What Do You Mean, Are We Still Here?

Dip your bread - get in there!

Dip your bread – get in there!

As our regular reader – who has probably wandered off somewhere – and one or two others may be aware, we’ve been offline for a while recently. We’re not telling you why, because frankly it’s none of your business. What we are prepared to reveal is that we haven’t been in prison or been sanctioned by the internet or anything like that.

Or at least not that we noticed.

But now we’re back, hopefully to amuse and entertain. That’s if we can root out stuff to write about that’s either amusing or entertaining, and if we can be arsed to do it. What we won’t be doing is posting poxy links to nonsense sites. There’s way too much of that going on in the wacky world of the internet as it is. After all, there are only so many vines showing kittens cuddling up to babies and dickheads trying to be gangstas that a person can stand, without putting one’s sanity at risk.

It’s the same with memes – Facebook is plastered with them, and in our opinion they’re all shite. Faux words of wisdom and advice put out by cretins.

If you’re offended by our attitude, please feel free to fuck right off. We’re as grumpy as shit and proud of it. It’s what happens when you spend too long reading Mail Online comments – you begin to loathe humanity, that’s if there’s any humanity on show there in the first place. And don’t even get us started on the Express comments – they make Iain Duncan Smith look compassionate by comparison.

Speaking of Iain Duncan Smith: Is it just us or is he getting to look more like a shark with every passing day? A voracious and ultimately merciless predator? Something to ponder. Can’t help but think his mother would have been doing the world a favour if she’d sat on the little fucker at birth and crushed the life out of him. We can imagine the birth – he’d have chewed his way out of his mother’s womb and erupted into the world with the ferocity of the chestbusting alien out of that old film. The one with John Hurt in it.

We need a bit more practice at this, obviously. It’s like a footballer or a boxer coming back after a lengthy lay off. One gets a tad rusty.

This article – if you can call it that – was written as an off the cuff tribute to that wonderful composer Johann Sebastian Bach – who popped his clogs a long time ago, but whose musical gifts to the world live on.

Paddy Berzinski


At Last – Cafe Spike Gets The Chance To Put The Boot In On Jeremy Corbyn

Keeping Schtum - Jeremy Corbyn - A Pic We Nicked Off The Internet.

Keeping Schtum – Jeremy Corbyn – A Pic We Nicked Off The Internet.

In the complicated world of international news media, poor old Café Spike comes way down in the pecking order when it comes to publishing articles of national importance. It’s been six weeks since we submitted our application to run an article slamming Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn – and we finally got permission from the Ministry Of Disinformation this morning, personally signed off by Robert Danvers-Fotheringay, the Ministry’s Senior Minister.

Our brief was simple – dish the dirt on Corbyn and spread it liberally all over social media. Except…it wasn’t quite so simple. As any reporter worth his/her salt would do as a matter of course, we trawled through existing articles which purported to dish the dirt on Corbyn, and quite frankly they weren’t very impressive.

As usual the Express and the Mail led the pack with a zeal bordering on bloodlust, and the remarkable revelation surfaced that Corbyn has been married twice! Oh, the scandal! The impact of this hard hitting exclusive was somewhat dulled when his first wife revealed that they had separated amicably and remain on good terms. She also revealed that Jeremy was the stay at home type who liked to spend his evenings relaxing and eating cold baked beans from the tin. The late Keith Moon probably wouldn’t have been very impressed by that – Moon probably had more remarkable trips to the toilet in his heyday.

‘He talks to terrorists!’ the tabloids screamed. People like Hamas, the IRA, Hezbollah, and probably Hannibal Lecter, the Yorkshire Ripper and Satan himself. Corbyn supporters argue that the job of a politician is to tackle problems, and that problems can’t be tackled without dialogue. Bugger! That’s another angle flying out the window.

All that’s happened in the concerted media campaign to blacken Corbyn’s character is that it’s backfired spectacularly. Instead of smearing Corbyn – they’ve served only to enhance his reputation as a straight talking, thoughtful, honest politician. Until now.

In a shocking Café Spike exclusive, we can exclusively reveal in our exclusive that Mr Corbyn has an Achilles heel. When tasked with dishing the dirt, Café Spike never fails to come up with the goods, and it all happened right under the noses of hordes of press and TV reporters.

Following the announcement of Mr Corbyn’s landslide victory in the Labour leadership election, his first move was to go with crowds of supporters and the media to The Sanctuary, a pub and hotel situated on Tothill Street in the heart of Westminster, a short walk from Parliament and St James’s Park underground station.

One of our reporters has been in The Sanctuary – Martin Shuttlecock once visited the establishment to attend a meeting, and from what he says about it, it isn’t the sort of place where a potential Prime Minister should be hanging out.

“As soon as I walked in there the alarm bells started ringing,” Shuttlecock told us. “Somebody said that a rat had poked its head in the door – and this in broad daylight – but the barman put it down to construction work going on down the street. Then as I purchased a drink from the bar and took a seat I immediately noticed a crowd of men huddled around a TV set watching a West Ham game on the TV and cheering every time the Hammers did something useful with the ball. Suffice to say, they weren’t cheering much, but West Ham? I’ve seen ‘Green Street Hooligans’ so I know all about West Ham. For Jeremy Corbyn to go in that pub is a disgrace. He ought to be ashamed of himself. I know I was.”

Reporter – Paddy Berzinski