Aussie Rules Tennis

Aussie rules tennis is a game for all the family to play, and requires no expensive equipment at all! Instead of tennis balls and racquet, each player just needs a sphincter and some home made methane.

Scoring is exactly the same as for normal tennis (eg. 15 – Love; 30 – Love; 30 – 15 etc.) and is usually played over a single set, due to the arduous and taxing nature of the extreme effort required.

Rules

1. Each point must be detectable by the opponent, or independent witness – this can be by the audible volume or smell of the “shot”.

2. Any fart which has lumps in is classed as a foul shot and does not score.

3. Any player with ‘runs’ is disqualified – that’s Aussie rules cricket.

Playing Tips

• When playing in a crowded restaurant or pub where your opponent may not be able to hear your shot, try to ensure that someone adjacent to you is made aware of the point. Their visual or verbal disgust will ensure that the point is ‘detectable’ and consequently scores.
• Playing in a swimming pool or bath adds a visual aspect to point scoring with the bubbles produced.
• It is possible to ‘ace’ a game by careful arse control; noisily squeezing a series of individual points from a single large bowel-full of gas. (This technique is a must for any serious competition).
• Preparation for a match is a personal thing. For myself, I find that curry for lunch followed by curry for tea is good preparation for an early evening kick-off, but I know of other players who swear by dried dates or roast beef.

The top prize in Aussie Rules Tennis is the ‘Golden Ring’ trophy, (affectionately known as the ‘rusty bullet hole’). It is won by beating all-comers at infrequent family get-togethers.

Ade Fell
New Zealand Welterweight Aussie Rules Tennis Champion 2006-7

Gus' cookery column

Ohm___ ohm____ ohm____ ohm_____

Hi Gus here, I've just returned from another trip of seven weeks in Tibet and I have to say I really think I connected with the oneness of the himalayan wilderness on this occasion. The magnificence and sheer nature of it all makes one feel small and utterly in awe. But also connected to the whole world and all living things.

Whilst in the mountains with my valient sherpa 'Pete Tong', I researched the most fabulous traditional recipes which I have modified, turned on their heads, added a sprinkle of my own 'Gus magic', a touch of Yak's milk and a dash of offal. And I am proud to bring to you now, my own version of an old tibetan favorite dish.

The first stage in the preparation of this tasty dish is perhaps the trickiest, the task of getting fresh offal. Now, in the himalayas I was using Llama's guts and entrails, Yaks' gizzards and rat's brains and spleens. But here in the north of Scotland I have found that Icelandic ponies make a very tasty substitute and can supply all of the above ingredients or at least an approximation of them.

The easiest way to hunt the ingredients is to coax them over with polo mints or an apple. For this dish I decided Saraday looked like the one with the leanest meat. So I wandered over to the field all casual like, and called the horse over towards me. Once these ingredients were in range I shot it with my air rifle. Unfortunatley I had misjudged the calibre of weapon required for a clean kill and only succeeded in enraging the poor animal. I have to confess that for me, this is easily one of the hardest parts to this particular recipe, I have a huge respect for these animals.

Anyway, Saraday reared up in the air kicking his forelegs and snorting in anger. So, feeling unsure what to do next I picked up a sizeable rock and chucked it at the frenzied animal, which bounced hard off its ribcage. Unfortunately this also failed to kill the beast and if possible only served to make it even angrier. After shooting it another couple of times with the air rifle I reluctantly decided that plan B was called for. Heading back into the kitchen I found some cheddar and made a delicious cheese on toast.

'The Binkey'

Hey big yins I haven abandoned ye. Here a am... only using a different name, from noo oan I wish to be known as 'the binkey' which is a glaswegian pronounciation of bigyin. By the way man, I'm glad someone else has admitted to putting aftershave on their nads, I thought I was the only wan.

Anywayz I just wanted to share this wi yeez, a've discovered that ear wax disnae taste that bad once you've become accustomed tae it. Just thought I'd mention it, its pure nice. Give it a go I promise ye ye'll like it.

Oh oh before I forget, I've thought of new names for my undies... 'budgie smuggler' and 'bannana hammock'.

We'll I'll see you later big yins,

Aaron, a.k.a. 'The Binkey'

Ade's 5 Point Valentines Lurve Plan

Hi guys. Bit late with this entry but I've just finished practising what I'm about to preach so I can guarantee 100% that it will work.

1) Send your wife or significant other off on a romantic trip half way round the world. I packed the lovely Maria off to Spain for a couple of weeks.

2) As modern women really dig computerized communication, shower her with e-mails, internet chats and Skype calls. I find work a good topic to chat about. Remember to chuck in an occasional, 'I miss you'. That'll melt her heart good and proper.

3) As the special day approaches it is important to think ahead and meticulously plan her special treat. If you don't already have some in the house, my advice is to buy in some lager, cider and aftershave. The lager and cider mixed together make a fantastic valentines day cocktail.

4) Arrange a time for a Skype call on the big day and make sure you both have webcams. My plan went like clockwork, Valentines day morning for Maria was early evening for me in New Zealand. This gave me plenty of time to drink several 'Snake-Bites' in preparation for the final part of my plan.

5) Get nude! Skype the wife and waggle your bits in front of the webcam. This will send her into a frenzy. Now for the icing on the cake... get your aftershave and pour a generous glug on to your balls! Let's face it guys, we all do this, it's just no one admits to it. Anyway it may sting like hell but she'll never doubt your love for her ever again.

Et voila, a perfect valentines day for your special lady. I'm off to my bed now as the computer screen and room seem to be spinning. Sheee yees aal later, hic... burp...

Ade x

Standing Stones Shocker

No one would have believed in the first years of the twenty first century, that a blue boiler suit wearing neepie docker would be sought by police in connection with causing reckless human evolution. Few men even considered the possibility of intelligent life in Lypster, but slowly, and surely the story unfurled before us.

Occasionally mild mannered enthusiastic beard scratcher and raging stone lover David McCoy (73) of Porkside, Lypster is on the run tonight. The public is advised not to approach him as he may be armed with pockets full of sharp pointy gravel.

For the last few years, at the taxpayers expense, David has been placing standing stones in prominent places around Caithness. Overall feedback has been positive as it has been seen as a bringing together of the counties ancient and modern traditions. However, as is often the case with beardy weirdys, things have taken a sinister turn.

Early on Monday morning the fuzz were alerted to a disturbance in the centre of Lypster. The towns folk were leaping around David's stone erection screeching, bellowing and beating their chests. One by one the neepies dared to touch the stone and stare in wonder at the sun and moon in perfect alignment above. Eventually, bored with having to monitor the situation, tear gas and rubber bullets were deployed by the coppers and the crowd cleared off.

Thoughts that this may be merely a coincidence were dashed when almost identical reports from neighbouring villages harbouring David's erections started to flood in. And that wasn't the last of it! The next day the towns folk woke up with thumbs, after hundreds of thousands of years without opposable digits the neepie dockers had sensationally made the evolutionary jump. Use of tools, arse pinching and other thumb dependant behaviour abounded.

For the neepies of Caithness it was a glorious new dawn but for the councils, a devastating end to a golden period. They were inundated with demands for houses, clothes, housing benefits, white goods, dole money, sky tv and human rights. This equated to a near doubling of the county's population and a 110% rise in benefit claims over night, how could the already over stretched budgets cope?

The Lypster police chief was unavailable for questioning but read a pre-prepared statement, “We will do all we can to catch this witch or wizard or whatever he is and burn him at the stake. Hopefully things will then return to normal”.

Any sightings should be reported to your local cop shop or to ie Churnal at the usual address.

An announcement from our leader

Haroo churnal ulpster readersh, you're ma fu'in besht friends. Glory glory Man United, glory glory man utd. What are you lookin at mishter? Wanna pices of thishh? haaa thought not ya baast. Yeah you! Four nil four nil four nil. Four nil four nil four nil.

(hiccup)

Ie' Upster fugin churnal is now sproud sponsher of Manchester United and we are all lickle tiny winy red devils. Chealshe is the proud shpawn of satan. So there.


Yaaaaahr


Tony

Seamus's Apple Report

Well I have to say that this week has been a bit of a washout. The Apple lady has not been near me once and I heard someone say she was in Fluenza, wherever that is. I bet she's on holiday in Spain, it sounds foreign. She better not be giving my apples to them Spanish ponies, Lipz-whatsits!

The apple report therefore is a big fat zero, I've had to content myself with games of bite the toy pony and nip the goat. It's a poor substitute I have to say. I'll see if I can persuade the Apple lady to take a photo of the toy pony

Neighh

Newsflash

Pupils at a school near Uplster were astonished this week to witness first hand one of their teachers near-death experience.

Mrs Sprite had agreed to invigilate an exam, totally unaware of what fate had in store for her. Several pupils were of the opinion that the incident was just an unfortunate accident, while the silent majority thought it may have been a prank which got out of hand. Mrs Sprite however agreed that the collapse of her chair in the examination hall was an accident and insisted it was nothing at all to do with the stress the chair suffered.

When asked about her injuries, Mrs Sprite replied, "Why man, ah could'a been killed! As it happens I got off quite canny, ah bit me tongue like, and nearly drew blood, and I hurt me coccyx, but worst of all, I severely bruised me ego!"