Earthquake frightens Cumbrians into giving up incest

CUMBRIANS have imposed a moratorium on sex with close relatives amid fears they may have angered a supernatural being who lives deep in the ground.

Cultural seismologists said last night’s earthquake would be interpreted across the region as an intervention from some form of deity who is displeased with fundamental aspects of the north western lifestyle.

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “Their first instinct will be to give up their long held commitment to passionate incest, at least temporarily.

“If they remain quake-free for about a fortnight they’ll assume it was just a slap on the wrist and return to their narrow-band rutting.

“If, however, there are a series of reasonably strong aftershocks then we may be witnessing the first tentative steps towards a Cumbrian establishing an intimate relationship with a second or even third cousin.”

Previous natural events have engineered a shift in Cumbrian behaviour. Locals insist a week of gale force winds in October 1997 was the Archangel Brian expressing his concern over the first topless rat dancing club in Workington.

Since 1998 all dancing rats in the county must wear bras or bikini tops.

Meanwhile the recent heavy snowfall has left many Cumbrians wondering if they should discontinue the centuries old practice of firing bespectacled women into the sea using an enormous rubber band.

 

 

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Vince Cable fans looking like a right bunch of twats

THE millions of people who said Vince Cable was exactly the sort of politician this country needs were last night looking like a bunch of grade-A twats.

Across Britain, smart-arses who spent all of 2009 telling everyone they knew to pay attention to Mr Cable, were overcome by wave after wave of cold nausea as the wise old Lib Dem MP gifted the British television industry to Rupert Murdoch.

Martin Bishop, a first time Lib Dem voter from Stevenage, said: “I admit that my admiration for him was based almost entirely on the Mr Bean gag. Hello, my name is Martin and I am a twat.”

Helen Archer, from Peterborough, added: “I am currently going back over his old statements about the credit crunch to see if I can find anything that wasn’t actually obvious. As things stand I do seem to be veering towards unbridled twattishness.”

But Julian Cook, from Hatfield, said: “I am in the luxurious position of always thinking he was a bullshitter, mainly because I read more than one newspaper article per week and the back of my head does not feature a row of shiny buttons.

“I am going to have the absolute time of my life today, finding the guilty twats and rubbing their smug, idiotic noses right in the middle of this.

“And when every other programme on British television is a fundamentalist Christian reality game show presented by Kay Burley and Ross Kemp, I am going to phone them up and shout ‘this is all your fault’ at them until they cry.”

But as Mr Cable’s underlying cretinosity was joyfully exposed, millions insisted they had never heard of him and even if they had they would certainly never have described him as the ‘sage of Twickenham’ at a succession of dinner parties where everyone agreed with them enthusiastically.

Cook added: “I suppose it’s a bit like St Peter denying Jesus three times before the cock crowed. Except of course that Jesus was Jesus and Vince Cable is just some daft old bugger with a column in the Mail on Sunday – which, by the way, should have been a huge fucking clue.

“Still, he will love being compared to Jesus.”