One of the worst aspects of the job came about in the mornings. The residents had beds in individual cubicles and a communal area for socialising, but in the mornings they had to leave as the building was unstaffed in the daytime. That’s a tough call on a cold winter morning. Most residents would while away the daylight hours in the local library, a pub if they had the money, a fast food place or even a laundrette, before coming to the shelter in the evenings for a meal, a spot of socialising and a warm bed for the night.

We couldn’t possibly have turned the residents out onto the street on Christmas morning, so my co-worker and I volunteered to stay on for an extra 8 hours (unpaid) after our shift until a local volunteer group arrived to cook Christmas dinner for the residents.

The same volunteers had opened up an hour early on Christmas Eve, and as I arrived I sensed something amiss. The residents were clustered in a group in the communal area, and one or two were looking agitated.

Next up, the doorbell rang and when I went to answer it I was confronted by half a dozen cops in riot gear and the same number of irate citizens. It later transpired that one of our younger residents had decided to amuse himself by smashing car wing mirrors with a small hammer, and had been pursued by said citizens and police to the shelter.

So the cops came in, and the guilty kid made it clear that he wasn’t going with them without a fight. There was a stand off, and I was stuck in the middle, between an angry young man and police officers holding out canisters of pepper spray. I just did the first thing that came into my head.

“Whoah!” I said to the cops. “Don’t start spraying that shit around. Let me talk to him. He’ll be okay, trust me.”

With that the cops thankfully paused, but the kid was getting increasingly agitated.

“Look,” I said to him. “Think about it. One way or another you’re going to be going with them. The hard way isn’t a good option. Just give it up and talk to them. They won’t hurt you. I promise. I won’t let them.”

Looking directly into his eyes I could see that he wasn’t going to do that, I knew the kid and I knew where he was from, so despite the fact that he appeared to calm down, then raised his hands and said: “Okay.”

He tried to do a runner, bolted, but as he spun around he ran face first directly into a cast iron roof post and knocked himself spark out.

Not the greatest start to an evening in the season of goodwill.

My first duty of care being to the resident, I crouched over him, shielding him from the police, who seemed all too keen to pepper spray him, but to their credit, they didn’t. They thankfully held off.

He was out cold for a matter of seconds, but it seemed like an eternity until he blinked and started talking again. I helped him to his feet and the cops put him in a van without further incident.

Until he realised he’d been nicked and started kicking the shit out of the sides of the van. But that’s more or less a given in the circumstances, and the cops didn’t seem too concerned about it.

Considering all this occurred within ten minutes of the Christmas Eve night shift things weren’t looking good, but everything chilled out considerably after that.

We had three musicians in that night, one a novice, one who’d come from a well off family who’d taken to the streets after losing his friends to drugs, and a sensitive soul from my wife’s home town.

We spent that Christmas Eve listening to these wonderful guys playing sweet music on their guitars and singing. One of the highlights being the former pro band member who gave a comedic interpretation of Eric Clapton’s ‘Wonderful Tonight’ substituting the signature line with: ‘You look like fucking shite.’ Adding that as a busker, asking a guy in a cinema queue what his girlfriend’s name is and then substituting it for Sally in Oasis’s ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’ was a guaranteed money spinner.

In the meantime, I got into a conversation with the guy from my wife’s home town, a musically talented and gifted sensitive soul who was a committed vegan. I asked him if he’d eaten and he replied that he hadn’t so I offered to rustle something up for him. He had a passion for garlic mushrooms, and thanks to my beloved wife – from his home town, Worcester – I had the perfect recipe.

So I cooked the guy some garlic mushrooms, and he said they were the finest garlic mushrooms he’d ever tasted. He was teary eyed when he said it, and it moved me.

“I’m going home,” he said. “I’ve decided. It’s been too long.”

“But it’s half four on Christmas morning,” I pointed out. “No trains, no buses. Get your head down here. You’ll be okay.”

“Thanks all the same. But I’m going home,” he said. “Could you open the door please?”

I tried to talk him out of it, but he wasn’t having any of it. He thanked me for the garlic mushrooms, slung his bag on his back and walked off into the mist at 4:30 on Christmas morning, thanking me for my hospitality and understanding.

It was a strange night, yet a wonderful night, and one I will be eternally grateful to have been a part of.

There is no moral to this story. It’s just life experience for all of those involved.

We’re all just people – no more, no less.

Thanks for reading this, and Merry Christmas.

Cafe Spike.

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Fake News Websites aren’t doing the damage – it’s the ‘real’ ones

Express reporter about to sharpen his quill pen.

Express reporter about to sharpen his quill pen.

The proposal that fake news websites should be shut down, or shut out by social media outlets because they may or may not have exerted an undue influence over real life political issues and voting outcomes, one can’t help but wonder what goes on in the befuddled heads of our so-called leaders. [Read more…]

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99% Of Express Readers Don’t Get That They’re Idiots

I ain't fick!

I ain’t fick!

In a shock poll conducted by Cafe Spike it has emerged that 99% of Daily Express readers refuse to accept that they are idiots, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

“The fact that I believe every conspiracy theory out there and that I’m incredibly gullible and stupid doesn’t make me an idiot,” claimed one outraged Express reader. “Although I must admit I did feel a bit of a twat after panic buying two thousand tins of vegetable soup and a catapult after the Express weather reporter told us about the impending ice age, but nobody can predict the weather. Ergo I am not an idiot. End of.”

“Just because I’d stop at nothing to get my country back doesn’t make me an idiot,” said 89 year old UKIP member George Slaughter. “Anyone who doesn’t agree with me should be tortured and shot in the head. My next door neighbour’s grandad didn’t fight in two world wars so that we can be governed by EU Nazis. We’re perfectly capable of our own final solution thank you very much.”

“I’m not gay but I’d perform oral sex on Nigel Farage for all he’s done to deliver our country from the yoke of Nazi oppression,” said an Express reader who calls himself “inlovewithdemocracy” in the comments section of the DE. “And furthermore I’d have anyone who isn’t a white Christian interned in labour camps, although I’m not sure about gas chambers…there must be a more economical way of conducting mass genocide than gassing and cremation.”

“I HAVEN’T A CLUE WHAT THE HELL I’M TALKING ABOUT AT THE BEST OF TIMES,” said DE commenter CAPSLOCK. “BUT WE SHOULD KILL EVERYBODY WHO DOESN’T AGREE WITH ME – ESPECIALLY THE DARKIES AND THE QUEERS.”

All of which kind of says something or other.

Although we haven’t got a clue what that might be.

Martin Shuttlecock.

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Donald Trump Stole Kim Kardashian’s Bra, Swears Mail Reader

A distraught Kim pictured yesterday in Wolverhampton.

A distraught Kim pictured yesterday in Wolverhampton.

Avid Daily Mail reader Tom England is convinced that Donald Trump stole Kim Kardashian’s bra after pictures emerged of the reality TV star wearing a see-through top and no bra emerged on social media.

“When I saw the pictures of Kim all but showing her top bollocks off I knew straight away that somebody had stolen her bra, and that somebody has to be Donald Trump,” Mr England said last night. “He’s the only one who fits the bill. I used to be a Trump supporter but the recent revelations regarding his sexist exploits have put me right off him.

“It’s not at all like Kim to go out half dressed unless there’s a very good reason for it, and I’m convinced somebody stole her bra. Having completed an online course in criminal profiling I applied the basic principles to the case of Kim’s stolen bra and lo and behold, Donald Trump emerged as the prime suspect.

“My research has also revealed that Barack Obama has had full sex with Michelle Obama at least twice, that the Queen is really a man named Bert, and that Katie Price is a sex robot experiment that didn’t work out as planned.

“But of course the New World Order wouldn’t ever allow me to say such things in public. They’d have me assassinated or something.”

And…

That’s enough of that nonsense, thank you very much.

CS

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Morbidly obese Asylum seeker to sue NHS over gastric band op

A surgeon, wondering where to start.

A surgeon, wondering where to start.

A morbidly obese Afghan asylum seeker is currently receiving legal aid in order to sue the NHS after surgeons refused to schedule gastric band surgery to help her to lose weight.

Mother of nine, Mazra Hussein, 43, of Derby argues that the NHS has a moral duty to help her weight loss programme and is furious that her request has been snubbed.

“As a Muslim woman it is my duty to be pleasing to my husband – something I cannot possibly be when I am very overweight. It’s very annoying that the NHS won’t help me to be sexier for my husband. I am currently in discussions with my legal team and we’re looking at filing a suit against the NHS within weeks. If we win my case then I stand to collect a six figure sum in compensation, part of which will fund gastric band surgery at a private clinic and the rest will probably be spent on a new family car and perhaps a world cruise.

“I don’t feel at all bad about suing the NHS,” she added. “They won’t help me because I’m a Muslim – which is just racist – and because the family is on benefits. It would have saved the NHS money in the long run if they’d just done the surgery in the first place when I demanded it. It’s high time they were challenged.”

The surgeon responsible for refusing to carry out the procedure, Mr Oliver Hartnell was unrepentant.

“We carried out a clinical assessment based on the patient’s welfare,” he told us. “And we decided not to perform the surgery, based on the fact that Mrs Hussein has made no effort whatsoever to help herself. Given that she lounges around all day, every day, eating Indian takeaways, munching pizza and drinking copious quantities of sugary drinks we declined her demand for gastric band surgery. It’s sad that she feels the need to take legal action against the NHS, but she probably didn’t tell you that we’d agreed to review her case if she takes steps to improve her situation herself, which she has so far refused to countenance.

“Patients need to understand that the NHS needs them to be proactive in their own care. We can’t be put into situations whereby patients live unhealthy lifestyles and then demand that we repair self inflicted damage. That just isn’t on and we’ll defend that position every step of the way.”

More as we get it.

TP

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9/11 – 15 Years On – Enough Of The Conspiracy Theory Crap

Sadly it wasn't a movie.

Sadly it wasn’t a movie.

If you happen to be one of those people who insist that the terrible events of 09/11/01 were some kind of New World Order conspiracy, and subscribe to the insanity that suggests that the entire series of events was somehow staged by the US government, then you really need to wake up, get a grip and keep your stupid shit to yourself.

With just about every conceivable conspiracy theory surrounding 9/11 having been long ago thoroughly debunked, just hold your hands up, take it on the fucking chin and admit that you got it all horribly wrong.

Your sick theories not only get dumber and stupider – they get increasingly offensive.

Four planes were hijacked, two hit the twin towers, one hit The Pentagon and the fourth was brought down in a field in Pennsylvania after courageous passengers fought the terrorists. Sadly we all know the rest.

So stick your idiotic theories about controlled demolition, Building 7, Thermite, Muslims taking that day off, the insane idea that the planes and those poor people weren’t even real, just some sort of movie SFX up your arses and show some fucking respect.

A lot of people died that day and many are dying today as the toxic dust takes its tragic toll on countless survivors.

So, just shut the fuck up.

Eh?

Cafe Spike dot com

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Our Farewell Note To David Cameron – Piss Off!

Pig botherer quits. Loser.

Pig botherer quits. Loser.

We doubt that porky porker Cameron will ever read this, but just in case you do stumble across this article, our message to you is – Piss off!

Goodbye and bollocking good riddance to the worst Prime Minister this country has ever had. We hope you’re fucking proud of your legacy Dave – austerity, mounting debt, ripping the arse out of the NHS, kicking the crap out of the sick and vulnerable, food banks, Brexit, tax breaks for your rich pals, zero action on corporate tax evasion, cuts to public services that even horrified your mother, and of course not forgetting the allegation that you plonked your prick in a porker’s mouth.

We just have one question to ask you, as you sit counting your offshore based millions after leaving our nation neck deep in shit as a result of your egomaniacal folly – can you take drooling Gideon Osborne and that murdering bastard Iain Duncan Smith with you?

We don’t usually do rants, but if we did they’d probably be a bit like this one.

Piss off ya prick!!!

Love you not,

Cafe Spike dot com.

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