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From the DM,

TWIGGY is a 300 year-old Bulgarian woman, Oil of Olay admitted last night.
The cosmetics giant was forced to reveal the true identity of Britain's favourite model after hundreds of readers spotted some slight airbrushing around her eyes in a magazine advert.

But they insisted that Twiggy, whose real name is Svetlana Betsov, is a modern miracle and should not be mocked or poked at like some kind of freak.

According to the company Twiggy was born near the small town of Chavdar in 1708, the third child of farmer Yuri Betsov and his wife Albert.

As a teenager she gained employment as a housemaid with the Koralevs, one of the richest families in the Austro-Hungarian empire, eventually moving with them to Paris in 1727.

After the Koralevs were crushed by a falling piano in 1732, she was taken in by the controversial chemist Georges Olay who used her in a series of dangerous experiments involving charcoal, beetroot oil and human lard.

By 1746 Olay realised that his 38 year-old employee did not look a day over 21 and eventually introduced her to Parisian society as Mademoiselle Juliette Twigé.

When Olay died in 1762 he entrusted his son Pierre with the care and maintenance of the 53 year-old woman, leaving him detailed instructions about how to change her identity every 25 years.

Over the generations Twiggy has been reinvented as a French aristocrat, a German industrialist and a Highland warrior before taking the name Lesley Hornby in 1949 and dazzling swinging London with her waifish charm and detailed knowledge of Bulgarian dairy farming.

A company spokesman said: "This whole thing has unravelled remarkably quickly.

"Twiggy has seen things you would not believe. We all have a lot to learn from her."

PRIMARK TO CHARGE CUSTOMERS JUST TO CHUCK STUFF ON THE FLOOR
CHEAP clothes giant Primark is to stop selling clothes and instead simply charge the public to come and mess up its shops.
As rocketing cotton prices threaten to end the phenomenon of skirts costing less than a handful of Blackjacks, the retail chain will refocus its business model around what it describes as the 'therapeutic demolition' of its rails.

A spokesman said: "The Primark experience has always been primarily about chucking things on the floor, or throwing them on top of other things in a crumpled heap.

"For a reasonable hourly rate customers, 99.73% female, will be able to run around the shop going fucking mental, hurling budget tops around in a dervish-like fashion.

"For a small surcharge they can tear items apart with their teeth, shoot them with rifles or even set fire to certain designated areas of the shop.

"It's the future of retail, happening right now."

Primark customer Emma Bradford said: "To me it's the closest thing to being back in my teenage bedroom. Sure I like the cheap stuff but really it's more about creating a chaotic dump safe in the knowledge that no-one cares enough to fuck with me.

"Possibly it's an anti-authority thing, or a holdover from some sort of prehistoric ritual. It's certainly the nearest I get to being a maverick crazy bitch since I became a housewife."

She added: "Either way, a big Primark at 5.30pm on a Saturday is the closest you'll get to a physical manifestation of the mind of a pre-menstrual woman."

A Queensland farmer drove to a neighbours' farmhouse in his Holden ute, and knocked at the door.

A boy, about 9, opened the door.

"Is your Dad home?" said the farmer.

"No mate, he isn't; he went to town."

"Well, is your Mother here?"

"No, she went to town with Dad."

"How about your brother, Howard? Is he here?"

"No mate, he went with Mum and Dad."

The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other, and mumbling to himself.

"Is there anything I can do for you? I know where all the tools are, if you want to borrow one, or I can give Dad a message."

"Well," said the farmer uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to your Dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter Susie pregnant".

The boy thought for a moment. "You would definitely have to talk to Dad about that. I know he charges $500 for the bull and $50 for the pig, but I don't know how much he charges for Howard."

ha

Got ya!

Inner Peace

I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me today, and we all could probably use more calm in our lives!

Some doctor on the TV this morning said that the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.

So I looked around my house to see things I'd started and hadn't finished and, before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of shhhardonay, a bodle of Baileys, a  butle of vocka, a pockage of Pringlies, the res of the Chesescke a n a box a
chocolets. Yu haf no idr ow frigin gud I fel. Peas sen dis orn to anyy yu fee ar in ned ov inr pece.

From the D.M.

ITV is to refresh its Saturday night schedules with the motiveless abuse show You've Been A Shit.
Members of the public will be invited to send in clips of them tying dogs to motorway central reservations and psychologically bullying the mentally fragile.

Abandoning the traditional message assuring viewers that nobody was hurt, a large part of YBAS will be devoted to detailing the lasting physical and mental damage to all those involved.

Producer, Bill McKay, said: "Anyone who's been outdoors for more than 12 seconds will know that Britain is crammed to bursting with slate-eyed, donkey-punching sadists who love nothing more than watching shaky footage of other sadists pissing on the dying embers of mankind's decency.

"With funny graphics and a swanee whistle."

Carlisle recidivist and banned pet-owner Wayne Hayes said he could not wait for the new show.

"I've got some mint footage of our little Glee setting fire to her classmate's hair on an iPhone I nicked from our social worker. How much do I get for that?"

McKay added: "Thirty years ago, this sort of thing would inevitably have inspired the likes of Huw Wheldon to commission a 12-part documentary exploring the various political, economic and sociological factors.

"But instead we've got a third-rate stand-up laughing over footage of a Bangladeshi off-license owner being chased by a Doberman."

Found a great way to get a huge refund from the Inland Revenue. Tell them you live by the seaside.

A young Navy Officer was in a bad car accident, but due to the heroics of the hospital staff the only permanent injury was the loss of one ear.
Since he wasn't physically impaired he remained in the military and eventually became an Admiral. During his career he was always sensitive about his appearance.

One day the Admiral was interviewing three Master Chiefs for the Command Master Chief position.

The first Master Chief was a Surface Navy type and it was a great interview. At the end of the interview the Admiral asked him, "Do you
Notice anything different about me?"

The Master Chief answered, "Why yes. I couldn't help but notice you are missing your starboard ear, so I need to know whether this impacts your
Hearing on that side." The Admiral got very angry at this lack of tact
And threw him out of his office.

The next candidate, an Aviation Master Chief, when asked this same question, answered, "Well yes, you seem to be short one ear." The Admiral threw him out also.

The third interview was with a Submarine Service Master Chief. He was articulate, extremely sharp, and seemed to know more than the other two
Master Chiefs put together. The Admiral wanted this guy, but went ahead with the same question, "Do you notice anything different about me?"

To his surprise the Submarine Service Master Chief said, "Yes. You wear contact lenses."

The Admiral was impressed and thought to himself, what an incredibly tactful Master Chief. "And how do you know that?" the Admiral asked.

The Submarine Service Master Chief replied, "Well it's pretty hard to wear glasses with only one fucking ear."

At the end of the tax year, the Inland Revenue office sent an inspector to audit the books of a local hospital.

While the agent was checking the books he turned to the Accountant of the Hospital and said, "I notice you buy a lot of bandages. What do you do with the end of the roll when there's too little left to be of any use?"

"Good question," noted the Accountant. "We save them up and send them back to the bandage company and every now and then they send us a free box of bandages."

"Oh," replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer.

But on he went, in his obnoxious way. "What about all these plaster purchases? What do you do with what's left over after setting a cast on a patient?"

"Ah, yes," replied the Hospital Accountant, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. "We save it and send it back to the manufacturer, and every now and then they send us a free package of plaster."

"I see," replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Accountant.

"Well," he went on, "What do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?"

"Here, too, we do not waste," answered the Accountant. "What we do is save all the little foreskins and send them to the Inland Revenue Office, and about once a year they send us a complete prick!"