Extra! Extra! Read all about it: [CENSORED]

In a bid to make your morning newspaper more like a crossword and less full of that scary informative news stuff, MPs have reached a deal on press regulation. None of the three main parties left the agreement entirely satisfied but they all agreed that the compromise deal would stop "those pesky reporters telling the world about one's private sordid sex romps". A source added: "If I want to have extra-marital sex with my secretary/her sister/or her sister's plus one at that all night cocktail party, that’s entirely my prerogative, the last thing the public needs is some spotty journalist hacking my webcam and putting my picture in the paper".

The Orwellian move, to be put before an emergency debate in the Commons today would establish by royal charter a commission with the ability to levy Fines of up to one million pounds and force publications to publish prominent apologies if the regulator deems it appropriate. There is confusion between the parties as to whether the commission would be supported by statute however, with Labour claiming it to be and Tory MPs stating this is not the case.

One popular celestial paper (whom we cannot name due to having neither one million pounds nor the print space for an apology) has made it clear they are very concerned about this assault on the free press, though it isn’t quite clear if they're genuinely concerned about the 'Big Brother' implications or whether they're just upset because now they cant hack phones, they’ll never be able to hack Ed Milliband's phone to get his view on the whole situation.

Perhaps in an attempt to allay fears of a wagon rolling further and further toward state censorship, once established the charter will need a two thirds majority in parliament to change it, hopefully preventing its abuse. However who knows how far this will go, is it setting a precedent? What will the government deem [CENSORED]

Ahh great... Black Death Bones

Londoners are being advised there is no need to give the Farringdon area a wide berth following the discovery of thirteen skeletons, thought to be Black Death victims.

The skeletons were discovered 2.4m beneath the road by builders working on the Crossrail project. Sources suggest they were quick to capitalise on the opportunity for an extended tea break and immediately evacuated the shaft before reporting the discovery to their chief brew maker Alan Goostrey, a self taught amateur archaeologist.

Alan said he made the call to his friends in the scientific community who subsequently came and “had a poke around” before taking samples for analysis. He added that the Museum of London would be delighted with the find, following rumours that they are being forced to temporarily store skeletons in the staff canteen due to the huge skeleton influx in recent years from excavation projects.

Our scientist source who arrived in a Chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear defence (CBRN) suit, says that there is no danger of unleashing the Black Death upon London as you actually have to meet someone with the Black Death in order to catch it, and that he was simply en route to a reported sewage leak near Ikea.

Crazy kim jong un threatens ceasefire!

Kim Jong Un latest in the line of North Korean despots has decided to prove he is the craziest of them all.  Citing joint U.S - South Korean millitary posturing and proposed new sanctions accepted by China, one of North Korea's few allies, Pyongyang is threatening an end to the Korean ceasefire.

The Korean Central News Agency (KCNA) North Korea's news agency stated in a report that North Korea intends to end the ceasefire of Tuesday March 11th, presumably unless the sanctions are eased.  It is also reported that phone links to South Korea at the border villiage of Panmunjom will also be cut, making negotiations more difficult.

The ceasefire has brought relative peace to the Korean peninsular since 1953 effectively ending the Korean war.

Move over jaws man is the real terror of the seas.

Each year thousands of people paddle in the shallows at Blackpool beach, not daring to wade any deeper than the shallows for fear of becoming a tasty bite sized snack for that fearsome hunter of the seas, the shark. And yet it seems in reality the shark is in far more danger of those pasty faced, knobbly kneed holiday makers diving into the water and taking a bite out of him. On average just over four people are killed each year by jaws (rumours that "I bet I can pull his tail" is the most common choice of last words are wrong, it's actually "aarrgh!"), while over the past decade, the number of sharks killed by humans averages at around 100 million a year.

The increasing popularity of shark fin soup amongst Chinese communities is thought to be one of the main factors in this vast number of shark kills. A spokesman for the shark population said "my people are a peaceful race, eating mostly fish and only the occasional surfboarder, who might I add give us the most horrendous indigestion". A spokesman for the shark fishermen said only "Quiet tasty shark! Get in my soup now!"

So next time you’re standing in trepidation on the beach, go ahead and dive right in and, if you do see a shark, take a bite, it probably tastes like chicken...

“Dirt digging gravel monkeys think they’re too good for back-to-work schemes” says senior politician.

Geologists armed with their rock collections and hammers have taken to the streets in protest at comments made, suggesting they are less important than supermarket shelf stackers. This follows an angry rebuttal by the 10,000 strong Geological Society of London in response to the shelf-stacking jibe.

 

A spokesperson said: “Without geologists they wouldn’t even have the shelves to stack, that’s before we come to the food grown with minerals mined for fertilisers and transported with fuel we discovered. We certainly consider ourselves pretty important in the grand scheme of things.”

We don’t all spend our time examining rocks you know.

A geologist questioned about the issue said she didn’t spend three years in a top education establishment only to be told she had to stack shelves in a discount store for £70 a week while she waits for her high salary calling, forcing her to give up her voluntary job at a local museum where she tended the rock collection and shared her knowledge with the visitors.

Geologists United added: “We spend time in harsh, dangerous environments, from North Sea oil rigs to extensive mine networks, or prospecting in the untamed rainforest with all those biting insects and poisonous critters. That said, we value the box opening and product placing skills professed by shelf stackers in their high-pressure air-conditioned environment and would at least consider our professions equal.”

“You’re doing what!?” says God.

It has emerged that God’s attempts to strike down St Peter's Basilica’s in anger at Pope Benedict XVI’s intention to resign, were foiled by a strip of copper running down the building, commonly known as a lightening conductor.

 

God was unaware the pope allowed such devices to be created and has expressed his anger that he can no longer lightening-strike such buildings into spontaneous combustion.

Despite being handpicked by the College of Cardinals with help from the Holy (non-alcoholic) Spirit, God’s servant Pope Benedict XVI is said to have “had enough” of telling people they are going to hell for not listening to him and will instead spend his retirement floating between the Vatican’s £500m of international real estate.

Benefits of being The Pope reportedly include 20% discount at major high street retailers and complimentary tea and mints at most Italian cafes.

Following Mussolini’s large financial backing in return for papal recognition of his fascist regime back in 1929, Benedict has been mothering the church’s nest-egg ever since. The Vatican empire remains shrouded in secrecy with purchases being outsourced to companies without links to the church, helping to maintain the notorious ‘muddy-puddle’ transparency over its internal affairs.

The Pope said to be well grounded in one of his nuclear bunkers where he will remain until God calms down and the two can have a chat. The Vatican insists that business will proceed as normal and that they have an emergency pope ready to be released from the catacombs should Benedict make a run for it. This follows concern from the Catholic Legal Defence Fund that without his Pope status, Benedict may be pursued for his role in the cover-up of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church.

If you hated having an uncle monkey, you will not Adam and Eve this…

Creationists the world over gave a sigh of dismay as scientists revealed a dreamt-up image of how the first ‘placental’ mammal may have looked. ‘Placental’ mammals are those mammals that give birth to live young, such as humans, rats, dogs and, whisper it: monkeys. This common ancestor has been ‘discovered’ (or doodled if you’re of the creationist viewpoint) after examining the traits and genetic information of 86 species of ‘placental’ mammals and is a step forward in the study of evolution. Our creationist source stated:

“Just you wait here a moment while I go get me my witch burning hat […] Jebadiah! Where you done gone put my witch burning hat?”

Mother “weasel-rat” more likely to be kept in a hamster cage than have her picture above the mantel-piece.

This ‘mother of mammals’ looks like a shrew with a long hairy tail or a cross between and rat and weasel leading to the name “weasel-rat” in some circles. The “weasel-rat” (ratus-weaselus) weighed no more than a few hundred grams and ate a nutritiously tasty diet of prehistoric insects.

After the dinosaurs negated the risk of having live young become a tasty snack by helpfully becoming extinct, the “weasel-rat” flourished. Through a long and drawn out process of evolution, these cuddly little mammals, led to homo-sapiens and over 5000 of our placental mammal cousins, including your uncle monkey. Unfortunately the “weasel-rat” does not link you to kangaroos or the amazing duck-billed platypus as they are not placental mammals and so could still be the product of design by a probably drunk, Australian, god.