Pandemonium and chaos was brought forth this week when democratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton made herself cry again after multiple losses to Obama.
As she stepped onto the podium her supporters realised she was going to start crying again and that is when all hell broke loose. The election security detail tried to evacuate the area as quickly as they could, but the sheer panic was overwhelming.
“Hillary started to cry quite suddenly, and that’s when everyone started to stampede. We know about her crocodile tears,” a hapless Clinton supporter told the Daily Squib.
Hilary Clinton’s tears have such a high acid ph value that they can burn through steel and pretty much any man made material. Some scientists have tried unsuccessfully to analyse the tears, but have not been able to because they burn through all the equipment.
Hillary Clinton’s tear drop goes through the titanium steel election podium like a knife through butter
“Hillary’s tears are like the blood of the aliens from the movie ‘Aliens’ starring Sigourney Weaver. That stuff burns through anything and never stops. We have to be very careful when she flies or is on a boat so as not to make her cry,” one of her campaign managers who recently quit told us.
Hillary Clinton has never been filmed blinking her eyes, so how she conjures up realistic looking tears and what looks to be some kind of emotion is a mystery to many political watchers.
Some commentators even go so far as to suggest that Hillary’s tears are a cynical ploy to influence voters. Surely not?
If anyone has any footage of Hillary Clinton blinking please phone the Daily Squib offices immediately for a substantial cash reward – CALL 0891- CROCO
Twenty years of age and too old to be adopted by a celebrity, Ondongo cuts a lonely figure in the village where children used to play once and elders sat telling stories amongst the corrugated iron huts.
The village has been decimated by a mass of celebrity adoptions which has effectively turned the whole area into a wasteland.
Children who were once the lifeblood of this tiny hamlet deep in the wilds of Uganda are now propped up in places like Manhattan, Kensington or Beverly Hills, living in mansions with Olympic swimming pools and walk-in cupboards decked to the hilt with thousands of expensive clothes and shoes.
“The heart of this community has been torn out by these vanity celebrity adoptions,” Jill Severino, a relief worker from Médecins Sans Frontières, told the Daily Squib on Friday.
There used to be 30 families living in this village and now they have all gone. As well as A-list celebrities there have also been adoptions from D-listers who wish to jump on the ‘celebrity adoption’ bandwagon.
After adopting a boy from the same village, pop star Madonna, even went to great lengths to have jungle scenes painted on the bedroom walls of her African boy’s quarters to make him feel more at home. Amongst other well known celebrities, David Beckham has also adopted a Ugandan boy as well as Angelina Jolie.
“It’s the next accessory amongst the new breed of celebrity; they already have the private jets, Aston Martins and everything and anything they want. Keeping up with the Jones’ is not cheap – especially if you’re the typical shallow celebrity,” Charles Peters head of the XTM PR agency told the Daily Squib from his offices in London.
There have been instances where some celebrities have wanted their first choice exchanged for another child due to unforeseen circumstances – like clashing with the decor scheme.
The brokers usually line up the children before the celebrities arrive. There is normally a brief ceremony of dancing and singing once the celebrity has chosen which African boy or girl they want to try out.
Once the children are successfully patriated and settled within the celebrity household they are not viewed as pure ornaments and objects of interest, but as real live attractions to be paraded in front of the media networks and cameras. That is until the next celebrity craze comes along.
With a health service that is buckling under the weight of serious underfunding, massive UK immigration and unfettered wasteful spending of the meagre cash it gets, is there any hope for the ailing sick patient called the NHS?
Labour Ministers have come up with a solution for the NHS which will revolutionise health care in Britain.
The new fleet of NHS ambulances will pick patients up and take them directly to the cemetery thus saving billions of pounds per annum.
“Why bother with MRSA filled hospitals and substandard underfunded wards where death roams day and night? This way, everyone’s a winner. More taxpayers billions can now be diverted to great causes like Northern Wreck and fruitless conflicts like Afghanistan and Iraq. Think about the amount of empty hospital beds that we will now have,” Health Minister, Alan Johnson told a Commons Select Committee this morning.
The one-stop solution for the new look NHS was hailed as a much needed boost for Labour in the Commons when Health Secretary Alan Johnson announced the overhaul after last year’s draft white paper.
“Now if you call for an ambulance and are in dire need of assistance we can be with you within five minutes from anywhere in the UK and have you six feet under in less than fifteen minutes saving thousands of pounds per patient in administrative costs, hospital staffing costs and maintenance.”
As of tomorrow the new NHS scheme will come into effect for the benefit of the whole UK.
Passengers on the Air Force One flight from Washington to London said the president was restrained after yelling and “invoking his God” while sitting at his presidential chair more than 30,000 feet above the
Atlantic.
The flight was forced to make an emergency diversion to
Ireland’s Shannon Airport early on Monday and the ailing lame duck president
was taken to a nearby psychiatric unit.
Alan Johnson, one of 43 passengers on board, said the president of the United States was
carried into the baggage hold with his hands and ankles cuffed after he was
restrained by cabin crew and one of his speech writers. The president was then handcuffed to a seat and fed more bananas to shut him up as the
captain requested permission to land from Irish air traffic
authorities. “He was worse than usual. Dick Cheney wasn’t even in the room and he was still talking to some kind of God,” Johnson told the Daily Squib. “His voice was clear, he didn’t
sound like he was as drunk as he usually is and he was swearing and asking for
God. He specifically said he wants to talk to his God.”
‘I am driven with a mission from God.’ Bush then shouted, ‘George go
and fight these terrorists in Afghanistan’. And I did. And then God
would tell me ‘George, go and end the tyranny in Iraq’. And I did.”
Mr
Bush went on: “And now, again, I feel God’s words coming to me, ‘Go bomb
the terrorists in Iran and cause a nuclear war, and bring perpetual war and pestilence on the whole world’. And, by God, I’m gonna do it.”
President George W Bush speaks to his God on Air Force One
It
is understood that the crew first became concerned less than an hour before
they were due to arrive at Heathrow, when the president began “speaking
loudly to his God and acting in an even more peculiar fashion than usual”, according to one
source. The president was talking to his God with such lucidity that it even scared his handlers. The flight arrived
at Heathrow eight hours late.
An Air Force One spokesman confirmed that the flight captain had requested a “medical diversion” to Shannon.
“The president fell ill during the flight and the captain elected to divert
to Shannon,” he said. “The aircraft landed without incident. At no time
was the safety of the passengers or crew in question. The flight was
met by medical personnel and the president is now in care.”
A spokesman for Shannon Airport said: “We were advised that the president was unwell and that was the reason for the diversion. We prepared a cage for the president and his favourite bananas.”
Members of the president’s family including Barney the dog and a representative of the Pentagon flew to Shannon yesterday.
You can all rest assured that the largest nuclear arsenal in the history of mankind is in safe hands tonight.
The LAPD, Texas Rangers, SWAT, Navy Seals and Canadian Mounties have all joined the search for Britney Spears after she escaped through a tiny window in the maximum security mental wing of the UCLA hospital where she was being held.
After being committed to the UCLA mental asylum on Thursday, Ms Spears was deemed “Gravely Disabled” by the doctors.
Fernando Rodriguez, one of the hospital attendants, told the Daily Squib, “We don’t know what time she escaped, but it was between her meds – between 4 and 5 in the morning. Oh lord! If she don’t take her meds it ain’t gonna be pretty y’all.”
The UCLA area has been besieged by thousands of photographers and news crews. The air is so thick with news helicopters that a midair collision is inevitable.
California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has called for a code Red
Alert situation and is under mounting pressure to call in more state
troopers from neighbouring states to calm the situation.
Britney, the ailing celebrity mime artist, apparently blew a gasket when she heard that her whole estate is now under the care of her divorced parents.
Britney’s father has already moved his trailer into the grounds of her mansion and her mother seeks to follow next week. The chickens and farm animals will also be shipped in with the extended family of 450 cousins, aunts, uncles and assorted offspring.
Britney’s dad outside his Alabama trailer earlier in the week
The Los Angeles area has been warned not to confront the crazed celebrity walking around talking gibberish with a fake cockney accent.
“She will probably run for the nearest Starbucks or drug store to buy laxatives and Red Bull. If anyone has any petite dogs, which are popular with celebrities, please keep them locked inside your homes. Do not confront Britney or offer assistance because you may be in severe danger – just dial 911 or run as fast as you can,” Officer Timpson from UCLA Police Dept. announced on the K-ROQ radio station last night.
Osama Lutfink, her manager, was fighting back tears at the thought of the pain and suffering poor Britney must be going through.
“I am a compassionate man and my heartfelt condolences go out to everybody who cares for her. We will restore her finances and accounts to their rightful place very soon — in my full control.”
If you see Britney CALL Emergency Helpdesk TOLL FREE : 1-899 INS-ANE
Britney Spears the ailing autotune celebrity has been ordered by the Catholic church and her keepers to undergo an exorcism.
The once-in-a-lifetime experience will be filmed live on MTV and broadcast all over the world.
After having 12 highly public nervous breakdowns in January, Ms Spears is slowly reducing the monthly frequency of her breakdowns from a high of 34 in December.
Pope Benedict himself has intervened on this sensitive matter and has ordered his chief exorcist to complete the harrowing task of casting out the devil and satan’s demons from Britney.
Britney has already tried the typical celebrity wishy-washy cults like Scientology and Madonna’s celebrity perversion of the real Kaballah, but these only perpetuated her illness and made her even more sick than she already is.
The Clenbuterol worked for awhile but the crystal meth and cocaine was a bridge too far. The rehab did not work and having the starlet chained down in an ambulance did not restrain her.
Adnan Ghalib, her paparazzi boyfriend, fears for his subject and has concerns that she may not complete her contractual obligations with him if the demons are not cast out soon.
“It’s Britney, bitches.”
“Her room is always very cold and there is a frost in the air. She speaks with many tongues, including a fake British accent and she levitates every few seconds. I am sick of the pea soup that is projectile vomited from her cussing mouth. Her eyes are red – is that normal?”
The Daily Squib reporter, Ebner Pazuzu, accompanied Ghalib and a bodyguard into the ailing celebrities room when she started speaking an ancient British dialect called ‘mockney’. After levitating above the bed for a few minutes, Britney regurgitated fifteen bags worth of Cheetos and a Starbucks Mocha with extra chocolate sprinkles onto our terrified reporter. Our reporter has since been given compassionate leave.
“She then started to walk down the stairs backwards on all fours. At first we thought she was practising a dance routine for a performance but when her head made a 360 degree turn we knew this was something else.”
MTV will broadcast the LIVE Exorcism this Friday at 8pm PST.
Unelected comrade Brown announced at the People’s Republic Square in
Trafalgar on Monday to a gathering of the one party state and assembled
workers that Britannia will be removed from the fifty pence coin.
The imperialistic capitalistic remnant of the Phoenician Barati,
Britannia, will be erased thankfully by our supreme leader after over
300 years on the coin.
After signing away national sovereignty and all British laws to Europe in December, Britain (soon to be sector 4), will be joined to the United Europe Federation. The supreme unelected leader is erasing all past history – for
it is all irrelevant now under the new Brownite Era.
“I, as leader of the New Age of Change, announce from next week that all
prole workers and party officials will be able to pay for goods with the new improved fifty pence
piece. With the advent of the new design and the elimination of the
sordid imperialist capitalist image of Britannia there will be true
impetus embracing our new era within the Soviet Europe Union.”
Standing in the People’s Republic Square in Trafalgar, Comrade Brown
also announced an increase in the bread ration for the month of January
to one whole loaf per household per month. A supreme reward to all
prole workers for the increase in production in the New Era of
Change.
The supreme unelected commander then made a speech that surprised one of the party members and revealed him to be a traitor to the state.
“There has been criticism of comrade Milliband by the Central
Committee.
Comrade Milliband – the most dedicated to our cause. He shall give his life for
the cause of the party. But we cannot overlook his weakness in certain aspect of
his work. Comrade Milliband as our Minister of Foreign Affairs, finding himself at
a “slippery” Diplomatic Reception, gave assurance to an American
diplomat that the capitalists can start to publish bourgeois newspapers in our
country. Why? Was that the place to give such an assurance, without the
knowledge of the Labour Party? Is it not self-evident that the bourgeoisie is our
class enemy and to promote bourgeois newspapers amongst our party people besides
doing harm, shall not bring us any benefit. If this were allowed to transpire,
we could foresee circumstances where the attacks against Socialism and the Labour government
would be started, first very subtly then overtly. This is the first political
mistake of comrade Milliband.”
Comrade Milliband was then escorted from the podium by four Stasi
guards and will thus continue his service to the state from a gulag somewhere in
Northern England.
Just when you thought it could not get any worse for Britney, she has now been photographed by the paparazzi having an orgy at her mansion with paparazzi photographers.
There were queues of paparazzi waiting for their turn to ‘shag’ Ms Spears outside her Hollywood mansion all of Friday and Saturday.
Adnan’s success with bedding Britney has opened the floodgates for a debauched paparazzi orgy LA has never seen before.
“I’m so excited! I get to do Britney doggy style then sell the pics for a few thousand,” an ecstatic pap from the Splash agency, who can’t wait to make a splash over Britney’s ass, told the Squib.
According to the rules posted on the lamp post outside Britney’s mansion only 30 paparazzi are permitted to have sex with her at the same time, so this is why the buzzing queue stretches for three blocks.
You can hear the paparazzi discussing lens sizes and stalking techniques through the warm Los Angeles night air.
Every paparazzi in Los Angeles and California is in Britney’s street and some have even flown over from New York to get the chance of penetrating Britney.
“I flew in this morning, yeah, my whole agency is here. One of our guys Billy has already queued up four times and he still wants another crack at her loose oyster.”
Britney Spears has started a new craze amongst celebrities.
Sleeping with the paparazzi and allowing them to profit off the pictures. The new in-phrase is ‘exploitation therapy’.
I haven’t weighed myself for two and a half minutes, and even though I’m convinced I have the body of a heifer, it seems strange that I still find it hard to squeeze into a size minus three dress.
“A lady never likes to be asked her weight, and particularly not this one”
Like most women, I’ve tried every diet in the book, so when Channel 4 paid me loads of ‘wonga’ to investigate the world of “get thin quick”, I couldn’t wait to get started.
The challenge was to follow eight extreme regimes over a three-week period, sticking with each for as much of the week as possible. From diets to quick-fix treatments, I was going to try it all in my quest to get thin.
Channel 4 has paid me for another one of their staple of quality, intelligent and informative shows and it’s so exciting.
The reality was a rollercoaster ride of emotions and unpleasant physical side effects such as headaches, flatulence and PMT.
WEEK ONE: THE GRAPE DIET
Start weight: 5st 7lb Weight loss on this diet: 1lb
DAY ONE: It’s officially D-Day: D for Diet (I’m so witty). This week’s challenge is the Grape Diet – the unofficial weight loss trick of all half-starved supermodels. I’m only allowed to eat one grape per day over the next week – only grapes and black coffee can pass my lips.
Are they mad? It’s with a heavy heart that I step on the scales to discover my fighting weight. I nearly faint. I’m 5st 7lb! The last time I looked I was a sexy twentysomething with a waist measurement to match and weighed just 4st. How did I get to 37 and be as fat as a fishwife?
Crunch time: Anna Schwartz laid out on the slab – it’s a long way to size minus four
My body is basically in proportion – there’s just too much of it. Something drastic needs to happen. I reach for a grape.
DAY TWO:
I’m up at 4.30am ready to catch the 7am Eurostar to Paris to do a shoot. I pack a grape in my satchel and down a cup of black coffee.
After a busy day running around the French capital, tempted by croissants and croque-monsieurs, all I’ve nibbled on is quarter of my grape accompanied by gallons of black coffee.
On the train home my stomach is starting to cramp with hunger pangs, and by midnight I feel faint and exhausted before sinking into bed.
DAY THREE:
I wake up with raging PMT and break a mirror over my boyfriend’s head whilst screaming like a rabid banshee – I’m fucking hungry too. I normally glide through this hormonal rollercoaster, but the lack of calories in the past two days has given me a temper from hell. I need chocolate.
Instead, I have to make do with one grape. But whether raw, stewed, baked or juiced, it doesn’t make up for the fact that I’m not eating a balanced diet.
Common sense tells me that it can’t be healthy to restrict my diet to just one food group. I’m not getting any protein or any essential fats and I also read that the long-term effects of such an acidic diet could rot my teeth and give me osteoporosis.
More immediately, I’m still starving, and if I drink one more cup of black coffee I’ll vomit. I’m also constipated: I haven’t been to the toilet for three days.
DAY FOUR:
I’ve eaten more than 4 grapes in three days and been beside myself with hunger, so I nearly burst into tears when I discover I’ve only lost 1lb. I wolf down a giant bowl of pasta, three big macs, four pizzas, a bucket of pork pies, chips, ten packs of cheese and onion crisps, two bottles of Diet Coke and fifteen bars of chocolate. It tastes wonderful. That’s when I stick my fingers down and bring the whole lot up again.
I don’t care if I’m not supermodel skinny. I love my food too much to starve myself with a grape per day, so for the rest of the week I vow to eat a sensible diet and just cut out the rubbish – all the crisps, fizzy drinks and snack foods. Thankfully, I don’t put any of the weight back on.
That night I do a tiny poo in the toilet and it plops in the bowl. Three hours of straining for that?
WEEK TWO: THE QUICK-FIX EXTREME WEIGHT-LOSS DIET
Start weight: 5st 6lb Weight loss: 2lb
DAY ONE:
Now this is the kind of dieting I like! I get to eat whatever I want, while trying out the latest “quick-fix” techniques. Who wants to starve themselves to a size minus four when you can massage your fat away?
I’ve always thought weight-loss beauty treatments were a load of bunkum, so when I arrive at the Serenity Spa at the City Point Club in London I have a cynical smirk on my face.
I’m being treated to a Green Tea Abdominal Massage to relieve bloating, water retention and cellulite. It’s been coined the “natural tummy tuck” by devotees. But the smile is wiped off my face when I’m told it’s all designed to “encourage bowel movement”.
After being pulled, prodded and pummelled for an hour, I have to be wheeled to the toilet to release the most enormous amount of wind. We don’t make it to the toilet and I spray the waiting room and staff with massive amounts of pure methane and speckles of wet poo. But I’ve lost an incredible 7cm off my waist and 5cm off my hips. Hooray!
Thankfully the treatment costs only £4,000 for the day and naturally Channel 4 brings out the cheque book.
DAY TWO:
Quick-fix surgery as a means to instant weight loss has been the preferred method for many a celeb.
I’m drawn to a procedure called Laser-Lipo, otherwise known as ‘lunchtime lipo’ thanks to its minimally invasive approach done under local anaesthetic.
Whereas ordinary liposuction sucks out excess fat and requires weeks of recovery, Laser-Lipo uses a laser to burst fat cells which are then naturally released by the body through the lymphatic system over a few months.
I plump for a gorgeous surgeon in a Knightsbridge clinic and feel flattered when he asks me to strip – until I realise he’s merely interested in my bingo wings. We make a date for him, me and the laser.
DAY THREE:
I arrive at the clinic early. Because I suffer with diarrhoea, I ask the surgeon to use a local anaesthetic that doesn’t contain adrenaline. Big mistake. Adrenaline makes anaesthetic more effective and prevents excess bleeding. Take it away and it hurts. A lot.
The surgeon has made a cut on my left arse cheek and I wince with pain as he feeds the laser under the skin and begins to melt my fat. Like an episode of ER, I see beads of perspiration form on his forehead as he tries to tackle the blood streaming from my ass hole. I’m white, shaky and sweating like a Catholic priest at a choir boys convention.
After 20 minutes of drama, he puts safety first and calls an end to the surgery. I’ve only had one arse cheek done. I’m lopsided! But he bandages me up, and after a cup of hot, sweet tea, I go home and burst into tears. Now it hurts even more when I release wind.
DAY FOUR:
I’m taking painkillers and am still in a state of shock when I go back for my check-up. But I’m glad that I did. My surgeon reassures me that I’m the milliontoone girl who simply had an unlucky experience.
He expects the third degree burns (from arse to elbow) to be there for two weeks, but he’s keen for me to return to have my right cheek done when the skin grafts heal.
It’s made me think twice, though, about quick-fix surgery. It’s no to the knife for me from now on and at £8,500 per session Channel 4 picks up the tab again.
Amazingly, I’ve lost 2lb this week – through pure fear, I expect. Quick fixes sound good, but that’s enough trauma for my body, thank you.
WEEK THREE: THE BABY FOOD DIET
Start weight: 5st 4lb Weight loss: 2lb
DAY ONE:
Apparently, eating baby food is the slimming secret of Hollywood star Jennifer Aniston. Something to do with tiny portions and a tiny spoon equals a tiny waist. No wonder Brad Pitt left her.
The TV production team arrive with more than 30 jars of organic mush – all beige. I can treat myself to “cheesy pasta bake”, “apple and pear”, “creamed porridge” and “apricot and yoghurt” – although I draw the line at “mashed Sunday roast”.
The good news is that I have to replace only two meals a day with a pot of baby food, so at least I’ll get to eat a proper meal at some point within 24 hours. I grab my tiny plastic spoon and tuck into a 3in pot of slime. With no added sugar, salt, spices or flavourings, I may as well be eating snot.
DAY SEVEN:
There’s a reason babies cry when they’re being fed, and why they often bring it back up again: they obviously can’t bear to eat one more pot of tasteless slop – and I don’t blame them, although i’ve swallowed worse things in my life.
Each pot has only about 50 calories, so I’ve slashed my daily intake to under 400 calories. But I’m fucking hungry, fucking bad-tempered and constipated through lack of fibre.
I’ve done my time with baby food, and I’m relieved the week is over. I’m surprised I’ve lost only 2lb this week, but it may be because I have replaced only two of the three meals with baby food.
• NEXT WEEK – Weight Loss with the Internal Organ Removal Diet and the Heroin Cocaine Diet
