This Week… No Deal And Somerset Rules!


"A simple box that slows ageing, reduces pain, lifts depression and stress and tackles cancer . Yep tackles cancer!" – N. Edmonds

"I just imagine all the other runners are big spiders, and then I get super scared." – U. Bolt

"I've got blood and everything and I'm tryin' to hold him together! I'm puttin'… the guy's fuckin' insides keep coming out! And nobody would help! Nobody would help! He's saying, sayin' 'I wanna go home! I wanna go home!' He keeps calling my name! 'I wanna go home, Johnny! I wanna drive my Chevy!' I said 'With what? I can't find your fuckin' legs! I can't find your legs!'" – G. Osborne


Noel Edmonds, Mr. Tiny Beard himself has found that no one want's him anymore and now found that Channel 4 have told him "NO DEAL". That's actually cheered me right up, not because I hate the diminutive, fake smiling Tory leaning sack of nylon (I used to ask the hairdresser on our street to cut my hair like his in the Seventies), but because I will no longer be baffled by some over-pompous programme that I somehow couldn't grasp (just like Pointless, but at least that tall guy is funny and socialist). He is embarking on a UK farewell tour, where he intends to bring along the charred and molten plastic hubris of Mr. Blobby, just like the golden days of tellybox. 



Obviously the biggest piece of news was our office sports day, where various lazy webheads, smoking journo-wannabes and some really nice other people who do actual work learned the art of tai-chi, and lacerated our arms with third-degree rope burns during an aggressive tug-of-war competition.We learned how fast a DJ can run, battled it out with drunken rounders (Somerset Rules, obviously) and ended up with DJ Office Manager getting towed in a dinghy up Regents Canal by a Dutch Barge. All in time for tea, and acid house fun at Last Days Of Shoreditch.

In photo news…

Teenagers all across the country woke up to their A-level results


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