Doris’s Digest #8: The Solitary Sin That Ruins Young Lives

image They are all up to it these days. Teenagers, and even younger than that. It’s a wonder that some of them don’t go blind, they do that much of it. Some of them seem to spend every waking moment at it. Their parents don’t seem to mind, in fact they ruddy well encourage it. They send them up to do it in their bedrooms, so that they aren’t getting under everyone else’s feet downstairs. It makes them tired and listless at school the next day. It makes it difficult for them to concentrate on anything else. It saps their energy. It depletes their imagination. It ought to be ruddy well outlawed, or at least something done to prevent them doing it too much. Watching television is a disgrace.
Well, alright. It’s ok in moderation. But what with all the channels they get these days, and broadcasting all hours, not to mention DVDs and digital recorders and internet catch up and whatever else they dream of. The kids of today don’t seem able to watch it in moderation. They just don’t know when, or even how to stop.
They have these new fangled earphones by Doctor Doom an’all these days, so you don’t even know when they are doing it. The Fantastic Four should have finished him off when they had the chance, but ohh no. Too busy trying to find a cure for Ben Grimm, and now we are losing generation after ruddy generation to the one eyed god in the corner.
I wouldn’t even mind if people watched it together, at least they could hold a conversation about it afterwards. But they don’t even do that any more. There’s one in every room now, and everyone watches what they like when they like, filling their heads full of ruddy rubbish like the “A Team” and “Come Dine in a House Like This.” Half the kiddies these days have watched more programmes about hot dinners than they have had hot dinners, because their ruddy parents are too glued to the box to cook them anything. You can’t expect kiddies to grow big and strong on crisp sandwiches, even if they are cheese and onion. Cheese and onion crisps aren’t going to count towards their ruddy five a day, are they?
When I was a lass, television hadn’t even been invented, and it didn’t do me any harm. We used to cut out pictures from magazines and do plays with them in our little toy theatres. You needed a bit of imagination to do that sort of thing. The kids today have it all on a plate. Spoon fed, they are. Straight from the ruddy satellite dish.
And even in the prisons. A colour television in every cell! You wouldn’t catch me on the telly for all the tea in tescos, not with all convicted murderers and child molesters slobbering all over me. In colour an’all. It takes the ruddy biscuit that does, twists it in half, licks the cream out of the middle, and throws the dry bits in the bin.

Doris’s Digest #2 – Piss: Nature’s Miracle Cure

piss In this modern age we are constantly being assailed by dangers to our health from all sides. Pollution, Genetically Modified foods, passive smoking, fracking, rays from space, the ruddy lot! But according to Professor Nigel Fromage of the Department of Micturation at the University of East Anglia, Michigan, USA, the solution to all our troubles may lie in the contents of our bladders!
Contrary to popular belief, Fromage contests that wee, pittle, or to give it its medical name, “piss,” is not simply a waste product which we expel after extracting all the goodness out of the things that we drink, but a special medicine, tailor made in the laboratory of our body, to keep us at the peak of health and efficiency.
Fromage, speaking from the comfort of his modern air conditioned lavatory, claims that the secret is to catch the first piss of the day in a large glass or tumbler, and get it straight down your neck whilst it is still warm. “If you let it go cold” he says, “the friendly bacteria will die before it has time to perform its magic.”
It appears to have worked for him. He looks a picture of health, and it is hard to believe that he is fifty three years old and has recently recovered from an operation to remove a malignant tuna from his sarcophagus.
Apparently, in cave man days, before tea and coffee were invented, they used to drink piss all the time, and they quite literally thrived on it.
“You had to be healthy in those days” says Fromage, “ What with all those dinosaurs chasing you around. If you weren’t in tip top condition you would have quickly ended up as a snack for a T Rex. The way that early man kept in tip top condition was by drinking his own piss. Every day!”
Professor Fromage is no stranger to controversy. In 1998 he hit the headlines when seventeen of his students were rushed to hospital after volunteering to take part in an experiment designed to test out the health benefits of eating your own shite.
“I can understand why people might have got into a bit of a tizzy about that one” Fromage concedes, “However these things need looking into. I had carried out preliminary experiments on myself and results were looking good, but unfortunately I had to discontinue them due to developing fistulas in my stomach lining.”
Fromage is sure that he is onto a winner with his more recent work though, and believes that if he can persuade the general population to favour piss over more traditional breakfast beverages, such as orange juice, grapefruit juice, tea or coffee, life expectancy will rise to around 120 years and hospitals will be all but consigned to the dustbin of history.
However, his critics think the same as me: That he is a filthy so and so who hasn’t got the brains he was born with. Anyone who decides to drink their own pittle can’t be quite right in the head, can they?