10 idle threats

1. I shall put a cat poo in my phone, and, in time, it will emerge in your ear.
2. I will start a low level leafleting campaign, informing your neighbours and local wildlife that you have a tiny tinkle, and that your botty is infected with icky poos.
3. I'll have you gently aroused with tinned salmon until you admit that you fancy your grandmother's catgut tennis racket.
4. I will put your keys into a different pocket, confusing you for several seconds - perhaps leading to a nagging doubt that will last for up to a minute.
5. I shall insist on calling you "Claudia" every time we meet on a Thursday.
6. I will write your mobile telephone number on the wall in the chaps' lavvy in the pub under the motto "Call this number for raging hot bot-bot".
7. I'll telephone your mother and inform her that you are pregnant by another man, and that you are yet to resolve the embarrassing situation involving a pound note. The shame will only be partially bearable.
8. I will steal one of your socks. But you won't know which one. Yeah.
9.I'll sneeze, not wipe the snot off my hands and then pat you maliciously on the back. Maybe twice.
10. I will photoshop a baby blue beret onto your favourite picture.

You have been warned.

Ten alternate uses for Belgium

Belgium symbolizes for many people (and certain breeds of otter) the ultimate waste of geographical space. Sure, it is funny, and sometimes even endearing, but ultimately Belgium serves no real function. Given this, it is understandable that most people (and the Dutch) would like to see the country diminish to the point of non-existence, both in terms of landmass and culture, despite not having any culture and very little landmass. We here at the Gasmpire feel this perception (and the strong desire on part of the Dutch to rid the world of the Belgique) is a bit unfair. Not to the Belgians, as they are stupidly called, but to the rest of Europe as a whole. Here we have suggested ten alternate uses for the territory and absurd cultural identity currently known as Belgium. We hope they will be taken to heart by politicians and the Dutch alike, to ensure there will be a Belgium for the future, and perhaps most importantly, that it be wholly distinct from the Belgium at present.

1. Give it to the Dutch. As a nation they're only marginally less superfluous than the Belgians, but at least they can play football.
2. Excavate the entire country and the use the soil to create a massive mountain somewhere. It could be called 'Flemish Peak' and could serve as a reminder of the people who sacrificed their country for a giant mound somewhere. School kids would be made to remember (under duress, if at all plausible / legal), the noble act espoused by the once frankly ludicrous and highly unnecessary people of Belgium and their selfless act aimed at expunging the world of their kind whilst creating a huge peak somewhere.
3. Rebrand Belgium in a Europe-wide competition among the continent's unemployed. The winner will be allowed to decide the fate of the Belgians (as long as it involves gentle annihilation and historical revisionism) and will be asked to place a plaque with the branding of the new look Belgium where the country once stood. Not really much of an alternate use as such, but food for thought nevertheless. (Is it really? Who edits this shit? - Ed.)
4. Turn Belgium into the world's only (and premier) Stella Artois themed pleasure park. People would trek to Stella Park in their droves to engage in such Stella related, time-honoured activities as wife-beating, beer belly cultivating, petty but violent crime and public defecation. One-way chartered flights and buses would leave Rotherham every ten minutes, destined for this great new family destination.
5. Ahh shit... we can't think of any more alternate uses for Belgium. Sorry.

10 future British tabloid Obama-based headlines

Apparently there's been some kind of erection in America. Someone could have at least said something...

So, as tabloid headline writers moisten themselves at the prospect of a new world of nauseating puns - here are are few little headlines to get them started.

1. George W. "Yo Blair" Bush meets Obama to congratulate him on spanking the ass off someone's grandpa...

Yo 'Bama!

2. But Obama doesn't show as teasing losers is mean...

No-Bama

3. This causes a kerfuffle...

O-Drama

4. But a good deed performed in a former life restores public opinion...

O Karma

5. So Obama takes a public relations trip to Peru...

Barack O Llama

6. But gets in a pickle with a native livestock herdsman

Obama in Llama Farmer Drama

7. Fortunately the herdsman sticks up for the stricken president...

Obama's no Llama Harmer

8. Who rewards the herdsman with a trip to a Turkish snack bar...

Shawarma Obama

9. The next election rolls round - Schwarzenegger takes on Obama...

"I'll be Barack"

10. Who goes clinically insane and gets shipped off to a funny farm....

O-Barmy

10.5 Before joining an 80s girl band tribute act...

O-Bananarama.

10 lessons from the lav, as last night's curry dissolves both arse and plumbing

1. Don't take dinner recommendations from a grinning midget with red teeth.
2. In these circumstances it is advisable to ring ahead and warn the North Sea. Norwegians take a dim view of losing ships to radioactive faecal matter.
3. Rectal prolapse does not just happen to cats.
4. Eat more fibre, buy sturdier pants.
5. Dodgy curry + 1 pound of green grapes = what the Germans charmingly refer to as "durchfall".
6. Great inventions are dreamt up on the lav, such as the pebble-dash.
7. James Bond does not have this problem. Nor does Action Man. That said, Action Man has no bum-hole and his pants don't come off, so arguably his problems are greater.
8. Now matter how vast and horrible your toilet experience may be, it is unlikely to cause you to implode.
9. Humming the theme tune to Will O the Wisp is a pleasant way to mask chronic flatulence.
10. Always always always check for bog roll before taking a seat. Something which I, unfortunately, have failed to do on this occasion. Oh dear.

10 things I'd rather do than shop for office insurance

1. Punch myself in the face over and over again whilst chewing a lightbulb.
2. Spend a weekend being slowly digested by a portly Belgian man.
3. Spend the next twelve years living rough, observing the mating habits of  diseased elm trees.
4. Work for the Guardian.
5. Examine the insides  of my own eyes with a fish hook and a blow-torch.
6. Grow breasts and then have them sawn off and used to beat me to death.
7. Have a conversation with Anne Robinson, Jeremy Clarkson and Anthony Worrall-Thompson.
8. Staple my own knackers to a plane, before jumping out of said plane at 12,000 feet with no parachute, listening to a walkman playing bag-pipe "music".
9. Support my ageing bedframe on a base of my own faeces. Involves waiting for them to dry first, of course, otherwise your bed will slide all over the place and this might keep you awake.
10. Watch a full Hollyoaks omnibus edition, and then Pearl Harbour, "starring" Ben Affleck.

10 quail brand names

1. Quail or Fail – topical gameshow.
2. Quailuude – a new take on the classic depressant. "You'll be light as a feather".
3. Famous Quail - a little known and frankly undrinkable brand of whisky.
4. Scotch Quail Eggs - for the connoisseur with no tastebuds and no chance of making it to 30 without suffering a coronary.
5. Quailsits - Foam packaging that some bastards try to pass off as crisps. Don't eat them, they turn your cock orange.
6. Quailkea - A furniture shop where all the loo brushes are named after ugly villages in Denmark.
7. Quaility Street confectionary. For those moments when you just gotta have a crispy beak, or a caramelized quail's liver.
8. The Daily Quail - a dire newspaper for racists and idiots that I wouldn't even stoop so low as to wipe my arse on. We don't want Captain Botty getting stupidized by osmosis.
9. Quailure is not an option. Low-budget karate-flick about a young boy's journey into manhood following an ill-advised move to join the foreign legion, starring Ben Affleck.
10. Quailin' - bog roll your finger won't go through, and with which you stand at least an outside chance of not unnecessarily abrading an arse-cheek off.

10 reasons why Carlsson’s boss is a complete and utter twat

1. He’s a complete and utter twat

2. He only awards contracts to companies he claims he wish he had bought shares in. The more times he says “I wish I had bought shares in this company” before offering that company contracts, the more obvious it becomes that he HAS bought shares in that company, and subsequently offered them contracts. I’m sure this is illegal

3. Every time he addresses his ‘minions’, he seems to get stuck in a timewarp that somehow entitles him to incessantly spout out vacuous 80s motivational drivel that invariable turns out be to untrue, misleading and highly narcissistic

4. He has a nervous tick that, although possibly not his fault, fails to endear him to yours truly. Never trust a man whose face contracts every five seconds whilst he is lying to an audience of 200.

5. He constantly informs us of how successful we are as a company. I have to sit and listen to this shit knowing that several projects have and are failing on a spectacular scale as we speak, resulting in job losses and shit-bottom morale

6. He thinks he is funny and “down” with his staff. He thinks wrong.

7. His novel approach to management (taken from the pages of any early 1980s how to book) means that no one makes decisions or take responsibility for their actions. This has traditionally always been conducive to a great running operation.

8. He is incapable of answering any question in less than 600 words, even if that question is “what is your name?” Verbosity is one thing, inane verbosity from a cunt who thinks he is God’s gift to business is entirely another

9. He is incapable of addressing any member of staff without somehow referring to his previous successes with other companies. As if we care! He clearly lost his way since then, as all he can truly lay claim to now is failure after failure

10. He is a complete and utter twat