Nigel Farage’s Gypsy Grandmother Put A Curse On The England Football Team

This might be her - it might not. Who knows?

This might be her – it might not. Who knows?

This has got to be our weirdest story of the week, but we are assured by a bloke down the pub that it’s all true.

It appears that in 1966 Nigel Farage’s gypsy grandmother was having an affair with a German potter named Otto; contemporaries say (apparently) that she was thoroughly smitten, and that the feeling was reciprocal.

Otto was a great football fan and a fanatical follower of the German national team, and apparently he freaked out when the Russian linesman awarded a goal for Geoff Hurst’s off the crossbar shot during extra time which was England’s third and Hurst’s second of the day.

Otto went mad, shrieking and wailing until Hurst smashed the decisive fourth goal past Tilkowski for his hat trick, at which point Otto commenced smashing up the gypsy caravan which the couple called home.

In response, Nigel Farage’s gypsy grandmother laid a curse on the England football team which endures to this day, a curse which she steadfastly refuses to lift – even when approached by a tearful Glen Hoddle.

Not only that – she further cursed England by inflicting young Nigel on us – saying that he’s a bit like Damian out of The Omen and that he’ll destroy England forever.

Of course we can’t swear that it’s true, but it does make for interesting reading if you’ve nothing better to do.

Martin Shuttlecock


Goodbye My England

Are we mental?

Are we mental?

If there’s one thing that the EU referendum has taught me, it’s that the England, the Britain I know and love is lost. Waking up and going to work on a beautiful summer morning something fundamentally changed. We elected democratically to leave the European Union – there’s no arguing with the democratic process – the collective will of the people should always be respected.

Our Prime Minister resigned – no sad loss in my book because Mr Cameron is the worst Prime Minister ever and has been a monumental flop, along with his cohorts, Gideon Osborne and Michael Gove – but on a broader scale it’s a Shakespearean tragedy. Good riddance to Cameron, Osborne and their ilk.

But there will be a price to pay. As a net contributor to the EU, the remaining countries aren’t going to take this lying down. There will be repercussions. Whether it will all be storm in a teacup or whether it will be a cataclysmic event remains to be seen.

Whatever – the England and Britain that I’ve always loved and felt proud of has become a significantly different animal. We aren’t a united country any more. Like America we’ve become obsessed by greed and personal advancement and to hell with others.

That isn’t my England. My England and my ancestors fought for freedom and equality. Our ancestors laid down their lives so we can live free, and we’ve kicked them square in the face by turning on their sacrifices.

Is this what those people died for? A self obsessed racist xenophobic nation who detest the victims of war and conflict that we were instrumental in creating?

Pull up the ladder, I’m all right Jack.

That isn’t my England.

I’ll be applying for my Irish citizenship and leaving this nest of vipers.

I’m out of here.

You can have your Boris Johnson and your Nigel Farage and your consecutive Conservative governments who will – as they are doing at this moment – strip you of your humanity and dignity.

It’s game over for England. The Brexiters have their wish and they don’t seem to have a clue how to deal with it.

Where will it all end?

I’m not planning on seeing where it goes. I loved my England, my Britain, loved it with all my heart, but no more.

Take it – you’re welcome to whatever’s left.

Martin Shuttlecock for Cafe Spike


Has England Sold Its Soul To The Devil?

Once Upon A Time We All Worked Together As A Team

Once Upon A Time We All Worked Together As A Team

So, the election results are in, and as Mr Cameron himself might say, the electorate have sent out a clear message to our political leaders that we want the next five years to be presided over by the Conservative party. True – not everybody wants it, but the geopolitical minority obviously do. That’s democracy in action.

For the less well off, the elderly the sick, those who care about our NHS, those on low wages and zero hours contracts it maybe isn’t such an enthralling prospect. It’s another five years of living on the edge, food banks, insecure low-paying jobs, praying that you don’t ever get sick, and sort of wondering where all these people actually are who you read about in the Daily Mail? You know the ones – the ones the Sun calls ‘benefit scroungers,’ the ones who ‘come over here taking our jobs’ and walking out of benefit offices with the keys to a posh house in Mayfair and pockets stuffed with cash? The ones with the big plasma screen TVs who drive brand new BMWs, holiday in the Caribbean and dine out at Michelin starred restaurants?

I’ve never known anybody on benefits who lives like that. And I’ve known a lot of people who survive on benefits; strangely enough, none of them were exactly living the high life.

The less well off in our society – including the millions engaged in low-paid employment are pretty nervous right now. Given that the coalition government have absolutely hammered the most vulnerable in society, and with a promise of even greater austerity to come, their concerns must be taken seriously. Nick Clegg, the former Deputy PM and Lib-Dem leader has said that the influence of his party in its coalition role reined the Conservatives in to some extent, preventing them from going all-out psycho on the poor. Now that restraint has been removed and the Tories have a free hand.

Not much more than a century ago, when the British Empire was the most powerful in the world, when the rich lived in palatial luxury, the poor made the money – in the factories, in the shipyards, in the steelworks, down the coal mines, and for their labour they were worked slowly to death in appalling conditions, crowded into ramshackle slums and left to their own devices. If you didn’t work you didn’t eat, if you got sick you died. Happened every day. Most people couldn’t read or write. Travel was unheard of. People lived and died in the same small area and rarely went anywhere other than home or to work. Some joined the army, fighting for the Empire. Women were second class citizens. Life was brutal. Life was short and generally extremely unpleasant.

It was these people who were sacrificed on the fields of Flanders, these people who shed their blood, the same people who manned the factories, the mills and the pits who fought the enemy and were regarded as expendable.

Things changed. It wasn’t a simple process – this isn’t intended to be a historical document, merely a fleeting overview. Things changed because people began to care about each other, they formed alliances and fought a new enemy – oppression. The trades union movement was born – bringing equality and fairness to millions, education and womens’ rights to vote were fought for, and the crowning glory was that the National Health Service was created.

It must have seemed like Utopia – fairness at work, dignity, a sense of pride and the envy of the world – the NHS.

Consecutive governments – both Labour and Tory – have fought tooth and nail since the 1960s to either claw back, or completely remove these freedoms, and we the British public have not only allowed them to do this – we’ve given them our blessing, patted them on the back and applauded them. Something like leaving everything you’ve ever earned to your executioner because you think he’s doing a damned good job.

And before you start – no this is not some left wing socialist rant. I just want to know why we don’t seem to care about our fellow man any more. It’s a simple enough ask. We used to pride ourselves on our community and national spirit, we used to support our families, our mates and their families, our workmates, we used to have compassion, not just for our own people, for any group of people who were having a hard time. We used to send food to famine victims, help to the victims of natural disasters, and sometimes we still do back up a worthy cause but it appears to be a dying trait of our national psyche.

What happened to us? At which point did we actually stop giving a fuck about anyone else?

I spend quite a bit of time online, and sometimes it can be pretty disquieting. On the one hand you get people purring over cuddly animal stuff on Facebook, and you get people starting petitions because somebody shot a cat with a bow and arrow, or outraged because somebody dropped the ‘F’ word (The word is fuck.) on a TV newscast, and on the other hand you get people advocating gunboats in the Mediterranean and being applauded for it, and a lunatic fringe who want to pull us out of the EU because they’re afraid of Muslims. (You really couldn’t make this shit up.)

Are these people the new voice of Britain? Are these the same self-righteous people who voted in a government which has already started the creeping privatisation of the NHS? The government who vow to recoup billions from the most vulnerable in society whilst they turn a blind eye to their tax avoiding chums and the zero tax paying multinational corporations? Is this what the new voice of Britain voted for? Among a raft of equally nasty measures perpetrated by a government which will clearly only benefit the rich – who have got considerably richer as the poor die. Is this what we really want?

It must be. We voted for it. That’s democracy – even if we do have the worst performing government in a century? A government which presides over the biggest rich/poor gap since Victorian times? How did that happen?

For one thing – Rupert Murdoch and his insidious media empire. Aided and abetted by the Telegraph and the Mail. They warned of chaos if Miliband got into power and allied himself with the SNP, which seems a trifle hypocritical considering that there’s been chaos since 2010 and nobody has been effective in dealing with it. The Sun happily publishes xenophobic rants by middle aged women who ought to know better (Katie Hopkins) whilst the Express donates to UKIP, supporting its extreme right wing agenda – at the same time as the Mail, once UKIP friendly – suddenly coming to regard UKIP as a threat to the Conservative vote, omits to mention Nigel Farage at all in the days running up to the election.

UKIP were dealt a bad hand in reality – even though they shook up the mainstream parties with their xenophobic stance to a degree whereby immigration suddenly leapt up the agenda, second only to the economy. UKIP became cannon fodder because they threatened to erode the right wing vote. We all know how that turned out, and to be honest I won’t be shedding any tears over Farage. Whichever way you look at it, this election was a massive con – designed simply to divide and rule – and the electorate fell for it, hook line and sinker.

In my own constituency, Fareham, in Hampshire, a Conservative won by a landslide. I wonder if the electorate ever actually realised that by casting their votes that way they were virtually green-lighting a huge development plan known locally as Welborne, which will inevitably place unbearable strain on our already overstretched infrastructure. And that doesn’t even include further development programmes involving thousands of new dwellings. It all seems eerily reminiscent of the day after the 9/11 atrocity when I remarked to a colleague: “That was terrible. The most shocking thing I think I’ve ever seen in a nation at peace.” The reply was: “I don’t really care. It doesn’t affect me.”

But didn’t it affect us all? That’s the trouble. We’ve sold our souls. We’ve all been had. And the really sad thing is that we don’t seem to care.

Martin Shuttlecock.


8 Year Old Given 40 Lashes For Wearing Three Lions Shirt On St George’s Day

England Under Threat

England Under Threat

It should have been a normal school day for 8 year old Tommy Trinder, but things went from being horribly awry on St George’s day for young Tommy, to being life changing – and all because Tommy’s parents sent him to school wearing a ‘three lions’ England football shirt on what was supposed to be a celebration of England’s patron saint.

“It seems that there was a Muslamic teacher there who took exception to our Tommy celebrating St George’s day,” Tommy’s dad, imaginatively also named Tommy explained. “The teacher dragged young Tommy off into the school yard, ripped his three lions shirt off his back and sentenced him to 40 lashes. You don’t expect things like this to happen in Bolton.”

“I wouldn’t have minded so much,” Tommy’s distraught mother, Thomasina added. “But we didn’t even know the teacher was a Muslamicist. We thought the teachers were nuns; it’s that Burka thing. It’s confusing.”

All of which was of no consolation whatsoever to young Tommy, who was lashed 40 times with a hastily constructed cat o’ nine tails, consisting of a rounders bat, some duct tape and nine pieces of cut up Aldi washing line.

“They’d never have got away with this nonsense if Nigel Farage had been in power,” Tommy Senior complained. “I blame the European Union myself.”

Young Tommy was admitted to Bolton General Hospital suffering from what have been described as ‘whiplash injuries’ but is expected to make a full recovery.

We asked Labour councillor, Cyril Fatbloke-Fiddler for a comment but he vehemently denied having seen anything at all, claiming he was busy fiddling his expenses at the time.

Paddy Berzinski


Letter From Frank Jordan In America

Frank Jordan Pictured In West 'By God' Virginia Three Years Ago

Frank Jordan Pictured In West ‘By God’ Virginia Three Years Ago

Dear Editor:

You at Café Spike don’t do enough stories on Box Turtles. Certainly Box Turtles are not as common in the UK as they are here in the US. Box Turtles seem to be very boring creatures. Box Turtles don’t go on grand vacations to Germany and Spain like your Editor, Martin Shuttlecock. They don’t play soccer, mostly because they are very slow and getting shorts to fit them is a real challenge.

But Box turtles are very wise and I think it’s time to listen to what they have to say. Well, they don’t say much because they don’t talk. Box Turtles communicate telepathically.

I showed the latest issue of Café Spike to a Box Turtle I rescued from the middle of the road. He was so grateful that I picked him up that he went into his shell and then pissed on my hand; I learned it’s a form of gratitude.

Anyway, I showed the Box Turtle the latest issue of Café Spike and he telepathically told me there weren’t enough butt nekkid women in the issue. I also learned that Box Turtles like acronyms. Who would have guessed?

Anyway, as a loyal reader I thought you should know.


Joe Blow

Brought to you by Frank E Jordan


Northern England to bid for independence






Liverpool at night.

Liverpool at night.

With the Scottish independence vote now just a matter of hours away it’s all well and good tossing politicians and celebrities into the fray in support of the ‘No’ vote, but many observers on both sides of the border consider it a case of ‘too little too late’ and are left wondering if the ‘better together’ movement truly understand why millions of ordinary people want rid of the Westminster government.


Now we can exclusively reveal that the north of England is all set to follow Scotland’s lead and lobby for independence, although at this point in time the plans are said by campaigners to be in the embryonic stage.


“This isn’t about hating the south,” one campaigner revealed. “It’s about having the power to govern our own decision making processes and carve out our own future. It isn’t about hating the Tories or UKIP either – although admittedly most of us aren’t that keen on either of them. What it’s really about is getting shot of the wasters in Westminster. And if Scotland can do it, we’re prepared to give it our best shot.”

Drug Fuelled Orgies

A straw poll conducted by Café Spike revealed that over 90% of the population above the imaginary north/south divide which runs invisibly from The Wash to the Bristol Channel strongly believe that Westminster based MP’s spend far too much time fiddling expenses, attending drug fuelled orgies, going on Celebrity Big Brother or joining paedophile gangs. “They’re out of touch,” campaigner Bill Dobbs said yesterday. “They certainly aren’t doing what they’re paid to do. They seem to be more interested in dressing up in stockings and suspenders and having their arses whipped by fat prostitutes in underground brothels than they do in creating jobs – unless the jobs they create are for family members. The whole place (Westminster) stinks of corruption, spilt champagne and rubber johnnies. It’s nothing but a den of iniquity and we want out too.”

My Arse

“Better together my arse,” scoffed Liverpool-born campaigner Barry Millet. “They tried to strangle the North under Thatcher, and Cameron’s no better. The clown wanted to tax pies and stuff. How sick is that? We should go it alone like; sever all ties with London. For me the pie or pasty tax was the final straw. Why didn’t they try to tax canapés, eh? Eh? The UK has been systematically screwed for decades because the politicians are all in it for the back-handers dispensed by their banker masters. Did you ever see ‘Boys From The Black Stuff’? Did yer? Eh? Eh? Get rid of ’em I say!”


Opposition to an independent North of England is growing steadily. Mainly in the South. “They can’t declare independence,” Hector Strang-Burleigh who lives in Wimbledon said. “What will happen to the football? My chums and I are all avid Manchester United supporters. A devolved north would be disastrous for us. Still, I expect we could hit back by getting all my insider chums in the city to cook the books and transfer the funds to Chelsea. And what this has to do with the BBC is a complete mystery to me.”

Palace Of Westminster pictured one Sunday

Palace Of Westminster pictured one Sunday

Environmental Concerns

“We’ve got some quite cosmopolitan cities up north,” campaigner Derek Tother told us. “There’s Newcastle, Liverpool, Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Nottingham, Derby, Birmingham, Coventry, Hull – nah, strike that. Hull’s about as cosmopolitan as Grimsby. Mind you, it does have a whopping great bridge and that can’t be a bad thing. Crucially we’ve also got the infrastructure, with a good road and rail network, international airports and huge industrial capacity. When it comes to natural resources we’ve got gas and loads of coal, although I’m not so sure about opening coal mines again because it would probably raise environmental concerns with the greens.”

Not Wanted

“As far as I’m concerned mate they can all sod off,” London market trader Tommy Trickett said. “We don’t want ’em and we don’t bloody need ’em either. Bloody northern monkeys…all they’re fit for is digging bleedin’ coal up and signing on the dole. Lazy mugs to a man. I hope they do decide to cut loose – save the rest of us hard working proper Englishmen a bloody fortune. Bloody flat caps, ferrets, whippets and all that malarkey; who needs it? And once we’ve got rid of that bloody rabble we can get cracking with the Welsh and all.”


“I wish northern England all the very best in its bid for independence,” Scottish ‘Yes’ campaigner Alec Salmon (No relation) of Inverness commented. “But I agree with Tommy Trickett. We don’t want anything to do with them either. They all talk funny and they have some strange habits.”


“I’d like to reassure the good people of the north who have been mistakenly led to believe that there are certain institutions under threat,” said a leading independence campaigner. “We can offer cast iron guarantees that we will not ban black pudding, dog fighting, badger baiting, curry houses, kebab shops or working mens’ clubs. That would be biting the dog that feeds you.”

More as it comes in.


England Fanatic Feels A Bit Of A Tool After Suarez Sinks Three Lions In World Cup


This will Take Some Time Barry

This will Take Some Time Barry

England fan Barry Burns of Leicester admitted this evening that he felt like ‘a bit of a tool’ as England lost their ‘must win’ World Cup tie with Uruguay 2-1. A Wayne Rooney goal made little difference to England’s hopes for survival in the tournament as Suarez scored the winner with an assist from teammate Steven Gerrard.

We Need A Miracle Now!

“We need a miracle now,” Barry said as he started taking the flags and the bunting down outside his modest terraced home in Braunstone. “But I might as well start taking the flags down before people start taking the mickey. When we got knocked out in South Africa the wife and I kept getting woken up by late night drunks hurling abuse and mockery at the house. I feel a right proper tool now.”

Ian Wright

“Personally I think Ian Wright’s forced departure from Rio on account of his family being terrorised by burglars must have had a devastating impact on the squad,” he said. “And Phil Neville’s commentating flair must have been quite depressing too. Anyway, I’ll just watch Adrian Chiles and the panel and get myself into a suitably depressed mood before I finish taking the flags down. I always swear to burn them if we don’t win it, but they’ve cost me a fortune over the years. Shame it only lasted six days, but there’s always something to destroy team spirit. Nothing’s gone right for us in the World Cup for forty-eight years. Perhaps I was foolish to believe this one might be any different.”


Barry’s disappointment may perhaps be slightly alleviated by an idea expounded by Professor Arthur Bostik, Café Spike’s resident conspiracy theorist.


“England are cursed,” Professor Bostik stated confidently. “They have a grim history. In 1970 Bobby Moore got arrested for theft. In 1990 Gazza started blubbing and upset the team. In 2010 they were cursed by a witch doctor from Dundee. Now there’s the awful incident back home involving TV pundit Ian Wright’s family – that must have sent shockwaves throughout the squad. Inextricably linked of course with an abject failure to cope with Suarez and Balotelli. There’s a dark history at work here.”

Continental Breakfast

“No thanks,” said Barry Burns. “I’ll stick to my usual full English.”

Reporter: Graham Taylor


England World Cup Defeat Leaves Local Man With Terrible Flatulence

Was That You? Or Was It Me?

Was That You? Or Was It Me?

England’s World Cup defeat at the hands of the Italians did little to raise spirits across the nation, but the consequences for local man, Martin Shuttlecock were somewhat more severe, as he found himself scourged by a terrible bout of flatulence.

“I’m not quite sure how it came about,” Shuttlecock told Café Spike. “It must have been something I ate earlier. When Balotelli scored the winner my nether regions went completely mental. And they’re still at it. It’s like having Mount Etna in my underpants.”

Shuttlecock went on to explain that being Salford born, half Irish and a Manchester United supporter he’s never been overly enthusiastic about the England national team, although he does support them and always wants them to do well.

“Watching England is usually like watching paint dry,” he told our Haz-Mat suited reporter this morning. “They never seem to really give it a go, but to my surprise they were actually quite good last night. Raheem Sterling was outstanding – and me praising a Mickey Mouser isn’t something you’ll often hear. Then Balotelli scored and it all went a bit banana republic in me pants.”

Shuttlecock’s long suffering wife Anne bore the brunt of the sulphuric emissions.

You Can Laugh...

You Can Laugh…

“I thought for a moment there’d been a chemical spill on the road outside,” she said. “But then I looked at him and I could see he was looking a bit sheepish, so I just asked him straight out if he’d let off. He just smirked and at that point I knew it was him. It was so toxic that the wallpaper started peeling off, we lost the satellite signal on the telly and next door’s cat flung itself off their roof. I’ve never smelt anything like it. Even the milk in the fridge went sour.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Shuttlecock countered. “But she shouldn’t really be blaming me. And the ‘Dutch Oven’ in the night, I can’t accept responsibility for that. I’ll apologise by all means, but I can’t be held responsible for ‘sleep-farting.’ Anyway, I’ve taken advice from a friend who’s told me that watching France in the World Cup will shift the wind. I hope he’s right because to be honest it’s even choking me.”

More when the air freshener kicks in.


Italy Predicting An Easy Victory Over England In Manaus World Cup Tie



The entire Italian nation, press and public alike are eagerly anticipating an easy victory in the rumble in the jungle in Manaus tonight.

The mood in England appears to be slightly different, with England supporters seemingly not expecting a great deal, which makes a change.

“It’s the same every time,” said England fan Paddy Berzinski. “We go into it with high expectations and it’s a huge let down in the end. Usually resulting in riots by drunken louts in Trafalgar Square. Quite frankly I’m not even familiar with half of the England squad, so instead of getting all excited I’m just going to take myself off into the spare bedroom and play Candy Crush Saga on my iPad. Then if we win I’ll probably watch the highlights later. I like that Gary Spinnaker. He reminds me a bit of Pip Schofield off This Morning except he had a lethal left foot.”

Meanwhile in Rome Italy, Lazio and Azzuri fanatic Silvia Antipasti was in a buoyant mood.

“The English mean nothing to us. They can’t make coffee to save their lives, they’re clueless when it comes to pizza and they think tomato sauce comes in bottles with 57 printed on them. And when it comes to football, they’re just rubbish. If Pirlo’s on his game I predict a cricket score. The English haven’t performed well in the World Cup Finals since 1970, where they eventually lost to the Germans. For a change. Ha! They’re just tragic.”

Bring It On!

Bring It On!

“That’s fighting talk that is,” England fan Ned Sturgeon remarked as he read the comment from Senor Antipasti earlier today. “I’m proud to be English, me. I’m not rising to these insults. I’ll just watch the match down the pub later and hope we win. If we do I’ll be made up. If we don’t I’ll just go out in a drunken fury and randomly punch somebody in the face. Those Italians think they’re better and cooler than us – until you get one in a headlock and then they start bleating that they want their Mamas.

“It’s not even like they have anything to be proud of. That big football stadium in Rome hasn’t seen a lick of paint in two thousand years. And I know, because I’ve seen it. It’s falling to bits for God’s sake. And don’t even get me started about the war…”

England v Italy kicks off at 11pm BST.

More when we’ve watched the game.