Welsh village can't pronounce own name either

THE inhabitants of a village in the Welsh valleys have admitted they do not know how to say its name any better than you do.

After years of simply muttering under their breath or shrugging when asked where they lived, residents of picturesque beauty spot Pythmchlwyth have finally decided to come clean.

Postmistress Margaret Jones said: “Our village name looks like an unplayable Scrabble hand. You’d think I’d have learned how to say it from my parents, but they just mumbled something a bit Welsh-sounding and changed the subject.

“I’m not even sure I could spell it. With a gun to my head, I’d be pretty confident it has two Ys and some Ls in it, but I’ve no idea where they go.”

Jones went on to confirm no one in Pythmchlwyth had spoken any Welsh there since 1990, although they did ramble on tediously about their Welsh heritage when confronted with an English person.

Local resident Alun Jeffries said: “Of course I can pronounce the name of the village. I just like to refer to it as ‘the village’.”

When pressed, he added: “Pimmywithywick?”

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Static caravan becomes roasting tin

A STATIC caravan on the Isle of Wight has become a roasting tin capable of cooking a family of four in one hour 40 minutes, they have confirmed.

The caravan, which has spent almost a fortnight as a metal rain-amplification box where the constant drumming of water drowned out all other sound, is now so hot it instantly turns human skin to ash.

Staycationer Tom Logan said: “Remaining in the caravan became unbearable shortly after 7.10am this morning, before any of us had eaten breakfast.

“We gathered, still in pyjamas and blankets, in the shrinking shade of a tree to discuss our options. My wife ran back in to get her phone and was lucky to receive only first-degree burns.

“We’ve now had to relocate to across the road as the caravan is now radiating heat to a distance of four to five feet. You could toast marshmallows on it.

“The plan is to spend the day on the beach while avoiding the police arresting us as refugees, then attempt to re-enter the caravan around midnight. I will open the door with a long pole while wearing a welding mask.”

Year-round resident James Bates said: “Ah, they should come back in winter. So cold your bodily functions are forcibly shut down. I closed my eyes in November and opened them in March.”

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