Cooking up controversy

The BBC ought to hang its head in shame today after refusing to air big Alan Shearer’s appearance on the popular yet tedious cookery show Saturday Kitchen. BBC Director General George Entwistle “justified” his decision by moaning that the explicit sexual content on the Geordie number 9’s performance would not have been suitable pre-watershed let alone on a Saturday morning family show. This comes only days after he claim to want to put originality at the heart of BBC policy. What could be more original than having Alan Shearer fuck some hot piece of ass on a cookery show? Let’s call it what it is, nonsense. When push comes to shove the BBC just don’t want to stick their necks out and openly criticise the lack of military funding in this so-called country for fear of having their funding cut as a consequence. Put simply: they have no balls. Luckily there is a man who does have the balls, Alan Shearer. Not only did Alan pummel the heck out of this nubile brunette as part of his campaign to raise awareness of the plight of our Armed Forces by banging 206 record-breaking slags, he also trumped Paul Rankin’s three-egg omelette challenge record of 15.12 seconds by cooking the perfect omelette in a staggering 9 seconds. What a guy! Shame the BBC pulled the plug on the broadcast.

101 remain on the To Do list.

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Although it is not often, if at all, discussed among his devoted scholars and biographers, H.P. Lovecraft’s description of the townsfolk of Dunwich in his classic short ‘The Dunwich Horror’ leave one with little doubt that the writer must have visited Sunderland at some point:

“Two centuries ago, when talk of witch-blood, Satan-worship and strange forest presences were not laughed at, it was the custom to give reasons for avoiding the locality. In our sensible age [. . .] people shun it without knowing exactly why. Perhaps one reason – though it cannot apply to uninformed strangers – is that the natives are now repellently decadent, having gone far along the path of retrogression [. . .] They have come to form a race by themselves, with the well-defined mental and physical stigmata of degeneracy and inbreeding. The average of their intelligence is woefully low, whilst their annals reek of overt viciousness and of half-ridden murders, incests and deeds of almost unnameable violence and perversity.” (2007: 180)

Sound like Mackems to me!

Bibliography

Lovecraft, H.P. (2007) ‘The Dunwich Horror,’ The Whisperer in Darkness Ware, Herts.:Wordsworth Editions Ltd. pp178-216

Total Recall

Never mind that Colin Farrell twat, Big Alan Shearer knows how to recreate an early 90s action classic better than no man. The towering Geordie striker found himself in Seascale, Cumbria today and, good heavens, he certainly had his hands full with local bint and former Sellafield technician Kimberley “50% extra” Hyde. That’s one closer to his target of banging 206 record-breaking slags to raise awareness of the underfunding of our Armed Forces. Good lad.

103 – 1 = 102 to go!

206th Post Exclusive: I spy with my little eye something beginning with S … Alan Shearer!

Massive six-foot man-mountain Alan Shearer woke up yesterday to the news that his campaign of banging 206 record-breaking slags to raise awareness of insufficient military funding was potentially in tatters.  While munching upon his regular breakfast of chicken and beans an emergency carrier pigeon arrived from the office of Newcastle Elders Wor Kev and Peter informing him that six of the lucky lasses selected to take part in his campaign had been kidnapped by Mackem terrorists under the command of vicious Wearside tyrant and benefit fraudster Chris Waddle. Outraged, the Geordie striker slammed his fist to the table and after formulating a rescue operation in a matter of seconds sent a carrier pigeon away to the Newcastle Elders informing them of the plan . . .

Step One – Locate Some of Women

“Rumours have it,” Shearer wrote, “that Waddle recently installed a purpose-built bachelor pad on the third floor of Hylton Castle. This seems like the most likely place he have holed up some of the girls but as Waddle is a slippery customer I very much doubt he’d make it that easy for us to put them all in the same place. But we’ll start there. Now, everyone knows that it’s perfectly within my powers to bound up the walls of the Castle after all I made a career out of getting one over the wall of Premiership defenders, however I’ll need Wor Peter to distract Waddle’s Mackem guards by any means necessary . . . ”

“That’s fine,” thought Wor Peter, “I can cast scorn on their stinking Mackem breath by throwing bags on minty fresh Jesmona Black Bullets at them. No doubt they’ll give chase and that should bide you some time.”

Shearer’s note continued: “With Wor Peter taking care of the guards, I’ll break inside the building, just like the way I broke into many a Premiership penalty box, and score a spectacular brace . . . ”

110 – 2 = 108

“After the formalities are through and I’ve ticked the two off my campaign tally, I’ll turn my attention to the whereabouts of the other slags . . . ”

Step Two – Holding the Fort

“Obviously as Wor Peter is otherwise engaged, Wor Kev will have to oversee the smooth running of Tyneside on his own, making sure that everything remains Black ‘n’ White ‘n’ True.”
Step Three – Interrogation

“Now it’s unlikely that the slags in the bachelor pad at Hylton Castle will know the whereabouts of the others, however no doubt there will be low level female employees working for Waddle, such as maids, that may well do. Before scaling back down the wall of the Castle I’ll take a hostage of my own and working quickly with well-proven techniques get some answers . . . ”

108 – 1 = 107

The Final Stage

Stages one to three were a complete success. It was discovered that the remaining slags were being held in Waddle’s headquarters above Oris Ltd sausage factory, Sunderland and now it was a race against time to rescue the girls and get his campaign back on track. Today, in an exclusive interview, the man who redefined the number 9 told NOTA reporters of how whilst fighting his way into Waddle’s sausagy compound it occurred to him that if the events that were transpiring were to be condensed into neatly packaged report it would be a canny 206th post for the NOTA News blog: “I thought to meself that given this could be the 206th post for your blog I should be dressed for the occasion. I took some dinner clothes from the bedroom and while get dressed fought my way through to the hostages.”

After dodging the attacks of one guard after another the world’s tallest six foot man found himself one on one with the last line of defense standing between him and the slags. “Divvn’t ye even think aboot it . . . Actually gan aheed make me day!” Shearer shouted . . .

107 – 1 = 106

The Geordie legend rounded up the remaining slags headed to the helipad where he had planned to steal Waddle’s Sausage-copter and fly the slags to safety. However two of the lasses, frightened that they might miss their opportunity to take part in Shearer’s campaign if the Sausage-copter were shot down whilst escaping, had other plans.

106 – 2 = 104

Despite being a performance of sexual prowess perhaps unwitnessed in the history of the Earth, in the process of banging the sheer heck out of these two blonde bints one of the other slags was snatched by Waddle’s Mackem minions. Wasting no time in postcoital clean up, the big Geordie legend gave the slags a quick yet thorough helicopter pilot lesson so they could fly to safety on their own.

The lasses arrived back to the office of Newcastle Elders Wor Kev and Peter in perfect nick yet as the hours when by there was no news from Shearer. What had happened to him? Had he managed to rescue the other girl? Had he been caught? The news quickly spread through Tyneside. The area became gripped by fear and as the day drifted ever more into night all hope seemed to be vanishing with it.

Then at 6:37 am this morning . . .

104 – 1 = 103 to go

SHEARER!

Meanwhile, having sworn revenge what evil is Mackem tyrant Chris Waddle summoning from the depths of Hell . . .

To be continued . . .