Junkies To Be Renamed 'Heroin Buffs'

DRUG abusers are to be renamed ‘heroin buffs’ in recognition of their in-depth knowledge and appreciation of the world’s finest narcotics.

The UK Drug Policy Commission said terms like ‘junkie’ and ‘addict’ stigmatise decent, productive members of society who live ankle deep in vomit and would stab you right in the head for 50 pence.

Deputy director, Julian Cook, said: “In the same way that Dan Snow is a history buff or Rick Stein is really into haddock, can we not also apply the mantel of buff to someone who has taken the time and effort to develop a connoisseur’s palate for opium derivatives?

“We should acknowledge the intellectual commitment and passion of those have decided to live in a cesspit, eat nothing but their own scabs and inject themselves eight times a day with a needle they found stuck up a dead rat.”

He added: “I recently met an expert who could not only distinguish between Afghan and Burmese heroin, but could tell you when it was harvested, who mixed it with Vim and how many heads the local warlord had hacked off that year.

“But where’s his six-part series on BBC4?”

Stephen Malley, a crack aficionado from Hatfield  said: “I’ve been building up my collection of antique pipes for 20 years. This one was hand made in 1867 by Martin Van Hegelen, one of the finest glass blowers in Rotterdam. It’s really quite exquisite and gets me totally fucking mental bastard off my tits.

“By the way, if I throw up blood on you, please do forgive me but I’m researching an article on some fucked-up Cambodian shit for the London Review of Smack.”

Wayne Hayes, who lives in Stephen Malley’s bath, added: “I am hoping to complete my Master of Heroin exams later this year and then take up a fellowship at the Doherty Institute in Kandahar.

“Or I might just keep filling this bath with piss.”

 

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One Woman's Week

By Karen Fenessey

LAST week, Madonna celebrated her 52nd birthday in lavish style. But the celebrations were eclipsed by coming of age of a totally different kind in the form of Lourdes, her 13 year old daughter.

Yes, it’s the day everyone’s been waiting for with a sense of grotesque inevitability: Lourdes has finally set to work on those eyebrows. We’ve watched for years now as the Queen of Pop’s daughter was showcased around glitzy bashes in a series of ever shrinking miniskirts which seemed to correlate directly with the unstoppable spread in feral, Latin-inspired facial decoration. And now we’re all asking ourselves: is 13 too young to tweeze? I suppose the answer should be ‘no’ if you’re Hispanic or something along those lines, but surely ‘yes’ if you’re just normal.

Of course, mother and daughter sported crucifixes a la Madge in the 1980s. But really, this is just for show as Madonna converted to Voodoo Jewishness years ago. These days she doesn’t even believe that Jesus is the son of God and if she saw him near her house would probably wrestle him to the floor with her muscular limbs and then nail him to her garage door. But what can you do when you’ve already named your daughter after the most famous Catholic shrine ever invented? Imagine if Morrissey had a baby called Steakbake – he’d have to turn up to the child’s birthday parties wearing a little sausage roll around his neck.

Anyway, good luck to Madonna in her advancing years. If smokers can live to 103 then so can tarts.

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What about Must be the Music, Sky’s answer to the X Factor? I’m never one to racially stereotype but this show is being dragged down by the crass, street vulgarity of a certain judge. That kind of slurred ranting might be okay when directed at the greyhounds at your local track, Miss Spiteri, but in my living room it’s just invasive and traumatic. A My Fair Lady-type spin-off show would easily double ratings. We’ll civilise the brute yet!

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How exciting that now PM Dave’s on his Cornish retreat, we’re all in the dainty hands of Nick Clegg Esquire! With his milky white thighs, curving smile and pretty nose, he is living proof that Pride marches can make a difference.