The Bugle - Dead Hill Walking

Episode Date: May 11, 2008

The 28th ever Bugle podcast, from 2008. Written and presented by Andy Zaltzman and John OliverThis is a classic episode from The Bugle, to support us, and to keep the Bugle alive and free of ads, please visit http://thebuglepodcast.com/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Dancelaguard fans, you will be thrilled to know a book is coming out if you fund it via Unbound. We are publishing the Dancelaguard Reader by Alice Fraser and Dancelaguard, a glorious insight into the world of Dancelaguard, self-published romance maven, and online bestseller. If you would like to find out how to support it, go to thebugelpodcast.com. If we get enough support, we will publish the book. That's a real thing that's going to happen. Thebugelpodcast.com to support the Danciler Guard Reader. The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world. Hello Bugleers, and welcome to Issue of the Bughal for the week beginning Monday 12th

of May 2008 with me and his ultimate in a scorching hot London and in New York City, John Oliver. Hello, Bughlers. There's no way it's hotter than it is here, Andy. No way. That's just statistically no way. Well, it's Damhot here. How hot is it in New York?

Bloody damn hot really. Yes, that's a big claim. Have you been you've been surfing? No, I've just got back from Pasadena last night though. No, I guess people are kind of inclined to do things like that Did you not catch a few waves? Well, you were I mean do you catch any waves? Well, I've ever caught a wave. Did you drop a wave? I don't think you drop waves. I don't think you can do that with a wave. I don't think you can bust a wave either. Really?

I'm really not sure what your limitations are regarding what you can do to pay. But I've certainly never busted one, dropped one, or what was the first one? Caught. Caught, never caught one. In fact, this week one. Clear the way. In fact, this week's section of the bugle that is going straight in the bin is a special

summer section to commemorate the official beginning of summer and the features of the summer section are the hot summer activities for the year 2008, which includes sweating, panting, spitting and swearing. Also, how to get a great tan without going outside, the key is just don't wash. Also, what to do whilst you're being eaten by a shark, the key here is don't antagonize him by saying, call those teeth. They told me you could bite or I can swim but you can't walk. Top story in this week's Bugle, and we have grave news. Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign is grievously ill, friends, family

and grieving financial backers are gathered around the campaign's bedside, reports from within the Gary Hart Memorial campaign hospice, say that the campaign is, quote, as good as dead and barely functioning as a real campaign anymore, staff at the hospice said, we've seen countless campaigns going the same way over the years, but it doesn't make it any easier. Hillary Clinton has continued her slow, elegant, free fall towards defeat, tugging away at the ripcords of primary parachutes in North Carolina and Indiana, both of which failed to inflate enough to halt her plummet towards Valiya, and even her emergency super-delegate rocket boots look as if they're about to let her down.

She's become like the Japanese soldiers who fought on long after World War II at Ended. Hiru Anoda fought on for 29 years after the end of the war until his old commander Major Taniguchi gave him the official orders to stop. This could well happen here. She could become painting long after Obama or Makaina sworn in as president next year. The voices calling for her to pull out are increasing in number and volume, and they're now starting to resemble not so much critics as concerned box inspectators screaming out, stop the fight!

As someone gets repeatedly pummeled, throwing anything that even resembles a towel towards the ring. Stop the fight! After the love of God, stop the fight! In fact, doctors at Democratic headquarters are urging Clinton to make the end as quick and painless as possible, perhaps a kindly pillow over the face, a caring vile of cyanide in its morning grits, a lovingly American baseball bat round the back of the head, but sources close to Hillary Clinton suggest that she prefer to let it die a natural death on grounds of self-promotion.

How has this got so bad, Andy, that I actually feel sorry for her now? This is one of the least sympathetic people in the country, and yet I just want to give her a hug. Then, then though, she goes and says something about how a barmer can't get the support of working class white people, the moment passes, and I have to withdraw that hug offer offer and she must remain unembraced. Her campaign is now $25 million in debt, 11 million of which is her own money which she has loaned herself. An American democracy really is the biggest and the longest in the world, Andy. It's also the most expensive, so it just has to be the best. It's like art. If it's expensive, it must be good. The cost of becoming president is no longer the most mind-blowing statistic. It's now how much it costs to lose. You can spend a billion dollars and still not be president. It's just ridiculous. I guess that just shows how far the dollar has been devalued.

Clinton claimed after winning Pennsylvania a short while ago that the tide was turning and she was right, but sadly that tide proved to be the one at the edge of a small inland pond slightly exacerbated by a passing pedalogue. She also told supporters after squeaking of victory in Indianapolis last week that it was now full speed onto the White House, albeit that was full speed on a two-legged donkey, and the White House in question was in fact Jack and Meg White's house, where the Clintons are taking on the White stripes in a behind closed doors winner takes all triathlon of drinking, shrieking marks for both volume and pitch, and caged wrestling. Bring your own chair.

Well, that's only going to be Meg and Hillary left standing at the end of that one. But what happens when you owe Dona so much Andy? Well, things like this happen. Arden Clinton's support to Harvey Weinstein reportedly threatened Speaker Nancy Pelosi with cutting funding to the Democrats if they didn't find a way to count the delegates from Michigan and Florida.

That kind of thing happens. You get held to ransom by the executive producer of the Nanny Diaries. There have been many signs of this doom ahead though. Hillary compared herself last week to the horse 8 bells just before the Kentucky Derby, a horse who was second favourite. Sadly, 8 bells came in second and was then immediately euthanised on the track. Unfortunate and yet prescient.

Well, very few politicians have quite such an amazing ability to do predictive metaphors of their own careers. I think she should be praised. I guess she's not really in demand as a horse pundit anymore. Please, don't pick my horse Hillary. Don't pick my horse. It's only young. But so it is fizzly out a bit of the Democratic campaign, John.

Because there's quite a few primaries left, but they're all quite small. I think the Democrats really need to look at how they organise their campaign. There's a lack of drama. I think they probably should have kept a few of the big states to the end to get a real showdown. That's really what the fans want to see. Yeah, her chances of winning do now look as remote as the chances of any candidate in this race being photographed at a rally without appearing to do a Nazi salute. I guess it is quite hard to wave at a crowd

or even just articulate in any way with at some point looking like you're doing a Nazi salute and that is always the picture chosen. I guess the key is to make sure that everyone standing behind you isn't also doing the same action. That's when it starts to look suspicious. Are you saying Hitler was just very badly whisked and screwed by photographers, Andy?

Yeah, yeah. Anything out of context looks bad. Or be it his was in context and looked bad. And was bad. And what was bad? Yeah, it didn't just look bad. It was really bad. I'm not saying the waving was the worst side of his character. But it was yet another unpleasant one. character. But it was yet another unpleasant one. Things are decidedly more exciting in Zimbabwe, where opposition leader Morgan's Fanger has agreed to participate in Robert McGarby's victory in the presidential election runoff.

Zimbabwe left Zimbabwe shortly after the first leg of the election. Now this suggests to me, John, that he doesn't really care to swarmed off on holiday before even finding out whether or not he'd won. I mean, is that a kind of guy's in bobboy once in charge? I don't think so. I think the most striking thing about Sven Gerai is that he's talking like a man who's slightly confused that he's still alive. Everyone just assumed that he'd have been killed by now. Every day's a bonus. I'm surprised he's not parachute jumping, getting tattoos and fulfilling his bucket list. This final round runoff is like an election going into overtime. Who's got the heart for the win?

Is it the grizzled campaigner who seems to be building huge numbers of illegal players? Or will it be the plucky young upstart? Morgan's Fangeri is the ultimate underdog. He's like the mighty duck, Sandy. He just needs a mealy old estervist to coach him to an unlikely victory. What you cannot learn from the mighty ducks is not worth knowing. It picked up where Plato's Republic left off. I can't wait, John.

And the tension is growing by the day. It's sort of like waiting for an answer from a newly qualified doctor who dislikes awkward situations. That's very much what Havocin Barberian public must feel. The second round is now are going to happen. Although apparently there might be a bit of a delay before it does and big Bobby McGarby, also known as the Harari Headbanger, is still in there with quite literally a fighting chance. But I disagree that Svangaroi was the underdog. I think McGarby was very much the underdog here. And if he can pull it off, it would be one of the most extraordinary come

from behind victories. You could imagine everything seemed to be stacked against McGarby. He had massive hyperinflation, 85% unemployment. The economy has gone to pieces like a flimsy jigsaw and a fist fight and a cheap bus on a bumpy road during an earthquake. Then there's the world record low life expectancy and the

agricultural sector is pretty much lying in the cold draw with a tag ground. It's big toe. So people are starving like this and motormorrow than poverty is grinding like a 1990 South African opening batsman. Plus if you did manage to make it to the polling station there was a pretty good chance you'd be dying of AIDS anyway. So everything seems stacked against him. Who is going to vote for the man who has overseen the decline of a country to that extent? Plus, when you throw in the fact that in the first round of voting, McGarby lost conclusively, well, if he can actually win in these difficult circumstances, it would be an extraordinary achievement. It takes a special kind of leader to pull that off, John. Super. You know what? You know, Andy, you're right. I've got

them all wrong. He is the underdog. He's like the Jamaican bobsled team in cool runnings. There are huge concerns over widespread voter intimidation, including beatings and killings outside the major townships. At the moment, villages are not being allowed to pick up grain without an official membership card of Magarby's party. It's the ultimate loyalty card for any supermarket. One man after being given a beating by Magarby's goons onto a suspicion of not having voted for him, and, incidentally, I just don't 100% believe for any supermarket. What man after being given a beating by Megalby's goons on suspicion

of not having voted for him? And, incidentally, I just don't 100% believe that Hillary Clinton would not do that if she could definitely get away with it. I'm 98% sure she wouldn't, but that still leaves a very nervous 2%. But the worst part of this story is that he was given a certificate to show that he'd received his beating and told to present it whenever someone else wanted to beat him as proof that it had been done. The paper even had a date stamp and the signature of the leader of the group. And this really throws up a number of questions. Were the goons on a quota bonus system? Was this like a loyalty card? Received 10 beatings and on your 11th one you'll let off free? Or was this like a loyalty card received 10 beatings and on your 11th one you'll let

off free. Or was this like Magarby certificate of quality? Do not accept beatings from any imitators. It does also suggest that the beatings probably weren't very good. If you need a certificate to prove that you've been beaten, I mean in the old days, John, when people knew how to beat people up properly, you know, you could tell someone had been beaten just from looking at them and hearing them whimper. Oh, stop romanticising the past. Living that now. MUSIC

My and my news now, is it good news or is it bad news? Well, of course it is. God continue to punish the poorest nation on earth for reasons best known to him or her. They must have done something, Andy, or else he's acting like a colossal dick with some very racist design flaws in his creation. There are big concerns over the government in Myanmar refusing to let international aid workers in to assist or even just to observe. And it's hard to guess at their reasons for this maverick political move.

Maybe one, they have a very dark sense of humor, and I think this is a very funny practical joke. Two, there's a problem of translation, and whilst the world thought they were saying, no, you can't come in, seizing eight trucks of airports before they can be distributed, and holding foreign emergency workers at gunpoint, this is in fact a traditional Burmese greeting for thank goodness you're here. Are people are suffering please get to work immediately? Three, they are allergic to assistance and being within a hundred miles of medicine from frontier makes them come out in a rash. Or four, they slept through the cyclone and haven't quite realized what happened yet. But yeah, the junter are complaining about Western interference. In what is essentially the private Burmese matter of letting their own citizens die in the privacy of their own private country.

And, you know, that they're actually, as it's none of our business, General Thanche Way's basic policy is to say on behalf of his country, it's now called myanmar, not youranmar. So that's basically why he doesn't want to let anyone in. It's sort of like a Jehovah's Witness unplugging a blood transfusion into someone else's ill child, then explaining to the doctor that, well it's not my child, but it's not your child either. Well John British and American governments don't recognize the junt as official 1989 changing of the name from Burma to my Anmar. The Bugle's official position on this is to use my anmar, but with a snort of derision tacked onto the start, kind of my anmar, or actually to lighten the

mood a bit by calling it my grandma. That's the other alternative. If you know they need a bit of, they need a bit of laughter over there. Actually to confuse things, the first known written name of the country from the 12th century was spelt, Merma, which is, I think, you know, makes either version acceptable if you're really sticking to the roots of the country. These are applications for workers from the world food agency in Medesan, Sanso, Frontier were held up as the office in Myanmar had gone home for the weekend. You know what Andy, I don't want to pass too much judgment here, but if your country is in the midst of a humanitarian nightmare, work the weekend. Work the weekend. You may have promised to take your wife and kids out to the park, but I think they'll understand. I think you'll get a pass on that one. In fact, you know,

I'm going to go even further, Andy. I'm going to suggest working through lunch as well. I'm not saying don't have lunch. I'm just saying eat at your desk whilst you're processing vital visa applications. You can put in for the overtime later if you have to. More news now and British terrestrial broadcaster ITV has been slapped on the ass with a 5.7 million pound fine for being naughty with viewer phone invotes for some of its inexplicably popular prime time shows. Now some of you might think that premium rate phone lines, promising people a chance to be on television, are merely one or all of the following, a, an entirely justifiable tax on the gullible, b, a much-loved part of British broadcasting tradition, as proved by the fact that so many of our highest-rateers shows have offered their viewers the chance

to be fleeced on the phone, see a metaphor for life or D, financial Darwinism in action. But ITV Chairman Michael Gray admitted that Britain's biggest commercial broadcaster had perpetrated a serious cultural failure, which looking at the majority of its output, is also ITV's company slogan. Just when he thought the ITV couldn't treat its viewers with any more contempt, they essentially mug them as well. And they owe me, Andy. They all owe me. I'm committed to democracy, so I vote on everything.

And there is so much voting available now, it cost me £1.2 million every year. But I do it, because I love democracy. This is what we've fought some wars for. So I can express which 19-year-old glorified karaoke singer I want to have a brief year in the music industry before being chewed up and spat out by the heartless system. And I choose you David Artyleta. I love the way you sing about Fiendy's, you cannot possibly have experienced. You connect with a song David, David, sorry, I've already forgot your surname. And finally in news, American billionaire Tycoon V. Rantford Havskowski has announced the launch of a new religion. He said at the launch, while stressed in a special spangly

cape and wizards hat, we are offering our customers and believers a world record guaranteed 25 days off work a year. We've got a special date of pretty much anything and you can take them when you want. He's also promising a synbin whereby all syns can be atone for by sitting on a special bench for a few minutes, looking glum and shaking your head. And a 100-day guilt-free naughty spree for the first 200,000 applicants. Avskowski who began making his fortune selling parachutes to indecisive lemmings, before moving on to selling meat wholesale to the French catering trade, quite literally, flogging dead horses. He later became known as Johnny Megapuck's on the back of a scheme that involves selling new pleases and very small knives to the North Koreans. And now after the

secest of his afterlies for Atheist franchise, he is branching out into a full religion, the first such project since American football legend Dan Marinos, ill-fated quarterbacks for his use effort, hit the buffers yesterday afternoon. It's good to get these things off your chest. It's good to get these things off your chest. Bugle birthdays now and Israel is 60. Happy birthday, Israel. Happy birthdays, Israel. Many happy returns. I guess whether you're celebrating this by firing your fireworks vertically or horizontally, will depend largely on which side of the religious fence you're trapped.

Because it does seem that some of the religious fence you're trapped. Because it does seem that some of the Palestinians are a little bit chippy about being turfed out of their lands surrounded by walls, yaddy, yaddy, yadda, but come on, you know, it's a birthday. Can't we all just be happy for Israel for once? Sixty, that's... Come on, it's Israel's special day. She's princess for the day. Anything she wants to die on her special day.

Well wish she's having sent in by literally some of the world. Mahmoud Ahmed in a jant of Iran, Bugle favourite centre, birthday message from Iran saying, well, something about Israel being a decaying corpse, but I'm sure I was just one of those humorous birthday cowards, Andy, comically insulting, bit of fun, bit of harmful fun. And a message, a birthday message also came in from Jesus saying, happy 60th birthday. I haven't been keeping too close a watch on what's been going on over the last 2000 years. I've been working on my backhand, but I presume that it's been a smooth, enjoyable time for the Jews over the years. Here's to another 2000 years of fun, JC.

So it's nice that he remembered as well. That's right, of course, Jews do believe that Israel was promised to them by one or both of God in the Bible and British man Arthur Balfour in 1917. Balfour had skills. And it's interesting actually that Britain left the land that had previously been promised to Britain by Britain. They left in 1948 and the modern nation of Israel was born. The next day after Britain had left five different countries invaded Israel. That is classic Britain. And I'm sure our response at the time was by God, who's been in gone 12 hours,

not really the place has gone to shit. Ha ha ha ha. Not in 1948, it's a very busy year for Britain skipping away from places, leaving intractable conflicts behind them. It's the same year that we left Burma, interestingly. Oh, there you go. Have a wee bean, wonderful parent. That's right, 1948. And of course, there has been the world's longest running continuous conflict in Burma that's been going since 1948. So, well done, Britain. Well, I think we can really give

ourselves a pat on the back for that. So it was a very busy year in 1948 for Britain. No wonder we couldn't beat Don Brabman's or conquering Australian cricket team that summer. Too much on our minds. Re-match, re-match. ["Match"] Goggles on now, it's the Bugle Science section.

And in another birthday, the internet is 15 years old. So it's nearly old enough to look at all the sorted images in itself. And perhaps the best thing to do is to take a moment to imagine what life would be like without the internet, Andy, and what, you know, there'd be no bugle for a start. Well, I don't know.

They would be a bugle. That is unpalatable food for thought. They would be a bugle. It would just be me and you having an expensive telephone conversation. That's true. But it would stop me that because all our chats historically have taken the form of a loosely structured audio newspaper. That's that's the way we roll.

But it's better this way. You can't deny that. It is better. Yeah. Also, Andy, without the internet, you'd have essentially no facts in your head. That's not true. I'd have a lot of facts. They would just all be about cricket. No, well, yeah, but nothing else. I'll put it to you that you reached the stage where without

Wikipedia, you are nothing. You just be rocking backwards and forwards in a chair, staring blankly out of the window. John, that kind of information is not supposed to be public domain. There are 165 million websites now with 95% of them featuring cats playing pianos. The internet is the ultimate democracy, Andy. It's very invention. It's a sign of how far humans have come. And yet its content shows just how far we have yet to go. The only thing we seem to all be able to agree upon is that cats playing pianos is both

funny and adorable. It's the one thing that binds us together. Surely even the terrorists can find Cats playing piano is funny, Andy. If we could just get to see that that is what America is, it's a cat playing a piano. Quite a fat cat, yes. I'm playing the piano quite badly, certainly. But a cat playing the piano nonetheless.

Really, because it does seem that from most of the reports on the newspapers, that 95% of the internet is only cats playing pianos if cats playing pianos is a metaphor for naked ladies. So Tim Berners-Lee who invented the internet is in fact more responsible for the aggressive dissemination of naughty picks of the female species than anyone since God made Eve so damn hot in the first place and got the whole ball rolling. But it's quite interesting, I think, John, that the internet, one of humanity's most amazing achievements, which is utterly transformed the way we communicate, has, like, all technological advances been used, principally for the transmission of pornography.

Now, a lot of people say this is symptomatic of the distorted values of the modern era we live in, but in fact, it's always been this way. For example, when people first discovered that by scraping grass off a hillside, they could make pictures out of the chalk underneath. Their first thought was, wow, this is great. Let's make a man with a massive whang. Then let's do two nuns with a horse. We mean nuns don't exist yet. Well, we'll just do the horse. What is the tangible impact the internet has had on the world, Andy? Well, this week, a local council employee in Japan was punished after it was discovered he had access porn websites

at work more than 780,000 times in 9 months. His habit reached its peak last July when he surfed for porn more than 177,000 times during office hours. That works out at almost 10,000 pages a day or more than 20 each minute. He was sat at his desk. In fact, that is one every three seconds. And that's working straight through lunch and probably working late at least twice a week. If he could just harness that workrate into a non-pawn capacity, he could be an incredible employee. So, Google listeners, do you like the internet, email us in with which you prefer out of the internet, life in general, or dogs? You can't have more than one, one of those three.

The other two must die. And for some pretend science, now a man has claimed that he grew his severed finger back using some magic dust. Scientists claim, no he didn't, he clearly didn't, the manner's hit back saying, did so. The scientists responded, come here and say that, come into my lab, waggle that finger in my face and tell me it grew back because of magic dust. The man were told, all right, where's your lab? The scientist was fried, it's on an industrial park outside Cambridge in England. The man said, oh I'm sorry, that's tricky, I live in America and I'm busy. The scientist said, oh how very convenient, the man said, oh I'm sorry that's tricky, I live in America and I'm busy, the scientist said, oh how very convenient the man replied, losers, losers in love

coats and the scientist concluded, little sod. This man cut his finger off when putting it into the propeller of a model aeroplane. So the way it came off and the way it grew back were both equally weird. Model aeroplanes and magic dust. Are we absolutely sure that this man is not three years old? Did he get a magic bean which grew into a bean stalk as well? The regenerative dust comes with the University of Pittsburgh and Dr. Stephen Badilack calls it extra cellular matrix, though the man who had his finger cut off prefers to call it pixie dust, which is true.

He calls it pixie dust, which is essentially calling Dr Stephen Baddie-Lak pixie. How old is this man? Does he think that doctors live in trees and go to work on moonbeams? It's not that I don't want him to grow up. I want to be like him. That's the problem. This isn't contempt. It's jealousy. to grow up. I want to be like him. That's the problem. This isn't contempt, it's jealousy. In other sounds like it's made up science news, scientists have alleged that tomatoes could have properties which could stop cancer. Now, is this how far we are away from curing cancer, Andy? All those billions have gone into research

attempting to stop it. And all we've got is now a doctor pointing it to Marto and saying, have we tried one of those? I'm guessing that Cure for Cancer is not coming. They're going to start putting one about Pineapples. But I'm not saying it's likely I'm saying have we tried it? No, well then try it then What about ham Your emails now and this comes from Jed daily dear John and Andy as a native arcans and I take umbridge at Andy suggestion that Arcansus should be pronounced the rhyme with Kansas there. I've done it again Even a cursory examination of the United States Order of Statehoods, writes Jed, would reveal that our Kansas, again, became a state some 25 years before Kansas. By all rights, Kansas should therefore be pronounced

can saw as we were clearly here first. Yes. Well agreed. I think that really proved my point. Furthermore, the official pronunciation of our Kansas was determined by a vote in the state Senate, and as we all know, democracy is never wrong. Absolutely. So you're wrong, Andy. The American people have spoke. You're wrong. I'm right. You're completely wrong. Well, you sound wrong, John, but we had another email from Timothy Frye, who says that I'm at least partially right about the pronunciation of our Kansas. And John poshley right. It's always deculent. You're giving British people a bad name.

It's like American saying Ed and Bro. Well, you know, call it a revenge attack. Lightchester Square. That's exactly the same. Anyway, Timothy Fry continues, hence John and the American can at least partially go to hell. Well, take that. As a man who grew up in Kansas he continues, near our Kansas City, and who now lives in Oklahoma. I can speak with some authority on this topic, yes, some.

The pronunciation of our Kansas, that you used, does occur frequently throughout Southern Kansas and Northern Oklahoma. And those, I know we've got a huge following in those places, John, and I was really speaking to our beautiful listeners in those two benign, did countries. The day we start listening to people from Ogla Home,

Andy, is the day we may as well just give up. There's an email here from Nick Richardson, who says, dear John and Andy, let me begin by saying I love the show. Good start to an email. Always good. Always good. Good start with a compliment rather than an insult. Although to be honest, either do get our attention. He says, I'm not sure if it's the funny or the accents, but you're doing something right. About three months ago, the bugle supplanted MPR's talk of the nation as my go-to podcast when getting in

bed. Sure, the dulcet tones of Neil Conan are a great lullaby, but nothing compares to the Queen's English when it comes to putting me to sleep. Look, he's probably already asleep now, but... ...cune-ic! Wake up, you f***er! Oh, he's awake again, good. Not to mention, he says, the effect of verbal stylings have on the hotties over here, as per usual, what gets them excited makes me drowsy.

Basically, your grace and atomy. Good point. He goes on to say, it didn't stop with MPR since I began listening to your program. I've steadily abandoned Mugs forms of American media for New York Times for the BBC, Saturday Night Live for Monty Python. And the other day, I found myself watching my beloved

Boston Red Sox and thinking, Humph, this game is a lot like cricket. They almost got it right. I've never even seen a game of cricket and I use the third person to refer to Americans. They not we, which brings me to my question, what is happening to me? Why do I suddenly identify more with British culture than American? And this brings me to my accusation, it's all your fault, isn't it? You're broadcasting anti-American pro-British propaganda, backwards and inaudible frequencies while I'm sleeping, stroke having sex in an attempt to poison my mind against America, aren't you? Well, aren't you? Yes, we are.

Incidentally, there is absolutely no way that anyone is having sex while soliciting to the Beatles. It's too dangerous. If you are contemplating attempting to have sex while listening to the bugle. It can't be done. Apart from during the Hotties from History section, we are going to imagine that. Well, that's true. And people get in carried away. It can't physically be done. We are, if nothing else, an excellent form of birth control. Apparently, what Catholics everywhere should be listening to us. Apparently, staff at Madame staff at Madame Two Sword since the Hotties from History 6 and begun have complained about increasing the service. Don't extend that door. Oh, you're proud of yourself. 33 years old and pissing on Madame Two Sword's great legacy, a waxy, waxy legacy. Hotties from history now and we have a nomination from Emma Lennox, who nominates a woman she

describes as God's own pinup girl, the beautiful Pope Joan. That's right, this woman was so hot she broke through the frat boy ranks of the Vatican city despite being a woman pretending to be a man whilst inconveniently pregnant. As his special representative on earth, God obviously wanted his Bible-licious babe on speed dial and who can blame him after centuries of self-flagulated scrotums. Jones well-bonded chest and presumably manly features would at least warrant a divine boutique all or two. Stand back, Ratsinger, those come here the right-hulles do nothing for me. With Pope Jones' fem crust time looks like the Catholic Church has finally turned me gay.

It's what it wanted all along ever. Sam Knox from Washington State, USA, he says, on casting my hobbies from history vote for, Emil Erlinmeyer, anyone who could create such a central piece of scientific equipment must have been a hunker, hunker, burning phosphorus. I can't think of anything better than a role in the hay with one of those flasks

A bunsen burner and a big chunk of palladium after five or six bottles of nitrogen cooled bud light line Oh The pleasure to keep your emails coming into the bugle at times online dot com dot UK Sport now and it's the final weekend of the Premiership Football Season in England. John, who I can't see anyone other than Chelsea or Manion Arches having won it by the time this is broadcast. Well, never say never Andy, football is a funny old game and just don't be surprised if Luton comes screaming through to take the prize that you know philosophically is rightly this but interestingly Clubs part from Chelsea night and might have any chance of winning it this year mathematically

But the interesting thing is that apart from Arsenal Liverpool the rest have exactly the same chance of winning it next year as well So really the premiership is the capitalist dream the illusion of competition with the guarantee of dominance Exactly It's dream, the illusion of competition with the guarantee of dominance. Exactly. Exactly. It's just what Bill Gates dreams of every night. Sure, you can all have a go. Oh, that is a lot of money. Audio cryptic crossword time now, and it's the penultimate clue in the world's greatest audio cryptic crosswords. I realise that the impending end of this is tragic and glorious news to some and some of you. I just can't let myself believe it yet. In case you've snatched it away and had another clue. Well, I can always have the crossword. Optimism in check. I can add another crossword.

I can easily do that. That's not happening. That's not happening. There's no new crossword. This is it, Andy. You had your chance and you blew it. I haven't blown it, John. It's been the greatest cryptic crossword in history in the audio format. You just try to make it longer by talking about it. This week's clue is eights down and ironically it's also eight letters long. And this clue really gets to the heart of what it means to be a worker in a family-owned business. And it's this. New England soul singer appears in the afternoon and gets a job he's not really qualified for because of who his daddy is. Ah, it's an ongoing workplace injustice. Eight letters. And Bugle forecast time now, and the forecast for next week is whether or not the bugle cryptic

crossword will in fact end. My forecast is please yes. Please let it be over next week. My question is that like the life of Jesus it never truly ends. It's now there in the world and it will always live on in people's hearts and minds. But like the life of Jesus, hopefully most people can ignore it. Well, if the cryptic crossword has more than a billion followers in 2000 years' time, then you'll be very much laughing on the wrong side of your dead face.

Babaibuglers. Babaibuglers. Glows.