Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Missing Person #01


Missing: Bart Eloise-Claude Muff't
Last seen: Bratislava, June 1833
Presumed whereabouts: Confirmed dead since June 1833
Distinguishing features: Small tattoo of copulating krill on left butt-cheek; Answers to the name of Donald; Has chronic fear of krill

Have you, or anyone you know (or anyone you dont' know) seen Muff't?
His family, sadly now deceased, are worried about his safety and would appreciate any information from the public that would lead to his safe return. AIf you, or anyone you know (or anyone you dont' know) have seen Muff't, please convey a message to his family at 33 Sklep, Bratislava, immediately, as long as it reaches them before the end of June 1833.
A reward (no longer valid) has been issued for his safe return, although this may be in currency now defunct. Please contact your local Bureau de Change and national time-travelling organisation for more information.
Please note: Muff't is considered dead, and should you find him please approach with caution, as by this stage he might be a zombie or, more likely, simply a corpse that happens to be in your line of sight. Also, Muff't has a history of ill-advised compulsive fingering of poisonous moustaches.
(Pantgasm disclaimer: Spottings of Muff't should be considered highly unlikely in the 21st century, and certainly not in Barnsley, where he has never been, not in life nor in death - the mark of a good man. Person pictured is Napoleon III who bears little or no resemblance to Bart Muff't; the only tenable link being perhaps the moustache, that may or may not be poisonous. History simply has failed to record that particular area of concern. We apologise on behalf of history but take no responsibility for its actions. At least not for the time being).

Monday, March 02, 2009

Obituaries: 1

Dave Sock, née Sock (9), a 50% cotton - 50% polyester foot warmer first staggered blinking into the light at the Ningbo Go-Go Knitting factory as the result of an argument between a burlap sack and a collection of militant toupees.

Adopted by a camp ball of worsted yarn, Dave's nascent perversion and prediliction for the absurd saw him grow into a fine and dynamic entrepreneur who capitalised on the demand for herring in the smaller bottom-wiping communities of the Lower Indus.

Later, his treatise on bed-wetting among middle-aged shire horses earned him a free haircut, and, inexplicably, a flatulence coupon to the value of £3.09.

It was not until his philanthropic undertakings took root though, that Dave reached the peak of his achievements. His "brown icky thing that smells of France" is internationally acknowledged as his seminal work, although he has since gone on record as saying "That's not semen, it's toothpaste. Honest."

The acclaim and wealth resulting from "Brown icky thing" allowed Dave to pursue his lifelong ambition of moving to the country. Sadly the country was Belgium, and he saw out his twighlight years under a railway bridge, in a damp cardboard box with a semi-perished novelty prophylactic and a selection of inquisitive woodlice called Deborah.

He died suddenly on March 3rd 1983, as the result of a chronic bout of flatulence during an attempt to saw a disused tank mine in half. He is survived by his illegitimate offspring: a pair of Y-fronts called Claire and a bikini twin-set, Bernard, of no fixed abode.