Much like a Womble, we hate to see good rubbish go to waste here at The Twaddle. So, we keep all the old, haggard words that used to be on our front page, in that hope that they will one day Womble free once more. Look – there they are now!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggg ggggggggggggggggggg ggggggggggggggggggggggggggg ggggggggggggggggggggg ggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
On a sunny June night a couple of years ago, we received a queer message from the Andromeda Galaxy on our DAB radio. “Why, that's neither 6 Music nor talkSPORT!” we exclaimed among ourselves. “Whatever the devil is it?”
It turned out to be instructions for building a massive, giant, world-whipping supercomputer. So, we collected as many old ZX Spectrums, Commodore 64s and Sega Master Systems as we could find lying around, and set to work assembling the beast. A few days later, the Twaddlebot was born.
It's been running The Twaddle increasingly ever since. Just recently, it picked up another message from Andromeda – presumably from its evil alien overlords – much to the chagrin of The Twaddle Staff, who were in the midst of trying to enjoy a thoroughly entertaining radio programme about squirrels.
Since then, it's been driving round to our houses in its Sinclair C5 every so often, having a listen to whatever's currently blaring out of our Ghetto iBlasters and reporting back to the world at large via The Twaddle.
We were bloody annoyed when it caught us listening to S Club 7, but I suppose we only have ourselves to blame.
The world-famous, wholly original Twaddle badge
You, too, can join The Twaddle Brigade by donating an article of any description. Ideally it would be informative, witty, eloquent and as controversial as you fancy, but to be fair, we're not fussy. It's just that the more articles you write, the fewer we have to bother with.
In return for your wonderful submission, if you're lucky, you might receive a much-coveted badly-Photoshopped Blue Peter Twaddle Badge, guaranteeing free entry into parks, shopping centres and libraries across the United Kingdom.
Send a comment, a response to one of our articles, a new article of your own, or just any old crap to email@thetwaddle.co.uk. By submitting stuff you agree that The Twaddle and/or its creators and/or their evil overlords can – nay, must! – do whatever they like with it for ever and ever, amen.
Recently, The Twaddle HQ (off the A19, just south of the Bat Cave) was accosted by a representative of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, commonly abbreviated to CoJCoLDS. Fortunately, we (or rather our Germans) were taking care of the Hounds of Love for Kate Bush, as the Futureheads were busy making Coventry history (at least that's what we think they said... well, we hope they said that). We summoned them and in one fell swoop they vanquished (OK, mauled) the CoJCoLD.
But, during the brief seconds for which the CoJCoLD could speak before screaming and pleading for mercy, he must have succeeded in imparting some of his faith, as we now suddenly believe that The Twaddle could be resurrected and have long hair and wear sandals and stuff. And absolve people of their sins. We're pretty sure that hasn't been done before.
While wandering aimlessly down one of The Twaddle HQ's many expansive corridors recently, we bumped into our friendly, Twad Brew-ing Germans again. Of course, they'd been laying towels all over the place, eating Bratwurst and listening to Neunundneunzig Luftballons, but they'd also acquired an intangible elephant by the name of Timothy.
According to them, he turned up on the outer perimeter of El Twad HQ with naught but a haversack and a pineapple, one day while we weren't paying any attention to anything. Being intangible, Timothy can't be seen, heard, felt, smelled or even tasted, but the Germans seem to like him. And anyway, he doesn't take up much space.
Um Bongo was only brewed and drunk in the Congo after it had been bought out from what were to go on to be the PG Tips monkeys.
The Hippo flaunted the recipe in the advert as if he'd invented it. In reality, he gave the PG Tips monkeys plane tickets to England in exchange for the rights to the recipe.
If you have any sense, you'll refrain from buying this product as the Hippo and Rhino (who pretended to come up with the name) are charlatans. They and the PG Tips monkeys were all unavailable for comment, as was Lucky the Dog from the More Than insurance adverts.
The Twaddle HQ seems rather empty at the moment. It takes a lot of people to maintain the HQ; too many, in fact. So, unwilling to lay off any of the beloved El Twad HQ Dinnerladies, we've scaled down the Website Department instead.
As a substitute for genuine content, we've ploughed all of our limited arsibility resources into fashioning a cracking new design for the site. Nifty or what?
As ever, The Twaddle Forums remain open for business, serving as an important platform for El Twad-related debate and other inconsequential chit-chat.
Meanwhile, the Twaddlebot has been handling much of the maintenance job quite adeptly, in spite of the fact that it has no soul. We trust that it will continue to churn out high-quality sod-all in the absence of any staff having the time (or bothering) to actually do work on the site.
In fact, it can finish the rest of this blurb. I'm off home.
After the latest 10-hour session of Micro Machines Turbo Tournament '96 here at The Twaddle HQ, we stumbled upon a German in one of the HQ's many lengthy corridors. Unsure as to what to do with it, we honed its beer making expertise into producing Twad Brew, which we now have on tap in every room in the building. Sinks and toilets will never be the same again.
There have been crowds of groupies loitering outside The Twaddle HQ for the past few weeks, begging for a glimpse of the long-awaited follow-up to Fahrenheit 9/11; but we fired up the Expletatron and shouted something unrepeatable at them. Now it's finished we can finally present Never a Frown.
Last night, here at El Twad HQ, we were enjoying a good night's viewing on the television, accompanied by intermittent engine noise from the Batmobile, when it struck us that Anne Robinson rather resembles a mango. “By golly!” we said to one another, ”How much of a mango is she?!”. Anne Robinson was unavailable for comment.
Being the kind of classy establishment that we are, The Twaddle now has a proper address: www.thetwaddle.co.uk. How cool are we?
Accompanying this “swift” upgrade comes the promise of a few new articles. Wonderful, aren't we? Yeah, we thought so too. Expect a second-to-none documentation (with easy-to-understand pictures) of the perfect world we should all live in, as envisaged by our perfect selves; a knee-jerk attack on the media's knee-jerkiness; and the final nail in the coffin of Political Correctness – The Anti-Twaddle of this world.
Not forgetting, of course, more The Twaddle-y craziness.
It's said that everyone has the potential to write at least one book. To hell with that – write an article, and throw it towards email@thetwaddle.co.uk. It could be about anything: a spin-off article; a new idea or concept that you, you idealistic pig you, have thought of; a way you plan on changing the world; your plan to train squirrels to clean, fire and reload cannons, etc. Alternatively, tell us we're wrong – we'll probably publish that, too, just for the craic.
The Twaddle's automated swearing machine, the Expletatron has been reading a dictionary and can now string together more complex naughty words. Fun for all the family!
New for August, and as part of the continuing effort to give the impression of progress, we present a new, more topical, “cool” new theme. As predicted, Ice looks absolutely marvellous. And it's new.
The Twaddle is brought to you by the letters F and U and the number 666.
“Fahrenheit 9/12”, “Mangoes”, “Who.what.where?”, “Second Issue Coming Soon!”, “Charity”, “What a load of...”, “Here's something topical” & “Guest Writer: Johnny Rotten” published 2004-08-02
“Germans” published 2004-08-03
“Dinnerladies” published 2004-10-08
“Two Steps on the Water”, “Timothy the Intangible Elephant” & “Um Bongo – Did You Know?” published 2005-07-16
“T is for Twaddlebot” & “Send Us Stuff!” published 2006-04-06
“Avian Influenza!” published 2006-04-09
© The Twaddle MMIII—MMVII
I bet they don't even drink it in the Congo