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Unidentified Headline 89

A weekly column reproduced from the Bristol Evening Post


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Why not provide all the pensioners with those quick-change belts that bus conductors used to wear? The ones where all the coins are stacked up in little spring-loaded dispensers? They could even get Thora Hird or Frank Windsor to advertise them in the back pages of colour supplements.

The working time lost in this country per year due to wrinklies trying to pay for a £1.99 Lidl turkey and tofu dinner with the exact change must cost the business sector millions of pounds a year. God only help us when Mr Blah brings in the Euro.


It has been brought to my attention that Manchester United’s goalkeeper, one Fabien Bartez, has been making rather a lot of errors of late. This is perplexing the club’s coaches, as the man who was recently a World Cup winner with France is now performing more like a Rovers’ reject.

I may be able to explain. Examine old Fabien carefully. Remind you of anyone? Yep, straight after the match he’s been rushing through Manchester to moonlight as a Coronation Street actor. Mucky mechanic Dennis Stringer, to be precise. He who’s been tuning Janice Battersby’s points.

Let’s face it, with the daunting task of standing behind one of the dodgiest defences in the Premiership by day, and then filming love scenes with the Creature from the Black Lagoon by night, you’d find both jobs rather demanding? The poor bloke’s not sure whether he’s supposed to get into the box or keep the ball out of it.


The editor of this impressive organ telephones in a state of some agitation.”Bazza,” he cries. “Where does baby oil come from?”

Be warned, children. That’s what a large Buckfast and Vimto for breakfast every day does to your brain cells.

BARRY BEELZEBUB
The views of Mr Beelzebub are purely personal and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Editor or staff of this newspaper, of anyone not already sick to death already of Harry Bloody Potter, of that self-pitying creep Michael Barrymore, or of any poor sap who’s being bullied into putting the Christmas Tree up this weekend. Err … yes, I am, seeing as you ask.

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