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Buckingham Palace are delighted to announce today that Prince Andrew has spontaneously started to sweat again, following years of sticky shutout and clammy calm.


'We had thought that the condition was permanent,' said a foot person, 'But this morning we discovered Andrew Albert Christian Edward, Duke of York, KG, DNR, GCVO, ASBO, DUI, swimming in a vast pool of his own spontaneous secretions. He was calling for help and babbling that he would be next. We assumed, of course, he meant next in line for the throne. It is constitutionally impossibly that he meant anything else.'


It appears that the prince had panicked, for some reason. On awakening, the royal panic rode along the ancient nerve pathways and alerted the venerable sweat glands with the traditional call of 'fucking hell, run!'. The glands then came to the rescue of the royal corpus, as so many of his glands had done before. And lo, the prince erupted.


'We assume they were sleeper glands' said a royal doctor, 'because that's easier than admitting that he was probably sweating all along.'


Despite concerns about the causes of Andrew's self-fulfilling persperity, the palace is putting a positive spin on things, saying in a press release today that at least the design of the royal memorial Andrew fountain is sorted.


Andrew continues to deny any Lynx.





Although media outlets have likened it to a political supernova, eclipsing all the others, most astronomers agree that UKIP is barely visible in the political firmament. Bemused by the press hyperbole, one scientist concluded: ‘Our telescope was launched to measure the birth of stars and the evolution of galaxies, not the limitless void between Nigel Farage’s ears. Please get some perspective; UKIP polled less voters than Ashleigh & Pudsey. And one of those two is a dog. A dancing dog!


While it’s a cause for concern that some voters have no taste in TV; in terms percentage of population it’s really very small. I’d advise Britain’s 8.2million immigrants to join UKIP and then vote to have the original 20,000 inbred members deported!'


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A cricket tour of Australia by a school team first XI from Guildford has entered its 15th year. Due to the achingly slow pace of the sport and the length of matches, there was always a danger that a team somewhere might try and see a tour through to completion.


Head of Tedious Sports at the Royal Grammar School, Jeremy Thwaite said, 'We set out with good and proper intentions. When the first innings of the first match went into its second month, I told the boys to suck it up and see it through. Our strict training programmes at the RGS Guildford prepare boys for long days eating cucumber sandwiches in the pavilion while waiting to bat, and the endless hours of standing around not doing very much on cricket pitches when fielding.


'Unfortunately, the middle three matches of the five-match tour have been declared void as all of the boys were over age by then. But I have had great pleasure watching these boys grow into men. They have, of course, missed the opportunity to receive a tertiary education, begin careers, find partners and start families, but they will always be able to say that they saw this pointless exercise of bat wafting through to its conclusion. Which is, of course, much more important and rewarding than living any other sort of life.


'We're in the final innings of the fifth match now, so we are looking forward to returning home some time in 2036.'




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