



It’s Sunday lunch. You’ve taken your seats at the table, polished off your first drink, and you’re presented with your starter.
‘Mmm, it’s very nice’, says one diner.
‘Yeah, very nice’, says another.
Then you say ‘I like the lettuce. I like the prawns. I even like the Marie Rose sauce. But, and it’s a big but, I’m not sure they all work together on the plate. For me, there’s just too much going on - too many flavours.’
There’s a brief silence whilst you work up a face reminiscent of a rhinoceros scratching its balls. You sigh and scratch those balls some more before you say, ‘I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THIS PLATE OF FOOD NEEDS - IT NEEDS DOG-SHIT. THERE’S…SIMPLY…NOT…ENOUGH…STEAMING…EXCREMENT…ON…THIS…PLATE!’
There’s complete silence as jaws stop chewing, the waitress faints and the restaurant manager runs into the kitchen to summon the chef.
The chef arrives, clearly to inform you of your mistake by inserting a large, sharp, stainless steel object into you. But wait, he doesn’t murder you, or kick you out of his restaurant. Instead he thanks you for your overwhelming and masterly knowledge of ingredients - in future, he says, he will include dog-shit in his Prawn Cocktail after all. This is because you are an ‘ingredients expert’.
Ingredients experts are no more at home than on the BBC’s Masterchef , a TV programme so popular, it’s now showing the fifth series in its current format after condemning the man with the world’s weirdest accent, Loyd Grossman, to a life promoting ready made pasta sauces.
Masterchef is such an enjoyable programme, we thought you might like to recreate the format at home. It’s simple. So here’s the ‘recipe’:
You will need:
and finally…
Stupid programme. You’d have to be a Mastercunt to watch it [Oh - I just did].




Following what can only be described as the most tenacious under-cover investigation the UK has ever seen from a group of TV journalists, BBC Watchdog has found that a young boy’s Nike football boots were accused of smelling of cat piss.
BBC Watchdog unveiled the disturbing truth tonight on BBC1, a television channel funded by the licence fee. This amazingly fair and brilliantly informative programme, who only last week showed its journalistic prowess by reporting that BA were simultaneously the best and worst airline in Britain, filmed the owner of the ludicrously expensive football boots (£2.5m), saying:
“I got accused of keeping the cat in my bedroom because it smelt like cat wee.”
Whether the cat smelt of wee or not was, it now seems, irrelevant. It was the devastation and shame suffered because of his family’s false accusations and the implied relationship with the family cat, that led to the young man agreeing to be interviewed by BBC Watchdog - a safe haven for ‘victims’ if ever there was one.
Although BBC Watchdog failed to discover if the cat did smell of its own piss, after many hours of research conducted by seasoned complaints gurus (Nicky Campbell and Julia Bradbury), it soon learnt that the family may have quite literally banned the boy’s shoes from the house. It has since become apparent that the boy’s parents might have been asked by the BBC Watchdog team to confirm whether they had in fact banned the football boots from the house. Spitting Bullets is almost certain that if they had been asked whether the boy’s football boots had been banned from the house, they would have said:
“Yes, we’ve banned the football boots from the house.”
The turmoil and suffering experienced by this young and aspiring soccer devotee will no doubt affect him deeply - perhaps even, until he receives his next expensive and hugely disappointing piece of over-priced sweatshop produced footwear.
When contacted by Spitting Bullets, a spokesperson from ITV said that there were no members of the BBC Watchdog team available for comment. They suggested that anybody interested in pursuing this story further, should try contacting the BBC directly.
Copyright © 2008 Spitting Bullets




Now that the Olympic flag has officially been handed over to London’s Mayor Boris Johnson in Beijing, Spitting Bullets is proud to announce its status as ‘Unofficial Organiser’ of London’s 2012 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony.
London’s bid to create a unique festival atmosphere in 2012 will surely be boosted by the involvement of Spitting Bullets, with an incredible line-up of some of Great Britain’s finest, encapsulated in a schedule based on very little research and an enormous amount of Pukka Pies.
Here is a provisional schedule, celebrating all that is great and some that is British:
The Olympic Ceremony’s cursory nod to Her Majesty the Queen, performed in under half-an-hour by tribute band ‘Take That, That, and That You Naughty Boy’ (All 107 new verses will be performed with help from the Jehovah’s Witnesses).*
*CENSORSHIP WARNING - May contain references to the sins of masturbation in verses 3-109.
In the ceremony’s opening event, a guest appearance from Margaret Thatcher disguised as a pantomime horse, should get the show up and running at a gallop. Lady Thatcher will be gently wheeled out to the centre of the Olympic Stadium by her two close friends Michael Heseltine and Arthur Scargill, bent over double and tied to a post. Her bare bottom will be presented to a group of over 200 blindfolded ex-coalminers, who will then attempt to ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’, using an official Olympic javelin. (This event may over-shoot.)
[Unfortunately, due to Team GB's extraordinary and unfathomable success in the Beijing Olympics 2008, Spitting Bullets has had to re-think this event following the banning of all British athletes from taking part. However, letters have been sent out to the Head Coach of Team Australia to encourage its athletes to take part - there are some promising early signs, however, being good at losing doesn't come easy to this colony of former 'crims', who've behaved like petulant teenage toss-pots since coming 6th in the 2008 Medals Table. Will they be ready in time? - the big question that no-one is asking.]
Several thousand members of the Women’s Institute (WI), whilst feeding each other cheeses and pineapples on sticks, will each mount a Penny Farthing before cycling feverishly around the Olympic Velodrome. They will then dismount and serve cups of tea to all the competitors, before each athlete is thrown individually onto the track - watch out for the other European teams as they struggle with the addition of fresh milk - this could be one to remember (although it’s highly unlikely - Ed.).
No sporting event in Great Britain can be held without the expression of some kind of anti-German sentiment, and what better time to shame a nation than at an Olympic Games Opening Ceremony. In true British fashion, the spectators will be encouraged to shout anti-German slogans* such as “Kraut”, “Sausage Chomper” and “Who Won the War?” at the German team. Alternatively, for the Under 18s, Spitfire and Lancaster modelling demonstrations** will take place near the Under 5s at the sand-pit.
*Programmes with official Olympic anti-German slogans can be bought for £27.50 from the foyer before the ceremony begins.
**Please bring your own Airfix kit.
Presented by two life-like puppets of Ant and Dec and featuring the voice of Keith Harris, Simon Cowell and other similarly piss-poor celebrity programme producers argue amongst themselves as to who should be shot in 2012’s X-ecution Factor. The winner wins a coffin worth £1 million pounds. As part of the contract, proceeds from the sale of the winner’s estate will go directly to the British Olympic Association.
To the catchy tune of Noel Gay’s ‘Doin’ the Lambeth Walk’ (Me and My Girl 1937), famous Cockney people such as celebrity Eastender’s stalwarts Barbara Windsor and Patsy Palmer will join Prime Minister Boris Johnson by leading the world’s greatest athletes through the world’s greatest walk - choreography will be directed ‘on stage’ by ballet guru Wayne Sleep. All athletes will be expected to sing with ‘fakkin East Landon’ accents, ‘aw’ight’. Those spectators who are still awake, will be encouraged to join in with the singing too.*
*See Official Programme for lyrics.
Elton John will make a guest appearance dressed in a stunning jacket created by art designers Gilbert & George from a medium of closely woven dog shit and litter found floating in the Thames. His role will be to introduce 5000 Morris Dancers individually by name (and Seb Coe thought it wise to joke? - Ed.), before asking them to leave. There will be no actual dancing.
Gordon Brown sells his wordly goods to help get Britain out of debt - Spitting Bullets predicts a thrilling spectacle.
Exactly who will light the Olympic Torch will remain a secret until the big day itself - but Spitting Bullets can reveal that London 2012 will showcase the world’s first fighter plane ever to be used as an Olympic Torch. Celebrating Frank Whittle and his incredibly British contribution to the invention of the jet engine - a decommisioned Tornado fighter jet bearing the words ‘Spitting Bullets All Over Baghdad’ will be positioned vertically and nose first into the ground at the centre of the Olympic Stadium. As everyone awaits the arrival of the last London Olympic Torch bearer - the sound of gunfire, recorded from a WWII Vickers Tank will play over the sound system. When the Olympic Torch is lit and the Tornado’s engines roar* - the games will officially commence.
*Spectators and Olympic athletes are reminded NOT to intefere with the fuel line running from the car-park to the Olympic Torch, under any circumstances.
Visit the official Olympic Website to book your London 2012 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony tickets early to avoid disappointment:
Copyright © 2008 Spitting Bullets


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