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Starmer flees to International Space Station

THE prime minister has informed parliament he cannot answer questions as he is orbiting Earth on the International Space Station for the next 18 months. 

Starmer released footage of himself on the ISS, said he is there for the ‘furtherance of British interests’ and unfortunately would be unable to attend today’s planned Commons session as he is studying the effects of zero gravity on protein development.

He continued: “I didn’t tell you? Well, that demonstrates how easy it is to forgetfully withhold crucial information from others, Olly bloody Robbins.

“Yes, I replaced a NASA crew member at short notice and without his volition, but I am confident I’ll prove an asset to this space station. Also while I’m up here I am in the jurisdiction of no nation and cannot be charged with anything.

“For the next 18 months, while bunking up with these gregarious Americans and wily Slavs, I will remain in position. Can’t lie to the House when you’re 254 miles above it in the empty blackness of space!

“Like Tim Peake before me, I will regularly broadcast to Earth. But easy stuff like primary schools and sporting events. Otherwise I’m out. Good luck in the council elections!”

Deputy leader Lucy Powell said: “We’re already seeing the poll boost.”

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Birds thrilled to shit on your laundry again

BIRDS are waking up singing merrily every morning because the season of them crapping all over the clean clothes you have hung out is here once more. 

The warmer climate means that guano will no longer be wasted on the uncaring earth, and instead can be used to gaily decorate your clothing, sheets and garden furniture.

Blackbird Stephen Malley said: “Sure, in winter there’s always your cars, but usually rain clears most of it off. That doesn’t give us much satisfaction.

“Yeah, shitting on a window is excellent but requires excellent aim and risks death, and hitting a human’s head or shoulder takes practice. Also apparently they’ve started calling it ‘lucky’ and I hate giving them that.

“But fresh, clean laundry on a line? Oh boy. Every year we hold an inter-species tournament. The dirtier and greener the shite, the higher the score. Bonus points for delicates and lace.

“Is that a pair of white jeans dangling invitingly from a rotary dryer? A lamb to the slaughter for the acidic missile I’ll shortly be ejecting at high speed from my sweet cloaca.”

Inner-city pigeon Mary Fisher said: “On the branch chirping with an old friend, I couldn’t be more jealous of how much he’d unloaded this early. Seeing my excrement drip all over an empty bench loses its novelty.

“I’m moving to the suburbs. It’s the only way to defile clean clothing at scale.”

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