READER: Doh….

MYSELF: Why the long face?

READER: I’m not happy with the way Brexit has turned out.

MYSELF: Really? Well, join the club (no pun intended). I mean, you’ve got what you wanted haven’t you? OK, we’ll all have to get visas and new passports and spend even longer waiting to cross our newly-reclaimed borders, but so be it, you know. The “people” have spoken.

READER: I’ve no idea what you're talking about. The reason I voted to leave the EU was to bring back proper British kippers like we used to have.

MYSELF: Kippers, ah yes of course.

READER: British kippers mind you, from Craster in Northumberland, not these sissy French ones with olive oil and garlic and God knows what else...

MYSELF: Filthy foreign muck.

READER: ...and bendy bananas with slippery skins you can drop in the path of pursuing clowns.

MYSELF: Clowns? 

READER: Real clowns, not your chalk-faced French clowns with normal sized feet trying to escape from glass cases. I’m talking about proper clowns with red eyes and scary teeth who drive cars that fall to bits and eat goldfish.

MYSELF: There’s the rub.

ALTERED STATES

Following the surprise emergence of hibernating weasel Nigel Farage, Ant and Dec, from their tree house on the set of I’m an Unemployed Actor - Get Me Some Voice Over Work, have announced they will be jointly applying for the job of leader of the Conservative Party after the election.

“If Nigel can do it, so can we”, Ant (or was it Dec?) told us.

“Totes”, added Dec or Ant.  “plus, with our cheeky faces and chirpy Geordie banter the Tories would emerge from the ruins of obscurity smelling of roses and we'd be prime ministers!”.

“Absolutely”, agreed the other one, “we’ll get tough on crime by sacking all the lefty lawyers and judges and start giving out proper sentences. Having to eat kangaroo bollocks or bathe in a barrel of worms every time you got caught sleeping rough or being mental would reduce crime overnight.”

At this point the interview was terminated and the two giggling midgets were hastily ushered away by the producer of the show. He was seen later wearing boxing gloves and angrily, punching them repeatedly in the face.

Ant & Dec are 52.

YOU’RE FINE, HOW AM I?

Psychic Doris, Upper Dicker’s top mystic, has announced a price rise. From next Friday you can chat to her online about the hereafter live for £7.50 per minute, or dead for £11.75 per minute (+VAT). “We apologise for the increase”, her agent Ron Hoax told us, “it’s all down to the reduced supply of ectoplasm following Covid and the war in Ukraine, which, let’s face it, none of us saw coming”.

HOTPANCE

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NIGHT THOUGHTS

An all-inclusive non-denominational service for the superstitiously insecure hosted by swinging vicar the reverend Ron Dogger

What makes us laugh? As a vicar I am often asked “if Jesus were alive today, what kind of comedy would he have liked? Lenny Bruce or Roy “Chubby” Brown? Would he have watched Bullseye or Mastermind”? I’m inclined to think that Christ's comedy preferences leaned more towards the surrealistic humour of Spike Milligan or Monty Python, although as a Presbitarian, He may well have drawn the line at Life of Brian.

Dominus vobiscum!

LETTERS

A WORD IN YOUR OAR
via email
Dear Life,
I recently completed Sausage Life's so-called "very very very difficult crossword", which took me all of 4min 27secs, including 31.4secs answering the door. As a former district crossword champion (Padstow 1966) I feel compelled to point out that the so-called solution you published is in fact just a collection of meaningless non-existent words. Take 5 down, Phouress. What is that supposed to mean? 4 across, Gbini. No such word! 12 down, Lampotiti, Lampotiti?!!! Well I'm up to your little game let me tell you. You can't pull the wragnglol over my eyes!

Stanley P. Groyne,
Assistant treasurer
The East Sussex Society of Insoluble Equations
Neuroses
Kent

MYSELF: Stanley was not the only reader to fall for our Sausage Life April Fool prank crossword! The clues set by Ron Snyde our compiler deliberately led the puzzler to believe that meaningless, non-existent words were the solution!

(It even had me fooled for a smakaedrion- ed).

Late news flash

JACKSON’S NOSE DESTROYS BRIDGE

Michael Jackson’s nose, which is thought to have been stolen during the late singer’s autopsy, appears to have mutated into a colossal Barry Manilow style schnozz which is now terrorising the north coast of Japan. Hovering at 3,000 feet, the surgically enhanced proboscis has completely destroyed Tokyo’s famous Rainbow Bridge with exploding missiles fired from its huge nostrils.

Dr. Roto Noto-Moto of the Japanese Institute of Monsters told us, “The entertainer’s nose is thought to have grown to unimaginably gigantic proportions after it was hidden in a hive containing radioactive bees, which stung the nose repeatedly. The army, navy and air force have surrounded the area but their efforts have so far been confounded by the nose’s uncanny ability to move backwards whilst appearing to travel forwards”.

Sausage Life!