Mayor of London to ban cooking at home

A leaked report from the office of the London Mayor Sadiq Khan sets out a plan to ban cooking at home.

“50% of domestic fires start in the kitchen,” says the report. “Therefore any credible fire prevention strategy has to start by banning cooking at home.

“Moreover, most of the remaining fires are caused by faults with electrical wiring or appliances, so they’ll have to go too. And having something as flammable as gas piped into every home is clearly just asking for trouble. 

“In short, we’re looking at a future of homes without any heating or light, where you can’t cook food - no of course you can’t build a campfire in your garden, are you crazy? But in return for completely throwing out modern civilisation, we’ll all be much safer, and it will also help bring London closer to net zero.

“Some would say this is a high price to pay, but looking at the Mayor’s transport strategy, I know this plan will be in line with his thinking.”

However, Khan is said to have spluttered into his latte when he read the report, saying “For God’s sake, we’re only pretending all the 20mph limits, Low Traffic Neighbourhoods and ULEZ zones are anything to do with safety. Has this guy been living under a rock?

“At the very least, we need some kind of system for fining people if they cook dinner or heat their homes. Otherwise we might end up making them safer without making a penny out of it.”

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Schrodinger's cat finally debunked by letters from his neighbours

Schrodinger famously postulated a thought experiment where a cat put in a box with a flask of poison and a radioactive material that potentially could discharge a particle detectable by a Geiger counter that would be set up to break the flask, killing the cat.  As the release of the particle was random and undetectable outside the box it would be impossible to know if the cat was alive or dead unless you opened the box, with the suggestion that until that point in time the cat was both alive and dead. However...

Surrey scientist Bill Redmonds and his drinking buddy, history lecturer Alan Fountain, who holds regular history debriefs in the local Wetherspoons have debunked the story.

'First of all,' said Bill today, 'have you ever tried to get a cat into a f@cking box?  Just a box, never mind one rammed with fragile flasks of poison and a 1930s Geiger counter, which would be about the size of 32 inch TV back then.  The flask would be shattered in the first two seconds killing the cat and Schrodinger.  In fact, scratch that, the cat would be out of the room before anyone realised the flask was broken,' he added.  'Even if you got the cat in the box, with or without the flask, Geiger counter etc, etc, you would be in no doubt if the cat was alive or not.  The bloody box would be bouncing around the room, unless the cat was dead.  Thought experiment, my arse,' he said.

'But,' said Alan, holding up a handful of letters, 'his neighbours had cats, either side, and he was forever sending letters complaining that their cats were sh!tting on his lawn.  Then he proposes his "thought experiment" and the letters stopped.  I bet he didn't have to worry about cat sh!t either from that point on and I for one would think twice about getting a replacement cat.

Scientists have refined the theory in the light of this revelation.  Imagine you have a lawn and your neighbour has a bloody feral cat.  If there is sh!t on the lawn is the cat alive or dead?  If I've got anything to do with it...

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French police send Clouseau to “stop ze boats”

Stung by accusations they aren’t taking the small boats crisis seriously, preferring to let the English police deal with migrants once they arrive in Kent, the French police announced they were sending their top man, Inspector Jacques Clouseau of the Sûreté. 

Clouseau spent his first few days standing on the beach, calmly watching the migrants as they climbed into small boats and set off across the channel. When his assistant François suggested they’d done enough observation and should actually do something, Clouseau agreed, saying it was time for lunch. Moreover, that afternoon and the three days afterwards were a holiday to commemorate the birthday of the President’s dog. “And after zat, of course, it’s ze long weekend.”

When Clouseau returned the following Wednesday, refreshed and more determined than ever to do his duty for France, migrants were nevertheless able to get past him because he was distracted by his manservant Cato constantly attacking him without warning.

He then formulated a plan to disguise himself as a migrant, infiltrate the group and switch their dinghy for one with a leak, forcing them to remain in France. However, a series of comedic mishaps meant he ended up in the leaky dinghy himself, sinking while the bemused migrants sailed past him in a catamaran, the water washing off the blackface makeup you’d never get away with these days.

After several more disasters, he was hauled over the coals by Chief Inspector Dreyfus, who called him an incompetent, bumbling halfwit who couldn’t run a bath, and asked if he’d ever considered a career in politics. 

This left the crisis in the hands of the policeman from ‘Allo ‘Allo, who later reported “I was woking on the bitch when I saw a crood of purple climbing into a small boot.”

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