JEFFREY ARCHER - A TRIBUTE.
Tributes have been trickling in for ex conservative M.P, writer and erstwhile actor Jeffrey Archer who is tragically still alive at the age of 64. He was discovered in the early hours of the morning by his personal assistant Heather (27) and was pronounced still alive upon his arrival at the kitchen. Although world renowned for his sharp political mind and business acumen Lord Archer likes to keep his acts of philanthropy out of the public arena. He once, for example, gave a prostitute a brown envelope full of money in the hope that it would enable her to pursue a life away from the streets. He also gave of his time to judge short story competitions and would routinely use the best ideas in his own books, thus shielding any novice authors from the glaring gaze of the media spotlight and the inevitable riches accompanying a bestseller. The highlight of his existence thus far came in 1998 when he became a lord, partly due to his services to lying. John Major said - "This is indeed a sad day. I can only hope that people take some solace in the fact that this mournful situation will one day change". Peter Andrex added, "Although I have never met Lord Archer I feel drawn to his aura. That fact that he is still alive at least means he can buy my new single which is released on the 15th May and is available at all minor record shops". Wigan Athletic's rampaging right wing-back Pascal Chimbonda was too distressed to talk last night but in a statement released by his publicist said, "Armadillos can be housebroken. In that respect they share something in common with dogs and parrots".
Lord Archer has a wife and two sons who have asked the media to respect their privacy in what must be a trying time for all concerned. They also wanted it known that the average shoe size for a male human is 9.
Please feel free to sign the book of condolence.

HOLLYWOOD HERE I COME.
I've spent the majority of the weekend feverously working on my screenplay. I probably shouldn't go into too many details as I know bloggers have the reputation of being thieving scum but, on this occasion, I'm prepared to trust you. Please be warned that if anyone does steal any of the ideas I will be forced to take legal action.
The premis centres around an asexual orthodontist called Martin Banana who must travel through time in search of a cure for his sister's halitosis. His efforts are constantly stymied by his arch nemesis and rival orthodontist Dr Lucian Ankle. They studied together and were great friends until they had a fierce argument about the relative values of Aran knitwear and have been sworn enemies ever since. Martin Banana is a maverick who doesn't play by the rules. For example, in one scene he refuses to examine the teeth of an old age pensioner until she can prove her claim that she is eligable for free treatment under the NHS. The finale will be a high speed milk float chase through the streets of Cockfosters with Martin Banana (who has had his legs amputated in an earlier scene) having to drive the milk float, fire bullets at Dr Ankle and keep the halitosis serum from dropping below room temperature.
I've just finished the first draft and I'm confident that, after a bit of polishing, I could have a potential Oscar winner on my hands. It would certainly be a big disappointment if it wasn't nominated.
P.S - I've yet to come up with an appropriate title so all suggestions are welcome. I did consider 'The Time-travelling Adventures of Martin Banana and his battle with arch nemisis Dr Lucian Ankle (an orthodontist)' but I'm not convinced it's quite snappy enough for the american market. Any thoughts?

THE NEWS - AS IT BREAKS.
Princess Diana - Still dead!
I've managed to get hold of some leaked governement documents suggesting that Princess Diana may still be dead. They allege that she died following a car crash in a Paris subway in 1997 when her driver was pissed up and that she hasn't been seen since.
After some further digging I was shoked to discover there may be some validity to these allegations. One website I visited even suggested that she may well have at one time been married to royalty and have given birth to two sons who are in direct line to the throne of Great Britain!
I subsequently journeyed straight to Buckingham palace to try and get some royal reaction. The Queen herself was unavailable for comment due to a hangover. I did. however, manage to catch a word with an armed policeman who was patrolling the gates. He said, and I quote:
"Of course she's still f***ing dead you mental c***. She died years ago." When I tried to push him further he replied: "Listen to me you little twat, you are seriously pushing my f***ing patience. Now why don't you put some f***ing trousers on and f*** off before I have you arrested". By this time he had me in a headlock and was continually punching me in the face so I thought it best to abort the interview there but rest assured dear readers that I will not be deterred from my quest to uncover the truth where-ever it may lie.
NEXT WEEK - Pressure grows on pope to admit catholicism.
and
Watch exclusive footage of bear shitting in woods.

MARTIN KEMP IN FAKE HEAD SHOCK!
According to my reliable sources there is very little truth in the internet based rumour that ex Spandau Ballet and EastEnders star Martin Kemp has had his head surgically removed and replaced by a left rear hubcap from a Ford Mondeo with a little smiley face drawn on it. I can confirm however, that he has been in hospital for some minor cosmetic surgery. He has had a bed-side lamp attached to his shoulder to enable him to learn his scripts in bed without disturbing his wife.

IT'S OFFICIAL - CRACK IS GOOD FOR YOU.
I attended a party in town on saturday night where one young gentleman was generous enough to introduce me to the delights of crack cocaine. Its terribly more-ish. It was the first time I tried it a now I simply can't get enough of the stuff. For all those unfamiliar with its delights; it fills you with a tremendous sense of euphoria followed by an overpowering feeling of general inadequacy and depression. But not to worry, once the latter emotion hits you you're just about ready for another dose and your mood lifts almost instantaneously. The young gentleman has gone out of his way since to ensure I don't run out. (I find I need a hit at least every 15 minutes or I getting the most dreadful withdrawal syptoms) and although it is proving rather expensive (so far I have sold my house, car and children and have started stealing my grandmother's pension money) it is definitely money well spent. As the saying goes 'Once you've tried crack you don't go back'. The young gentleman has also warned me that if don't pay him every penny owed he will have me shot but I think that's just his wacky sense of humour coming into play. Apparently crack is readily available on every street corner! I feel sooo stupid. If only I'd known sooner. But now that I have experience the wonders of this marvellous creation I feel it would be selfish of me to keep it to myself so, if you'd like some more information on the benefits of crack cocaine or you'd like to enrol your children on one of my two-day introductory courses, please visit:

www.crackcocaineforkids.com

COLIN TV.
Another day, another failed business venture. I'm starting to believe my luck is never gonna change and I'm doomed to see out my days as a pointless and slightly smelly non-entity.
I've been struggling for months to get my own T.V channel off the ground but, alas, my plans now lie in ruins. Called COLIN TV, it was to be the only satellite channel in the U.K devoted exclusively at gentlemen called Colin aged between 35 and 40 living in the Hertfordshire area. In my day-to-day live I've met a number of Colin's who all feel they are not properly represented in the media as a whole and television in particular. Its a shocking state of affairs when any minority in society is not allowed a voice and COLIN TV was to be my small contribution towards redressing this inbalance and introducing a debate into the rights of Colins everywhere. Unfortunately the powers that be have decided in their wisdom that, according to their extensive market research, there is not a large enough potential audience to justify the huge initial financial outlay that COLIN TV would require.
Once again the television viewing public are denied the infotainment they deserves due to the absurdity of the ratings war.

TWENTY-SEVEN AND A HALF PENCE. (STERLING)
Up until yesterday I had the highest respect for American gansta rapper 50Pence. I admired his unflinching support for feminist issues and loved the way he was able to wear a handkerchief and sideways pointing baseball cap on his head at the same time without looking like a total prick. When he sang "If you find me in da club, come give me a hug" I never for one moment doubted that he meant it but last night I learnt the terrible truth. I saw him propping up the bar at my local nightclub Twinkles so I made a bee-line for him, gave him a bear-hug, kissed him on the lips and playfully tickled his bollocks. Imagine my surprise and shock when he didn't return my affection but instead got four of his friends to drag me into the back alley and beat me to within an inch of my life. Mr Pence, you are a liar and when I regain the use of my fingers I will be writing you a very stern letter.


Dear Mr McGuinness,
I can only apogolize for the violent and cowardly actions of my associates last night. With the benefit of hindsight I can appreciate it was an extreme over-reaction and for that I am truly sorry. However, please rest assured that the motivation was purely honourable. I was deep in conversation with two of my bitches about the relative values of smoking some motherfucking fool when you jumped on me. My first reaction was that I'd been the latest victim of a drive-by hugging. I subsequently reached for my semi-automatic handgun but, upon realising I'd left it it on my bedside table next to the latest edition of The New Statesman, I was left with no alternative but to accept the generous offer of four of my niggaz to drag you out the back and savagely murder you. Not many men would survive being stabbed 27 times, being hit repeatedly with baseball bats, planks of wood and bricks, being run over 8 times and being thrown off Tower Bridge in a weighted-down bin-bag. You are obviously a very courageous and lucky young man and for that I applaud you. It goes without saying that I will contribute to any medical bills this psychotic assault has incurred (I understand you've lost the feeling in 90 per cent of your body and your head has swollen to the size of a medicine ball - poor you xxx)
In the meantime I would be honoured if you would accept my gift of making your house wheelchair accessible and I enclose a signed copy of my C.D The Massacre.
Happy listening and get well soon.
Peace and love,
50Cent.


Dear Mr Pence,
I accept your heartfelt apology and thank you for your concern. The doctors have assured me that I'll only need to wear the full body cast for a maximum of six months and I'll be allowed to eat solid food within the next fortnight so things are definitely looking up.
I would like to take this opportunity to urge you in the future to monitor your lyrical content as gullible fans like myself tend to misunderstand the messages in hip-hop. I have an aquaintence who is still in maximum security prison after taking N.W.A's suggestion to 'Fuck tha Police' a little too literally. If there had been a warning on the record sleeve that buggering enforcers of the law is illegal then maybe he would still have his liberty.
Yours affectionately,
Andrew McGuinness
P.S - I was touched by the inclusion of the C.D. I've played it five times already - so rich and varied - I love it xx

LICENSED TO...TRAVEL FOR FREE ON THE BUS AT NON-PEAK TIMES.
I'm greatly encouraged by the news that Wendy Craig has been cast as the new James Bond. Anyone who's familiar with her work on ITV's The Royal and the seminal 70's british sitcoms such as Butterflies can be in no doubt that the natural successor to Pierce Brosnan as finally been found. She is the perfect choice to introduce Bond to a new generation of film fan. She has that steely-eyed stoicism and languid sense of humour that's integral to Ian Fleming's greatest creation and I for one applaud the producer's brave decision. I must admit I haboured some initial concerns with regard to the fact that she's now in her mid-seventies and may struggle with the action scenes but I'm led to believe she's been in the gym beefing up since october last year so I'm sure she'll be in fine physical fettle when principle photography begins. I am literally salivating at the prospect of Ms Craig annoucing the immortal words "My name's Bond. James Bond".
P.S - There is no truth in the internet rumour that Geoffrey Palmer has been cast as Bond's arch nemesis Dr Possibly.

BROKEN.
I read a moving interview with ex Busted star Matt Willis where he went into harrowing detail about the living hell he has endured since the band's tragic demise last year. To try and gage public opinion I conducted a straw poll with London's homeless who were all equally shocked and upset by Matt's sad plight. One of them, Dave, said: "I'm equally shocked and upset by Matt's sad plight". I have subsequently gone to the liberty of creating a website in the hope of drumming up some much needed publicity for Matt's heartbreaking situation. To obtain more information and sign the online petition please visit:

www.whingeingselfobsessedgreedypamperedmillionairepopstars.com

P.S - Matt also mentioned his new single, which is probably called The depths of my love or something equally shit, and is released later this month with an album to follow.

SATAN IN THE SUPERMARKET.
The Sainsbury's fruit 'n' veg aisle is not a place you would readily expect to come into contact with the agents of pure evil but last night, half way through my bi-weekly shop, I came face to face with a trio of Bin Laden's Al Queada operatives. I was thumbing through the new copy of FHM and ruminating on whether to purchase some chicken dippers when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a vaguely Arabic looking chap with his hand suspiciously delving into the fresh-cut broccoli. It goes without saying that my first instinct was to perform a citizens arrest and I was about to bottle him with a Pinot Grigio when I noticed some Jaffa cakes poking out of his basket. Any fool knows that Jaffa cakes are one of the crucial components used in making crude, home-made explosive devices so I decided to hold fire and follow this monster to see if I could work out his modus operandi and at the same time protect the lives of tens of innocent shoppers. He picked out a particularly bulbous floret (a rudimentary method of signalling to any cohorts in the vacinity) and started striding menacingly towards the fresh fish counter. At this point the full horror of his ungodly plan started unfolding before my eyes. The signal with the broccoli had evidently had the desired effect as he teamed up with his two demonic partners in death. One was dressed as an old woman (complete with Zimmerframe). The other as a small girl and together they formed the personification of the axis of evil. Monster number one started discussing the relative values of haddock with monster number tw0 (In the Islamic dictionary haddock= jihad) I knew I had to act quickly or it would soon descend into another 7/11 situation. With total disregard for my own safety I jumped on the nearest terrorist (the little girl) and smashed her head repeatedly against a glass-fronted fridge containing Chinese ready meals (I know - the irony). This alerted the other two terrorists so I slid across the newly varnished floor and kicked the old woman's Zimmerframe into the air. (For all I knew it could have been booby-trapped) As she started falling I managed to take her out with a rabbit punch to the kidneys and an elbow to the jaw. The third terrorist prooved tougher opposition. I was half expecting him to pull an AK47 from his turban but he just stood there glued to the stop staring open-mouthed at me. The look of pure unadulterated evil in his eyes chilled me to the bone but I knew I couldn't be deflected from my God-sent mission to rid the streets of this parasite. As luck would have it there were some kitchen knifes to hand so I grabbed the small steak knife and ran screaming towards him. He didn't put up a fight and I soon had him pinned by his hands and feet against a display of margarines and yogurts (3for2 only until next week). Questioning could now begin. I am not trained in the latest CIA interrogation techiques but I knew I had to attempt to get as much information out of him as possible before the rest of his cell appeared. My lack of experience showed and I couldn't get him to deviate from his well-rehearsed alibi even when I started to break his fingers. He claimed he was a Sikh who had never visited Afghanistan, had very little interest in politics and was merely on a shopping trip with his infirm mother and six year old daughter. The callous murdering scumbag refused to admit any knowledge of training camps, sticky bombs, flight plans or any sleeper cell activity in the area. He had the audacity to claim he was a pacifist who made a living teaching children with learning difficulties. My blood was well passed boiling point when armed police arrived on the scene and I was taken to Paddington Green Police station for de-briefing. They put me in a straight jacket and recommended I stay in the cell overnight for security reasons. I have also been charged with three counts of attempted murder and they've set up a meeting with a psychiatrist. They assure me that this is completely standard in cases such as this and I expect my thank you letters from Lionel Bliar and Kate W Bush any day now. The one from The Daily Mail arrived with the first post this morning.