My Big Gap Year: Walk Like A Reincarnated Egyptian

Dispatches from Poppy Spalding

I've always believed I am the reincarnation of the lush, gold-plated boy king, Tutankhamun. That is why it was imperative that I returned to my old stomping ground of ancient Egypt to check out my pyramids and cop some rays.

I first knew about my former life when, as a child, I watched The Mummy with my parents. As soon as the movie started, a vision came into my mind of exactly how the plot would develop as if the whole  thing was already imprinted into my psyche.  I knew then that ancient Egypt was in my blood and that surely I would be the one to unlock the secrets of the pyramids.

Coach tours were running to Giza from outside my hotel. I prepared in the ancient Egyptian fashion of Queen Cleopatra: bathing in milk and honey. I purchased a jar of honey, two cartons of milk and some kefir from the supermarket and emptied the lot into my freshly run bath. However, it smelled rather weird. In fact, after I'd bathed, I couldn't help thinking I didn't smell sexy at all.

But then I reminded myself that this was what the ancients were into and the Romans seemed to go for it. I suppose it's just as well they never travelled by coach because as the day got hotter I really did start to smell like feet.

Upon glimpsing the famous, yellow triangles I was struck by how disappointingly small they were. Tut was only like five feet tall so I guess they seemed a lot bigger the last time I was here. But as I got close up, I realised what amazing structures they really are. I mean, no one knows how they built them. Even today, with the biggest JCB in the world, we still can't build a pyramid. Even Kevin McCloud doesn't know how. It's mind blowing.

Filled with awe I strolled around, waiting for Tut to appear to me in a vision. He didn't, but a man selling camel rides did. I took him up and it was well worth the money. Coupled with the fact I felt transported back to my ancient royal roots, the animal stank of piss and totally disguised how I smelled  a lot like freeze-dried parmesan.  

Incredibly, that night, Tut came to me in a dream. I knew it was him by his goldy beard. He said: "The pyramids were built by aliens in the year 50,000 BC. They did it using telekinesis and magic." Then he told me that I had to sell as many Ginster’s Pasties as I could to everyone in the bar so I could get a special bonus. It was pretty mad.

So now I have a new mission: I must do a report for Channel 4 News about the pyramids as relayed to me by Tutankhamun and one day soon everyone will know that Ancient Egypt really is the greatest city in the world.

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Anger At 'Tweethop' Plans For Birdsong Radio Station

FANS of a radio station broadcasting birdsong have attacked plans to play urban-themed 'Tweethop' music in which some of Britain favourite species rap about killing the police.

Birdsong FM said 'Tweethop' and the more aggressive 'Chirp' would reflect the issues of modern avian life, including egg theft, gun crime and scoring high-grade skunk off some Bulgarian magpies.

Tom Logan, head of programming, said: "Acts like Public Chaffinch and Menace to the Nutsack are doing some really exciting things with their music – when they're not shooting each other in the face with semi-automatic weapons."

Public Chaffinch's controversial anthem Fuck Bill Oddie (Right in Da Ear) is one of the Chirp scene's biggest hits. The act features two chaffinches, a coal tit and a rare Barnacle Goose with a firearms conviction known as MC Tizer.

But many regular listeners are horrified by the changes. Martin Bishop, from Doncaster, said: "I like to listen to tits while making model boats in my shed.

"I've always found it very relaxing, until yesterday when I tuned-in to hear a sandpiper tweeting about his 'big ting' and repeatedly using the F word, the C word, and a word beginning with R which I was not familiar with."

Daphne Page, from Hatfield, added: "Not only is there profanity but every few minutes a wood pigeon goes 'shout out to HMP massive', which is intensely annoying.

"I shan't be listening again and if the RSPB want me to renew my subscription they can take it out of my big, creamy white ass, muthafukaz."