Lance Armstrong Admits Winning Tour de France on Small Motorbike

LA, California – America and the world of cycling were in shock today as Lance Armstrong, the controversial cycling superstar, finally admitted that he had won his record seven Tour de France titles with the illegal aid of a small motorbike.

Lance Armstrong confesses under the hypnotic spell of Oprah’s boobs.

Speaking on the Oprah Winfrey show, Armstrong said: “I think it’s wrong to benefit from unearned success. I shouldn’t be allowed to profit from endorsing products, when I don’t deserve my celebrity. I know this will come as a shock to everyone who’s supported me down through the years, to my family, to my friends, to my bike mechanic. But I’m afraid the rumours are true.” A single tear rolled down Armstrong’s rugged cheek. “I did win the Tour de France using a performance enhancing motorbike.”

“Actually, it was a Kawasaki Vulcan 2000,” said Armstrong, with a quick nod towards his sponsor. “A bike that can take you to the top of the world!”

Lance Armstrong became a national hero in America when he recovered from brain, lung, and testicular cancer to win the Tour de France seven times. However, his career has been plagued by accusations of drug cheating. Armstrong, though, flatly denied that this was the case.

“How on earth are drugs supposed to help anyone win the Tour de France?” asked Armstrong in exasperation. “Do you see anyone in the Tour de France who ain’t on drugs? I even put steroids in my gas tank, just to give me my bike a little more oomph.”

“And that was the guy who came last!”

“The steroids of champions, by the way, ain’t made in France. They’re made right here in America by Roid Sally Roid, Inc. of Houston, Texas,” added Armstrong, with a wink at the camera. “Just sayin’ to all you future Olympians, is all.”

Armstrong revealed that he first began to use a motorbike after his return to cycling from cancer treatment. “At first, it was just a small engine designed to look like a water bottle, you know? It could give me a little boost when I needed it.

“But then, when no one said anything, I started getting more reckless. I mean, everyone could see what I was doing, but who’s going to say anything to a cancer patient? Soon, I was thinking about just riding my Harley from start to finish.

“Harley Davidson,” repeated Armstrong in a tough, masculine voice. “The motorbike that made America, and helped an American in yellow shit on France.”

Armstrong admitted that he had had a number of anxious moments when it seemed like his secret was going to be revealed. “Yup, I came home one day and my wife threw a plate at my head and called me a cheating, lying bastard,” said Armstrong.

“Fortunately, she was just talking about my affair with Sheryl Crow.”

Asked by Oprah if he felt any regret about leaving his wife for the singer, Armstrong said: “Hell no! If It Makes You Happy, it can’t be that bad. And Sheryl’s willing to do All I Wanna Do, and I ain’t talking ‘bout her hit record!”

Crow said all Armstrong wanted to do was look at his seven framed yellow jersies all day.

“Oh, yeah,” chuckled Armstrong knowingly. “You heard me, France.”

Despite the secrecy, however, a few journalists began to suspect that something was wrong when Armstrong consistently won the Tour de France.

“Yeah, see that’s the real problem right there,” said Armstrong. “I wasn’t caught because I cheated; I was caught because everyone else cheated and I still beat them. Then people started asking how I did it. There was only one answer.

“Nike,” said Armstrong, looking meaningfully at the camera. “The sneaker of champions.”

Some fans refused to accept Armstrong’s heartfelt apology and discount offers on all Armstrong-endorsed products for the first 100 callers.

“I can’t forgive that man,” said Ellen Grant (32). “His confession just ruined my favourite film – Dodgeball. Now that scene where he persuades Vince Vaughn to return for the final just makes no sense.

“It’s a good thing Chuck Norris is still a pillar of integrity, otherwise the whole movie would be ruined.”

Chuck Norris – the last man standing for American values.

Others, however, said that Armstrong had more than proven himself in their eyes.

“He’s right, goddammit!” bellowed Hank Bowles (44), an executive with a sportswear company. “Nike is the sneaker of champions! Lance Armstrong, you’re all right!”

At the end of an emotional interview, Armstrong cried on Oprah’s shoulder and then received a standing ovation. “God bless America!” shouted Armstrong, visibly moved. “And fuck France!”

The nation cheered and then hurriedly dialled the hotline numbers running at the bottom of the screen for Lance Armstrong-endorsed products.

Obama Congratulates Celtic on Historic Victory

Washington – In the wake of last night’s historic victory, President Barack Obama today paid a moving and emotional tribute to an inspirational event that lifted the hopes and dreams of billions around the world – Celtic’s 2-1 win over Barcelona in the Champion’s League.

Obama celebrates Celtic’s win with youngest daughter specially dressed in green for the occasion.

In front of a giant audience of overjoyed soccer fans, Obama praised how Celtic’s courageous defiance of the odds had renewed his faith in the audacity of hope:

No matter what you do or where you go from here, you will carry the memory of the history we made together. (Cheers, applause.) And you will have the lifelong appreciation of a grateful president. Thank you for believing all the way – (cheers, applause) – to every hill, to every valley. (Cheers, applause.) You lifted me up the whole day, and I will always be grateful for everything that you’ve done and all the incredible work that you’ve put in. (Cheers, applause.)

Added Obama in a full-throated roar:

I can’t believe an 18 year-old came off the bench to score the winner! Tony Watt, you fucking beauty!!!!!!!!!

Barcelona are widely regarded as the greatest football team in the world and boast many of the world’s greatest players, including legends like Lionel Messi, Andres Iniesta, and Xavi Hernandez. However, these genii are all quite short, a fact Celtic exploited ruthlessly.

“Aye, we knew they were a bit on the wee side,” said manager Neil Lennon. “So we practised hoofin’ it long, right on top of their wee Spanish heads, ya know? Knockin’ it to back post, getting the big black fella’s nut on it, that sor’ of thing.”

“Take tha’, Messi, ya fuckin’ midget!” he bellowed triumphantly, giving the fist of victory to the cheering multitudes.

“My biggest dream is to be the big black fella nutting it in at the far post,” said a hopeful Obama.

Back in Washington, Obama admitted that Lennon’s forceful oratory had brought him to tears. In the wake of Celtic’s victory, he also acknowledged that a great event like that had the power to make politics just seem like a petty game:

Political campaigns can sometimes seem small, even silly. And that provides plenty of fodder for the cynics who tell us that politics is nothing more than a contest of egos or the domain of special interests.

After taking a hearty swig from a can of Irn-Bru, Obama tried to imitate the rhetorical flourishes of his Scottish heroes:

I’m glad I go’ tha’ election shite over in time to watch the match. Come on you Bhoys in green!

Getting drunker by the second on what is actually a Scottish soft drink, Obama went a bit over the top as he waxed lyrical on the promise of a new dawn held out by Celtic’s amazing victory, predicting that in the future everyone would be able to beat Barcelona:

If you’re willing to work hard, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from or what you look like or where you love. It doesn’t matter whether you’re black or white or Hispanic or Asian or Native American or young or old or rich or poor, abled, disabled, gay or straight. (Cheers, applause.)

Dejected Rangers and Barcelona fan Mitt Romney said this was the worst night of his life.

Pausing a little for effect, he said:

The only thing tha’ ma’ers is you’re no’ one o’ those Rangers-supporting Prod cunts! (Cheers, applause.) How ya doin’ down there in Sco’ish Turd Division, Rangers? (Cheers, hoots of derision, various sectarian abuse.) Maybe I should ask Mitt Romney to go have a word with ya, tell you all about what’s it like to be LOOOOO-SERRRRRRRS! (Huge cheers, shirts ripped off, gunshots.)

The global press reacted cautiously to Obama’s somewhat overblown victory speech but admitted that nothing much could really take the gloss off a special night in World History.

Tiger Woods Looking Forward to Playing with US Ryder Cup Team, Wives

Illinois – With the Ryder Cup due to start at the Medinah Country Club this week, American golfing legend Tiger Woods declared he was in ‘great shape’ and really looking forward to playing with the US Ryder Cup Team, and their wives.

The US Ryder Cup wives get ready to meet sex addict Tiger Woods.

“It’s always a thrill for me to represent America in the Ryder Cup,” declared Woods. “When I stand at the pre-tournament ceremony and see my team-mates saluting the flag, I know I couldn’t have asked for eleven better comrades-in-arms. I mean, did you see the women they brought with them?”

Wrapping the Stars and Stripes around his ebony golf shaft, Woods added in an exaggerated Southern drawl: “Some of their wives are also going to be saluting Old Glory this weekend.”

Woods is one of the greatest golfers in the history of the game, having won 14 majors and 74 PGA Tour events. However, his career took a nosedive after it emerged that he had been cheating on his wife with cheaper, skankier versions of his wife.

Asked about his sexual obsession with leggy blondes, Woods said: “You need me to explain this? Man, you country club types are bigger fags than I thought.”

The scandal rocked the US golfing establishment, whose wives are all cheaper, skankier versions of Tiger’s ex. Many leading golfers remain ambivalent about having Tiger Woods represent America.

“It’s a tough one,” admitted US captain Davis Love III. “I mean, on the one hand, the guy’s clearly the greatest player in the world. On the other hand, he’s also the greatest player in the world, if you know what I mean.”

Woods’ former wife, and the knock-off version of his wife he slept with ‘for a taste of something different.’

“That’s why the guys like having Tiger out on the course with them. If he’s playing a four-iron to the fifth green, you know he isn’t spreading your wife over the hotel breakfast table like marmalade on his black pudding.”

Mr. Love III then denied there was any racist element to his simile, saying that marmalade on black pudding was a staple of the American country club scene.

Some of the golfers on the team weren’t so sanguine about the prospect of Woods hanging around this week. Three-time US Masters winner Phil Mickelson said that it was time American golfers took a stand against immoral behaviour.

“Look, no one can deny Tiger Woods is a great golfer,” said Mickelson. “But it’s bad for team morale to have someone so reprehensible among us. His reckless promiscuity could set a bad example for others, like children, or more importantly our wives.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust my wife,” added Mickelson, looking around anxiously as he spoke. “Love happens between overweight middle-aged men and sexy young blonde cheerleaders all the time. There’s no reason why she’d ever sleep with a younger, richer, better-looking, more successful and very well-hung black athlete.”

“Hey, has anyone seen Amy?” asked Mr. Mickelson, suddenly standing up. He then dashed from the press conference clutching his cellphone, which rang without response.

Olazabal taking care of the European Ryder Cup wives.

European team captain Jose Maria Olazabal said that some members of his team were also worried by the threat of Tiger Woods. “Hey, I’m Spanish, so I know mi esposa is satisfied by my fiery Latin passion,” said the cocky Olazabal. “But some of those, how you say, pasty little hobbits from UK are getting worried, maybe rightly so. Rory McIlroy’s dating Caroline Wozniacki, and she’s right up Tiger’s alley.”

“Or maybe that should be vice versa?” mused Olazabal as McIlroy’s face turned pastier.

“Not to worry, I take good care of your wives for you while you play golf,” he said reassuringly.

Woods, however, remained unconcerned by the panic his presence was causing in the rooster house. “Hey, some of their wives are a little nervous, too, at first,” grinned Woods. “But they soon get over it.”

After Run of Defeats, Queen Commits to Beating Ireland at Hurling by 2025

Buckingham Palace, London – After watching Ireland successively humiliate England in cricket, racing, and rugby, the Queen called today for the people of England to devote all their energies to beating the Irish at hurling by 2025.

Queen Elizabeth II watches Ireland destroy England's Grand Slam hopes.

“Too long has one let the Irish taunt one at one’s own games,” declared the Queen with the thin-lipped bitterness of someone who lost a fair bit of her pension when the Irish swept the card on the opening day of Cheltenham.

“And it avails one nought to beat them in return, for they care not for the sports themselves. The gentle smack of leather on willow, the masterful riding of heaving stallions, the sweaty pursuit of oddly shaped balls – these simple yet beloved English pastimes are not valued by the Irish. They care only for the gloating when they win.”

“Paddy does love to have good old gloat,” added the Queen in a burning whisper as she replayed the final overs of Ireland’s famous defeat of the English cricket team in her mind.

“But one cannot have the posterior of one’s most royal sporting dignity so brazenly molested by a bunch of Micks, in full view of the world,” continued the Queen. “We must hit them where it hurts – in their sliotars.”

“I call on the people of England to devote all their energies to beating the Irish at hurling by 2025.”

A leather-clad Willow said she hoped the English found a new pastime soon.

News of the Queen’s speech at first raised mocking laughter across Ireland, swiftly followed by a deep sense of unease.

“Haahaha!” guffawed legendary hurling manager Ger Loughnane when he heard it. “Impossible! I’d love to see them try.”

“Although,” he added, scratching his head, “hurling hasn’t exactly had the best few years here. I mean, there’s only Kilkenny left in Leinster, the North may as well be playing tiddlywinks, and Connacht hasn’t got enough wood to make a single hurley.”

“And an awful lot of good young players have headed off to England because of the recession,” he added gloomily. “Jesus, you know, if they made all them English and set up a league for them, they wouldn’t be half bad.”

Loughnane shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the Queen hoisting the McCarthy Cup over Croke Park. “Ah, no, Ger, cop on, get a grip,” he muttered to himself. “Sure, it couldn’t really happen, could it?”

In a bid to forestall even the possibility that the English might put together a decent team and challenge for the All-Ireland championships, new Taoiseach Enda Kenny apologised to the English people for any recent upsets.

Kenny winked and said his discussions with the Queen on the hurling issue had been positive.

“We would, you know, like to say, cap in hand and hand on heart and heart in mouth, sure, that without eating our hats we’re sorry about batin’ ye out of shite recently in all sorts of sports,” said Kenny with his usual off-the-cuff mastery of the English language.

“I hope we can maintain our gentleman’s aggrievement that we only play the sports that matter to the English, and in which defeat doesn’t bother us at all.”

The Queen, however, was having none of Kenny’s confusing attempt to weasel Ireland out of its difficulties.

“Oh, it’s ON,” answered the Queen, glaring directly into the camera. “It’s on, bitches. You can’t go around trying to pretend that it’s not on, when it very much fucking is on.”

“IT’S ON!” repeated the Queen, before setting fire to a toy leprechaun’s crotch and clubbing it to death with the microphone.

Ireland's sliotars wait hopelessly for the English backlash.

Under the Queen’s direction, England has now organised Ireland’s ex-patriot hurlers into a nationwide league with a minimum wage of €50,000 for each player, a national academy of excellence for promising youngsters, and regular coverage on Sky.

A shellshocked Ger Loughnane reviewed England’s plans for hurling domination and acknowledged that Ireland couldn’t hope to compete with the English Premier Hurling League.

“That’s the bitch about being Irish,” said Loughnane bitterly. “Even the good stuff, like beating the English, rebounds to hit you right in the sliotars.”

Chelsea Players Can Still Shoot Accurately, Proves Ashley Cole in Typical Ashley Cole Fashion

London – There are footballers who talk a good game, and there are those who let their actions speak for themselves. English football specialises in producing the former – bullshit artists who can talk their way out of yet another miserable World Cup.

Ashley Cole is not one of those men.

Ashley Cole deepened his hate-loathe relationship with the world yesterday.

This week, Cole once again demonstrated his utter disregard for public opinion by making a public statement in the way only Ashley Cole can. With Chelsea under increasing pressure, Cole responded to criticism that Chelsea’s aging players can no longer shoot accurately by shooting a work placement student with an air rifle.

Said John Terry, Chelsea captain: “Well, that’s Ashley for you, you know, he’s a passionate guy who don’t give a toss. If he wants to say something – and he said he don’t have nothin’ to say to you shitheads – then he knows how to make himself heard.”

“I mean, would you really prefer it if Ashley came here in person to let you know what he thinks?” asked Terry, looking around at the assembled journalists inching closer to the exit in case Cole should decide to make an appearance. “You all know there’s nothing I like more than shagging the left-back’s wife, and Cheryl Cole was a real stunner, but I ain’t fuckin’ nuts.”

Cole has 87 caps for England, three Premier league titles, and a record 6 FA Cup winners’ medals. He is one of the only English players never to look outclassed on the world stage, having been England’s best player at many major tournaments.

Despite these handicaps, Cole has succeeded in his aim of becoming one of the most loathed and feared footballers of his generation.

Manager Carlo Ancelotti said that he was disappointed but not surprised by the shooting.

"Not with a ten-foot pole!" said John Terry emphatically.

“Ashley is his own man,” said the cosmopolitan Italian. “He is the only man I know who keeps an air rifle in his dressing room locker. He said he keeps it there just in case anyone got any funny ideas after that gay orgy story broke.”

“Nobody gets any funny ideas about Ashley in our dressing room,” said Ancelotti gravely.

Ancelotti was particularly put out by the idea that Alex Ferguson would not have tolerated such behaviour.

“It’s easy for Alex Ferguson!” exploded Ancelotti. “He only ever had to deal with pricks like Gary Neville, who was all talk. The problem with Ashley Cole is, he no talk. He just do it. He’s like a Nike ad made by Quentin Tarantino.”

Despite his personality and behaviour, Ashley Cole has oddly acquired a certain dignity in the context of English football. Irish sports journalist Dion Lynch spoke guardedly of his baffling respect for Cole.

“Most English footballers try to present two faces to the world; Cole has one face – the ugly face – and he refuses to hide it. You have to have some respect for a man not willing to hide the truth, which is why people hate him so much.”

“For example, he’s never apologised for his many affairs with women who weren’t as good looking as his wife,” said Lynch. “When Tiger Woods apologised for his affairs, it broke him as a sportsman, because he knew in his heart that he was no longer true to himself.”

Ashley Cole responds to an unwanted homosexual advance.

“Ashley Cole is always true to himself, which is why he’s such a great footballer and unabashed cunt.”

Lynch feels that insufficient attention is paid to the profundity of Cole’s philosophy of living.

“After the 2010 World Cup, when he publicly said: ‘I hate England and it’s fucking people,’ we knew it was inappropriate and wrong. But also right, in the sense that Cole was expressing a deeper truth, one we all at some level understood but could not articulate. How can England hope to win the World Cup, with such fucking people?”

“And then Cole proved it by being the only player to play well and still coming home the most despised. The English never understand football, because they are distracted by bullshit. Ashley Cole is never distracted by bullshit.”

“When that student had his hands up begging for mercy, he didn’t listen to any of his bullshit.”

“For a true professional like Cole, you don’t hesitate when you have the chance to shoot.”

True to form, Ashley Cole soon tweeted that Dion Lynch could go fuck himself, and the rest of Ireland with him.

GAA Exorcises Demonic Foreign Influences from Croke Park

Dublin – In a brave but somewhat medieval effort to halt the encroachment of foreign control over Irish life, the great and holy of the GAA gathered last night at midnight in Croke Park to exorcise the demonic influence of foreign sports from the heart of Irish natural culture.

Croke Park, the fourth-largest stadium in Europe, has traditionally been reserved exclusively for Gaelic games, with absolutely no space at all for any of those English sports which are lamentably so popular with the youth.

Satan's soccer-playing minions openly desecrated the holy turf of Croker from 2007-2010.

However, from 2007-2010 the GAA – in a foolish fit of modernity – allowed rugby and soccer to be played in the spiritual cradle of Irishness and things have never been the same since.

“Yea, was it prophesied in 2007 that the introduction of foreign sports into the sacred lands of Ireland would lead to ruin,” said Big Dan Holohan (62), member of the Kilkenny county board and noted GAA hardliner.

“And that when foreign boots did kick unnaturally shaped balls on Ireland’s greenest field, the country would lose its sovereignty and once again become a vassal state.”

“And the people of Ireland would be cast down in darkness, and scattered to the four corners of the Earth, to scrape out a living as illegal construction workers and buskers.”

“Many were those who mocked us, and said we were an organisation living in the past,” said Holohan, looking around at the grave, silent faces. “Who’s living in the past now? Emigration in the hundreds of thousands, the land being ruled by foreigners – if we don’t fuckin’ do this we’ll have famine beatin’ down our doors by next winter!” he thundered.

As midnight struck, the GAA began the exorcism of Croke Park.

The Jeremiads of GAA hardliners in 2007 have proven eerily accurate.

“In nomine patris, de Valera, et Michael Collins,” intoned the Archbishop of Cashel gravely, holding a relic of the true cross over the faint outline of a soccer centre circle while stout GAA hardliners burned peat briquettes atop sharpened pitchforks.

“We invoke the name of our saviours Michael Davitt and the Lord Jesus Christ to cleanse this sacred Irish turf of the iniquitous influence of those damned abominations soccer and rugby.”

“I cast thee out, Satan and all his English sports!” roared the Archbishop suddenly as burning flames leapt to the sky amid ghostly shrieks from the lingering spirits of the English rugby team that lost 43-13 to Ireland at Croke Park.

“And the Devil’s fornicating French with you!” bellowed the Archbishop, lashing at the ghostly echo of Nicolas Anelka scoring a crucial goal against Ireland in the World Cup playoffs in Nov. 2009.

While the spirits howled blasphemously tuneful versions of God Save the Queen, grimly determined men led the heresiarchs Brian O’Driscoll and Robbie Keane onto the field to sacrifice them to the vengeful God of the Old Testament, who made a brief disappearance from Irish Catholicism but is now back with a bad headache and an almighty thirst for blood.

GAA hardliners gather to watch the heretics be consumed in righteous flame.

“Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?” stammered Robbie Keane in terror, as true believers doused him and O’Driscoll in holy petrol.

As the archbishop advanced with the Easter candle from Dublin Cathedral, O’Driscoll began to weep piteously. “I swear I’ll never do it again. I’ll never play foreign sports on the sacred turf of Croker. I repent, O Jesus, I repent!” he yelled.

But the GAA hardliners were immune to the Devil’s insidiously slithering lies and carried the ritual to its conclusion, consuming the unbelievers in the Lord’s righteous GAA flame.

And when the heresiarchs perished, so did the stadium become quiet, and was bathed in gentle moonlight from heaven.

“Well, it was a tough decision, but we had to do it,” said GAA moderate Dennis Fallon (47) as they filed out of the stadium. “Somebody has to do something to save this country, and have you looked at the shower of gobshites running in the election?”

“No,” he said, with a firm shake of the head, “the exorcism of Croke Park was our best bet to save Ireland.”

Gary Neville Announces Retirement From Being a Prick

Manchester – After 19 years of competing at the highest level, this week Gary Neville announced his intention to retire at the top as one of world football’s greatest pricks.

Speaking with MUTV, Neville said: “It’s been a rollercoaster ride with Manchester United and I’ve really enjoyed being the obnoxious face of the world’s most hated club.”

For years Neville has been the obnoxious face of the world's most hated club.

“But there comes a time when even the biggest prick has to admit that he is no longer up for it.”

“I’ve reached a point in my life when I simply want to entertain people and make them happy, as well as work for the common good of all humanity,” added Neville, with a warm smile radiating the milk of human kindness.

Neville has long been reviled by fans across England for not simply being a part of Alex Ferguson’s all-conquering Manchester United pricks but also rubbing it in directly in front of dejected fans’ faces.

In 2006, he famously celebrated a last-minute winning goal against Liverpool directly in front of the Liverpool fans, taunting them with insulting gestures and pelvic thrusts, the like of which had never been seen by Liverpool’s genteel fans before.

In Sep. 2009 he then repeated the trick when Michael Owen scored a last-minute winner against local rivals Manchester City, who were similarly shocked at such ungentlemanly sportsmanship.

Neville said that he now saw the error of his ways and was working to make amends for what he had done in the past.

Neville infamously celebrated being a giant prick directly in front of the Liverppol fans.

“Yes, well, in the heat of battle you’ll do almost anything to be a successful football prick,” admitted Neville regretfully. “But I’d particularly like to make it up to the Scousers.”

“Liverpool used to be a great football city,” said Neville with great sympathy. “But then it got overrun by towel-heads, Pakis, and Wogs, and we all know that they can’t play football for shit.”

“That’s why I’m setting up the Gary Neville Football Academy for White British Boys Only,” explained Neville, with his newfound spiritual calm and enlightened humanity. “I think it will help bring the community together against the world, just like Sir Alex did at Man Utd, which did wonders for our football.”

“All the Scousers have to do is sign up for the official Man Utd fan club, then we’ll give them free of charge a Man Utd shirt that they have to wear at the academy at all times, and we’ll teach them how to play football the Manchester United way,” said Neville, with the serene benevolence of one who is finally working for the good of his fellow man.

In keeping with his newfound image, Neville was quick to pay homage to all those who had helped him get where he is today.

“No young player who wants to be a world-class prick could have a better mentor than Sir Alex Ferguson,” averred Neville passionately. “I always thought I had a natural talent for it, but he showed me ways of being a prick I never dreamt of.”

"Gary has all the makings of a world-class manager prick," said Ferguson proudly.

“I’d really love to follow in his footsteps someday and manage the biggest group of pricks in the world.”

The media have been quick to praise Gary Neville, suddenly discovering that he was “the best English right-back in England for the past twenty years,” despite having given him 6/10 in every game he ever played.

“I never listened to anything they said when I was player, but now that they are delivering glowing eulogies, I can find it in my heart to graciously accept their honest and forthright opinions on my career,” said Neville, as he played with a small bird that had freely perched on his shoulder by clamping its head between his teeth and shoving lit matchsticks up its rectum.

“I’ll obviously miss being a prick to millions on the big stage,” said Neville, tossing the dead bird away. “But I think I might make a good coach in the future.”

Tennis Photographers Groan as Maria Sharapova Exits Australian Open

Melbourne – To the bitterly disappointed groans of professional photographers, Maria Sharapova once again exited a major tournament before the quarterfinal stage yesterday at the Australian Open.

Photographers scramble for one last photo of Maria before she leaves Australia.

“It’s such a shame, really,” said Bryan Wilson (45), a career tennis photographer who follows the circuit photographing Sharapova’s slender legs and willowy body from a variety of angles. “I mean, I’m just such a big tennis fan and I think a player of Maria’s talent deserves to be in the big tournaments all the way to the end.”

“I really feel for her,” he added, rummaging in his pockets for a tissue.

Sharapova has previously won three Grand Slam events, but a shoulder injury in 2008 has seriously hampered her game, meaning that she now struggles to make it to the second week of any major tournament, much to the chagrin of press photographers who are such fans of her tennis technique.

“It’s just the quality of her groundstrokes,” said Shane Vickery (39), a professional tennis photographer for Sports Illustrated. “I am so impressed by the way she plants her long tanned legs in a wide open stance for extra power with her forehand. I just really want to capture that grace and athleticism for sports fans.”

Unfortunately, Sharapova's forehand technique also induces tendonitis in imitators.

“Studying her play has really helped me with my forehand as well,” he said, to general nods of agreement around the table that studying photos of Maria’s technique can really help one’s eye-hand coordination.

“What particularly impresses me is how deeply she bends over when preparing to return serve,” said Kenneth Algernott (61), the doyen of tennis photographers, while the others listened in respectful deference to his wisdom.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but for a tall girl Ms. Sharapova really does bend over most impressively when waiting for her opponent’s serve.”

“It’s a crucial element of one’s tennis technique,” he added by way of explanation. “From a lower perspective one can see right up the alley of the coming serve, observe the point where it comes together and see if there are any cracks in one’s opponent’s game.”

“And she does sway her buttocks from side to side quite impressively, too, to make sure her weight is evenly distributed. I’ve tried to capture this in my photographs, but I can never seem to get it right. Ah, well, I guess I’ll just have to keep trying,” he said with a heavy sigh.

Sharapova burst onto the scene at the tender age of 17 when she won the Wimbledon title in 2004. At the photographers’ table in the press lounge, many old hands warmed at the memory of the 17 year-old blonde bombshell in her tiny white miniskirt.

"This shot really captures Maria's incredible atheleticism," said Algernott appreciatively.

“Well, that was just an amazing two weeks,” said Rob Livery (36). “I’d only just started as a tennis photographer and was wondering how much of a career I could make out of it. Then Maria appeared, and I knew that I could make a really long career out of it.”

“I don’t know as much about tennis as Kenneth or some of the others here,” he said. “So I don’t mind saying that, what really struck me about Maria, was how different she was from the grumpy old lesbians who had previously dominated the sport.”

“She just had such a sunny personality! Her presence is just so infectiously uplifting. Certainly I always experience an uplift whenever I’m in her presence,” he said, looking around at the others who agreed unreservedly that Maria was a charming delight.

“I’ve really tried to capture that aspect of her in my photography, and I think now it comes out best in a full-frontal body shot with her miniskirt billowing around her hips like a flimsy piece of cloth that could simply fly away at any moment,” he said, reviewing some of his favourite pictures of her.

All agreed it was a shame Maria would not be around for the second week of the Open, then suddenly became emotional and dashed off to the toilets for some privacy and tissue paper.

Robbie Keane Stars in Segway’s “Nobody Wants It But Its Brilliant!” Campaign

London – It’s not all bad news for Robbie Keane this week as the want-away Spurs striker has at least found a plush advertising position as the new face of Segway, the motorised scooter that nobody wants even though its brilliant.

Said Keane, “I’m delighted to be associated with such an innovative, successful product and hope to be as good an ambassador for its as Jason McAteer was for Wash & Go.”

Robbie Keane said he was delighted to be working again.

“Making the ads should also help keep me busy over the next few months because I’ve got nothing else to do,” he added.

Robbie Keane is Ireland’s record goal scorer, has scored 121 goals in the Premier League over the course of his career, and only a few short years ago was a firm fan favourite at White Hart Lane.

However, Keane’s career began to go wrong after a disastrous 6-month spell at Liverpool, a club renowned as a place where things go badly wrong. Keane managed to escape back to Tottenham, but unfortunately he brought Liverpool’s luck with him and nothing much has gone right for him since.

Keane has fallen out of favour in recent times and now struggles to get picked as a steward for home games or as the reserve bus driver for away matches.

Keane’s attempts to get a transfer to another club have reportedly stalled as Birmingham City said Robbie was a good player, and an even better bus driver, but not worth the money.

Segway previously tried George W. Bush as a spokesman, but he just kept falling off the damn thing.

“That’s exactly what drew us to Robbie in the first place,” explained Segway’s UK marketing director Donald Suvari enthusiastically at a sparsely attended press conference. “We needed to relaunch the Segway as a brilliant, highly effective forward-thinking creative product that for some reason just hasn’t been able to make a home for itself in our fickle culture.”

“And we needed a face that encapsulated all that, someone who’s a bit down on his luck through no fault of his own. Well, not entirely his own fault,” he added after a moment’s reflection. “Someone whose face screams, ‘Hey, why not give me another chance?’”

The commercial features a despondent Robbie Keane sitting on the bench at Spurs, looking glumly at much faster, fitter players living the Premiership dream. “They said that my pace had gone, that I didn’t have the legs any more,” said Robbie dolefully in a voiceover. “They said I’d had my chance and hadn’t taken it.”

Then suddenly Dutch playmaker Rafael van der Vaart goes down injured and a frustrated Harry Redknapp turns to the bench and picks out Keane, to an exciting upbeat in the music. “But sometimes when what you’ve got to offer is brilliant, you deserve a second chance,” continues the voiceover determinedly.

There then follows a thrilling sequence as Robbie Keane zips around the field on a Segway while the world’s best players futilely give chase. After winning the ball from Lionel Messi by running over his foot, Keane drives around Wayne Rooney at top speed before beating Nemanja Vidic in a race to the ball, running over Iker Casillas and driving the ball home into the net.

As the advertisement is screened at White Hart Lane, Keane enjoys a laugh from his usual position.

“Segway – Nobody Wants It But Its Brilliant!” screams the tagline as Keane and his Segway are carried from the field by his Spurs teammates to be given the Ballon d’Or and the World Cup.

Keane said that even though it was only thirty seconds long, it took an incredible amount of time to make the commercial.

“You wouldn’t believe how hard those things are to drive!” he joked. “I must have fallen off that wagon more times than Tony Adams. In the end, they just got a stuntman to do most of the driving and the rest is done by Bluescreen.”

Segway says it has stocked up on a million units to meet the coming demand. Keane also hopes that the campaign will put him back in the public eye and he might finally get a transfer to a club that will play him.

“I’ll even drive the bus if you let me play,” he pleaded. “I really don’t want to have to ride those things again.”

Emigration Hit GAA Clubs Turn to Alternative Genders, Species

Middleton, Cork – As the recession begins to bite with over 150,000 people expected to emigrate next year, local GAA clubs nationwide are facing a crisis as many of their best players head off to a better life in Canada, Australia, India, Iraq, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Given the alarming shortage of fit young men aged 18-36, many clubs have been forced to turn to some rather unlikely GAA players to fill gaps in the ranks.

On the plus side, massive emigration is making gaelic games very popular in the Middle East.

“The GAA is a very forward thinking organisation,” said Chairman of the Cork County Board Frank Murphy as he hooked a cart up to his aging horse in order to go into town to buy some leeches for his sick wife. “We have always adapted and survived when battered by the winds of change and this current crisis will not find us wanting.”

“You need look no further than Middleton GAA to see the spirit I’m talking about.”

Middleton GAA club has been particularly hard hit in recent months, so much so that the club considered withdrawing from this year’s county championship.

However, at a tempestuous meeting, 8 year-old Gemma Hegarty said that if the ould lads of the village weren’t men enough to tog out and do it for the parish, then the schoolgirls would have to provide the balls needed to get to a county final.

The Middleton team accordingly features eight members of the all-conquering U-8 camogie team.

“Oh, Gemma’s our own Joan of Arc,” said manager Matty Stakelum proudly. “You should have seen her the other day against Ballyvourney. By God, don’t they have the same problems that we have – at least half their team signed up for the French Foreign Legion last month. So who did they have at full-forward only a donkey?”

Gemma Hegarty (back row, third from left) with the other seven girls on the Middleton senior hurling panel.

“Jaysus, when I saw that hoor galloping around I thought we were fucked rightly. With his pace and strength, sure, how could we hope to stop him?”

“But I sent Gemma back full-back to see what she could do, and didn’t she just climb onto his back and start ridin’ him? Then she galloped down the field like Alexander the fuckin’ Great and straight into the opposition goal.”

“Those pensioners in the Ballyvourney midfield just couldn’t keep up with her, even the one with the motorised wheelchair.”

Stakelum shook his head in amazement at the memory. “God, what I remember most about that day was her father standin’ on the sideline, roarin’ away, ‘Go on, Gemma, ride that bollix, ride him like the big fuckin’ Ballyvourney prick he is!’ That kind of close-knit family spirit is the real strength of Middleton GAA.”

Middleton has also been quite energetic in recruiting new players for its Gaelic football team.

“Yeah, we looked fair stuck, all right,” admitted Joe Walsh, manager of the senior football team. “I mean, to play football in a county championship you need big strong athletic lads, someone who can jump in the air and take a catch, then hold off the opposition tacklers long enough to get away a hand pass to a team mate.”

"They're harmless, really, but it's not a good idea to puck them in the ribs," said Stakelum.

“Then, didn’t I have the idea of borrowing a couple of orangutans from Fota Island? Jaysus, those things can jump like a frog getting’ a boot up the hole from a kangaroo. And you can teach them the basic rules of the game pretty quickly with the aid of a few bananas, which is more than you can say for some of the other lads.”

“Of course, there was that incident against Kilmacross,” he added, in the low tone reserved for whispered comments at a funeral. “In fairness, that Kilmacross lad shouldn’t have tried to elbow an orangutan in the ribs while the ref wasn’t looking, but there was no call for that kind of response.”

“And trying to hand pass yer man’s head to his wife afterwards was a bit too much, even by GAA standards.”

Despite some setbacks, Middleton GAA thinks the immediate future is bright. “The country is hard hit by the emigration of its young people, but as long as we have U-8 camogie girls and orangutans, the GAA will survive,” said Matty Stakelum.

“I just don’t know what we’re going when all the girls grow up and emigrate,” he added with a sigh.