The Whitechapel Whelk

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The Whitechapel Whelk

Meghan’s Reckless Toilet Visit Could Have Destroyed Palace, Says Daily Mail

The Daily Mail newspaper has claimed that if Meghan Markle had chosen to use the lavatory at Buckingham Palace during a prolonged period of heavy rain, the old Victorian sewer that runs beneath the Palace could have become backed up, causing a catastrophic failure of the crumbling system of main chambers and side channels.

This in turn would have led to the whole building collapsing, possibly killing The Queen and any other royal personage present at the time.

In a sensational revelation, the Mail claimed: ‘If she had used the toilet during a period of heavy rain or a Thames flood tide, the old Bazelgette sewer would almost certainly have collapsed, killing The Queen.

‘It’s all well and good introducing some mixed-race diversity into the royal family but not when it puts lives at risk.

‘ Imagine if Kate and the children had been swept away and drowned in a tide of shit and piss. How would that have made her feel?

‘Happy probably’

A year ago, the same newspaper claimed that Meghan once slipped American black people’s opium into Prince William’s tea so that she could have sex with him while he was in drug-induced torpor, making her pregnant and thus enabling her to pollute the royal bloodline by giving birth to the first non-white King or Queen of England.

A Merry Vegan Xmas With Tracy Slaughterhouse-Gore

stacy slaughterhouse

Season’s greetings everybody!

There’s nothing quite like sitting down to a delicious Christmas feast with dear friends and beloved family members is there?

So I like to take extra care to ensure that everything is absolutely perfect on the big day.

People think that because my family and myself are strict vegans we can’t enjoy a delicious home-cooked feast at this most blessed time of year, but they couldn’t be more wrong.

Every year, bright and early on Christmas morning, I visit my local turkey farm where I insist on beating the bird of my choice to death with an iron bar.

The excitement of the chase and the bloody denouement as the struggling creature finally succumbs to a repeated series of death-dealing blows really gets me in the festive mood.

Once I reach home, I get the leftovers from last year’s dinner out of the freezer and leave it to defrost slowly in the microwave on full power for 10 minutes.

The wonderful stench of rancid sprouts and burnt sage and onion stuffing balls soon begins to pervade the kitchen, filling us all with expectant Christmas cheer.

Then it’s off to the pub with one of my fancy men while my husband and kids cook the turkey.

I always give them strict instructions to text me as soon as it’s cooked so that I can get few more ales under my belt before setting off for home.

Finally, after a really good skinful, I pop into the kebab shop next door to the pub and pick up a large doner with chilli sauce to eat on the way home. The look on the little one’s faces as I stagger into the front room, with kebab juice running down my chin makes all that extra effort worthwhile.

When cooking the festive bird, some people like to use a meat thermometer to ensure that it’s cooked right through, but I just tell one of the kids to stick a skewer into the fleshiest part of the bird after about half an hour, and if plenty of blood spurts out it’s ready as far as I’m concerned.

For dessert, I always go for a traditional family favourite and get one of the kids to go down the Tesco Express on the corner for an out-of-date tiramisu, or something along those lines.

I like to serve this with lashings of rich, beef and pork fat gravy, along with some thick, uncooked slices of black pudding.

Then, of course, it’s time for The Queen’s Speech and the opening of the presents. I’ve asked my husband for a poleaxe this year which I’m looking forward to using on one of the ponies in the nearby children’s zoo on Christmas night before taking it home for the pot.

I like to to drag the carcass home behind my Range Rover to tenderise the meat and then butcher it in the garden in readiness for the raw meat buffet on Boxing Day.

So have a wonderful, ethically-sound Christmas everybody, and remember my motto: “If it moves, kill and eat the bastard before it can get away”

A very Merry Xmas and a prosperous and Happy New Year from me, Tracy, and all the Slaughterhouse-Gore clan!

Tracy Slaughterhouse-Gore is Chairperson of the Blood Lust and Raw Innards Society of Great Britain

Whitechapel people are direct descendants of Jason and The Argonauts, claims TV archaeologist

Jason pictured battling against the local Whitechapel men before having it away with their women

The actor and part-time archaeologist, Tony Robinson, claims to have discovered ancient scrolls on the Thames foreshore, proving that the fabled Greek hero, Jason, and the crew of his ship, The Argo, landed on the Isle Of Dogs in East London in the olden days, lured there by the womenfolk of Whitechapel who beguiled the mariners with a performance of Knees Up Mother Brown on the jetty.

Robinson, famous for his role as Baldrick in Blackadder, told The Whelk that the Argonauts then ravished the women and impregnated them before sailing off to continue their quest for The Golden Fleece.

‘The scrolls prove beyond doubt that everyone in Whitechapel is a descendant of Jason and The Argonauts’, he said.

‘The ancient script recounts that Jason himself made free with a young, fair-skinned beauty who was the daughter of a Whitechapel innkeeper, and it’s my belief that Peggy Mitchell out of Eastenders is a direct descendant of the couple’

This latest revelation comes almost 10 years from the discovery that the people in the South London district of Bermondsey can trace their bloodline and unpleasant aspect back to 1080 BC when the monstrous, multi-headed dragon, The Hydra, was taken advantage of by the grotesque one-eyed giant, Polyphemus the Cyclops, in a drunken episode behind a Tescos supermarket in Cold Blow Lane.

Local baby had horrible feeling he left huge brightly coloured phone on bus


An 18-month-old Whitechapel baby yesterday afternoon had a panicky sinking feeling that he’d left his huge, colourful plastic phone on the number 24 bus after his mother got off in a hurry at Tottenham Court Road station.

The youngster reached for the device as his mother began pushing his buggy the short distance to Oxford Street with a view to ramming it into his mouth, making the buttons squeak during the gnawing process, only to find it gone.

Fearing that he’d dropped it on the bus during the hurried descent down the stairs, the child bawled lustily in the hope of alerting his mother to its loss.

However, his plaintive wails and whimpers went unheeded and his mother simply pushed a dummy into his mouth and told him: ‘Now shut up you little twat’

This incident comes just two weeks after a two-year-old youngster from neighbouring Aldgate went into paroxysms of ear-splitting screaming in the street after becoming convinced that he’d left his garishly coloured squeaky plastic hammer at his Aunt’s house following a visit.

Nigeria in talks with UK for the return of Jacob Rees Mogg

Jacob speaking latinFollowing recent successful negotiations with several museums in the UK for the return of looted artefacts, the Nigerian government are now believed to be in the advanced stages of talks to secure the return of Victorian missionary, Jacob Rees-Mogg.

Rees-Mogg, who is estimated to be over two hundred years old, disappeared from his mission station in a jungle clearing close to the capital, Abuja, in 1847.

Initially, it was thought that the Roman Catholic member of the White Fathers evangelical order had been killed by native tribesmen and possibly eaten, but he then re-emerged in the Horniman Museum in South London where he remained on display in a glass cabinet for almost half a century, kept alive on a diet of hard tack biscuits, acorn gruel and holy water

In the 1960s, a deal was struck with the Rees-Mogg family who took him back to the family home in Somerset where he enjoyed a brief career as a performer in a local music hall, singing sea shanties and Victorian love ditties in a high falsetto while riding back and forth across the stage on a penny-farthing bicycle.

He then entered politics and became the Conservative member for East Somerset and more recently the Minister For Brexit Opportunities.

After failing to find any, he asked to be returned to the museum where he remains in the basement, awaiting restoration work on his knees and monocle.

A museum spokesman told newsmen last night: ‘We realise that Jacob may have been looted so we are very much open to returning him to Nigeria.

‘Let them pay for his kedgeree breakfasts and monthly subscription to Mature Nannies In Suspenders.’

In 1947, the museum successfully fought off an action to return Tory MP, Ann Widdecombe, to the United States after they claimed she had been looted from The House of Grotesques on Coney Island by drunken matelots from HMS Bulwark in 1870.

Local woman now comfortable that her fleeting fantasy of butchering husband will endure forever


A 34-year-old Whitechapel woman has come to accept and even embrace the fact that the fleeting thoughts she had of brutally killing her sleeping husband following a flaming row will be forever lodged in her subconscious, periodically surfacing whenever a bitter argument develops between the two.

Tracy Dell has now come to terms with the premise and is wholly at peace with the fact that her murderous fantasy of hacking at her husband Toby with a hatchet before butchering his corpse will be a constant for the rest of her life.

She is also extremely comfortable with the imagined denouement of the bittersweet gore fest in which she puts the pieces of his dismembered body into bin bags and throws them down the rubbish shute at their apartment block in Vallance Road.

Actress in cold cream ad thinks director is a ‘fucking arseole’ following shoulder rubbing directive

cold cream
Other bullshit, nigh-on useless rip-off products are available

An actress in an ad for moisturising cream has condemned the director as a fucking arseole after he asked her to apply a small amount of the cream to the top of her shoulder in the opening shot.

Tracy Dell, 25. from Fashion Street in Spitalfields, told The Whelk: ‘The intro of the ad starts with a picture of a woman’s freckled back with patches of dry skin accompanied by a soothing voiceover which claims that this cream shit can eradicate it.

‘So why this fucking arseole told me to rub a tiny blob onto my shoulder with a blissful expression on my face is way fucking beyond me.

‘In my view, a guy with a muscular torso should have massaged some of this crap into my back.

‘That way, the back theme could have continued, along with the fact that some of the gullible middle-aged bitches that fall for this bilge would have got a little hot under the gusset and gone out to buy some in the mistaken belief that some hunky dude would end up rubbing it into their puffy, shrivelled up hides. It’s a simple as that my friends

‘I should have just walked out there and then but I need the cash for my rent and shit like that.

‘To be honest, the cream is crap anyway. I wouldn’t even rub it into the cheeks of my arse or yours come to that’

A spokesperson for the agency commissioned to make the ad responded: ‘Look, we don’t hire the directors and we’re sorry that Tracy thought he was a fucking arseole.

‘Maybe he is. Who knows? Why not ask his wife?

Ms Dell’s condemnation comes just two weeks after Strictly Come Dancing presenter, Claudia Winkleman, told Vogue magazine that the director of her latest hair shampoo ad was ‘A fucking shambles and an industrial-strength cockwomble’

Local man wanted to administer Kronos-style castration to ‘veering’ fellow shopper


A 54-year-old Whitechapel man has told The Whelk that his towering rage at a man’s erratic guiding of his supermarket trolley became so intense that he wanted to sever the man’s genitals with a sickle just as Kronos did to his father, the Titan, Uranus, in Greek mythology.

With flecks of spittle visible around his lips as he recalled the incident, Toby Dell, a toolmaker from Leman Street, told us: ‘This piece of human detritus kept veering from side to side in the aisle.

‘He seemed to have no thought for others as he aimlessly meandered across various aisles like the fetid scum he so clearly was.

‘I immediately thought of how Kronus hacked off his father, Uranus’ genitals and tossed them into the sea and felt an overwhelming desire to inflict the same punishment on this piece of vile sub-human rubbish.

‘Luckily for him, I had no weapon to hand to do the job so I followed him home in my car and posted some dog shit through his letter box’

Mr Dell went on to tell us that he often feels driven to exact terrible punishments on people he encounters, based on ancient myths, and once wanted to ram a smouldering, sharpened stake into the eye socket of a dithering woman in the queue at the post office like Odysseus did to the Cyclops, Polyphemus on that island.

Eurosport wins bidding war to screen Ghana fan having a wash before World Cup final


Sports broadcasting minnows, Eurosport, have made a successful bid to live stream a Ghana soccer fan carrying out his ablutions on the morning of the World Cup final on Sunday 18th of December.

The fan will be seen washing at the sink in his hotel room, cleaning his teeth and brushing his hair before setting off for the big match.

It is understood that Eurosport have also struck a pay-per-view deal that will enable premium viewers to watch him waiting outside for a bus to the ground.

Eurosport beat off competition from a number of minority broadcasters with a bid believed to be in excess of two hundred pounds, although the right-wing British TV company, GB News, pulled out when somebody told them that the fan was likely to be black.

The unnamed man will receive a fee of twenty-five pounds plus a complimentary bottle of Brut 33 splash-on lotion for agreeing to take part.

This latest coup eclipses the successful seventy-five pound bid the broadcaster made in 2012 for exclusive rights to stream the Wigan Athletic team bus driver checking his tyre pressures on the morning of the FA Cup Final clash with Manchester City at Wembley.

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