RH Occasionally 05

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Yours grovellingly, The Writers Matt D (Editor), Will, Matt L, Seb, Tom R, Rob, Alex S, Chris, Alex E, Holly, Kate, Dr “Mad” Olly, Matt J, Jon, Joe, Tom A… and George Dear Readers, The number 5 means so many different things to so many different people. To some, it brings memories of the pop band after whom the number was named, made infamous by their ill-advised rebranding as “women”. To some, it means “one more than four”. To many more, it means “two more than four and a little less than a pigeon”. Talking of pigeons, in China the number 5 is so feared that any woman raising five children is tied to a panda and stoned to death by “Miss Asia”. In the remote tribelands of Western Germany, it has long been a tradition to cut off the heads of the poorest citizens on the fifth day of each month. Fortunately, we at the “Occasionally” abandoned such practises in February, and can greet the printing of Issue 5 with something lying between excitement and a stubborn commitment to ignoring laws regarding slander. It is something of a landmark for a publication which could have been drowned at birth for being, as Prof. Peter “Pied-Piper” Avery so succinctly phrased it, “a half-baked, half-human scrap of worthless fornicating rat-scraping squalor not fit for the eyes of me or my eighty gold-encrusted servants”. We hope you enjoy this issue more than our last, pathetic efforts. A poll conducted in Hark! last month revealed that racism and Buddhism are “in vogue” at the moment, so look out for a lot more of that in Issue 6. Cardiff – Pg 10 Oxford – Pg 10 The “Occasionally” is now on the World Wide Internets for your viewing pleasure. Go to Tom R’s home page, and click on the RHO link! Do it now, computer nerd! You know who you are. Rob.

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Bryony Q, Chard After reading Issue 4 of the RHO I decided that life is better if you don’t live in Chard. Therefore I’m free for adoption now and want to publicise this in the RHO. Is this possible? No! You’re disgusting! Go and dig yourself a hole and live in it! Alex S, Yeovil Matt D! You are disgusting. I hate you and want to see the whole magazine, the writers and especially Matt D prosecuted. Unfortunately this is not possible as we have used fake IDs. But we are willing to turn in Matt D if you send us a nude picture of yourself with a live animal. What’s the most amusing comment a teacher has ever left on your work? Matt D’s most memorable is from Gavin Smith, formerly of the English Department: “I suggest that this chapter rather than the next one is used [as coursework]: & I’d advize (sic) cutting down the references to child abuse.” Send in your favourites on a postcard to: Jean N, Weymouth Matt L, is it true that you once met the Pope and John Lennon and Elvis Presley and J F Kennedy and Spiderman and got their autographs on your bald head but your hair grew back badly and now you can’t show them to anybody? Is it also true that you’re a lesbian? Matt L was not available for comment. We can safely assume and publicise, therefore, that all of the above are true. Also, Matt L licks mice. Gavin S, Asia I don’t know who it is, but someone at the otherwise brilliant “Occasionally” seems to have something against dolphins. Please tell me who it is so I can bust their *ss. Well, Gavin, it appears that the joke’s on you, because we ALL hate dolphins! Even fish-loving Will. Send your letters to

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Boys seem to be terrified of periods. From my understanding, they are too scared to ask girls about them (in case we rip their heads off and drink their blood). So I thought I’d set the record straight. First I’ll do the scientific bit. A period, although made out to be something to do with the womb lining dropping off and coming out of you (in a really disgusting, horrible way), is actually the process of giving birth to several microscopic robot pigeons, which then tunnel their way underground to their secret layer, where they continue in their evil plot to TAKE OVER THE WORLD. There’s not much to tell about what actually happens. Blood comes out. You can tell it’s going to, because your body kind of changes. Like you [start to] hate all men. And you don’t mind killing people for fun. And there’s a horrible, numbing pain that overpowers your body so you have to fill yourself with drugs and sit in a corner, gently rocking, with a hot water bottle pressed against your stomach. Also, if you want to know the truth, your breasts get pretty tender and it hurts if people hit them, which only occurs when you happen to be on your period, ironically. This goes on for about five to seven days. It’s fun; I recommend it to everyone. So, I did some research, and found the only thing that guys really want to know is…why do girls feel the need to talk about their periods??? Or write about them for that matter. And that’s my cue to shut up. By Holly “It goes on for about five to seven days. It’s fun; I recommend it to everyone” Top scientists working in a research facility south of Switzerland have recently made a shocking scientific discovery of absolute shockingness. The scientists have been researching the effects of prolonged life on thirty volunteers in secret for the past 60 years. The research has recently come to an abrupt halt, as a top class scientist who shall remain nameless for legal reasons will now explain. “60 years ago a group of scientists started researching the effects of prolonged life on the human body; they compiled a group of thirty slaves volunteers and began their “harmless” tests. The “volunteers” were subjected to the utmost extremes in, well, everything: height, gravity, consumption of chocolate; you name it, they ate it.” The research was going well until a particularly hairy bunch of hippies invented the concept of “human rights”. Suddenly, keeping humans as pets was “immoral”; apparently it’s cruel to keep thirty “volunteers” caged like animals, conducting scientific experiments on them against their will. So the scientists did what any other scientists would do in their position; they lied about it. They assured protesting hippies that the humans asked to be tested on and that the hippies should all piss off and leave them alone. So, the research continued up until late last year when the scientists finally came up with the answer… “Prolonged life on humans will end in certain death.” Some say that thirty innocent lives were wasted to discover something that everyone already knew, and that quite frankly these “scientists” should be arrested and imprisoned. However the scientists in question then did what any other scientist would do; they pissed off somewhere and had a party! By Will Deputy Editor “Thirty innocent lives were wasted to discover something that everyone already knew”

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The Period is often thought of as a myth, something to scare young children; yet the horror of it is very much real. In the 7-volume book by Bowel, entitled “Bowel’s Definition of The Period”, he states that a period is: “A large blue flesh-eating amphibian (that is to say, it eats blue flesh, rather than it is blue and eats flesh, as that would just be plain silly)… which is uncommon in this country and more often found in less developed countries, particularly those with poorly functioning sewage systems, such as Kent ... It normally habituates in sewers, prisons, and somewhat perplexingly in Barbie Lunchboxes… The Period is very very very… very scary, I don’t like it one bit.” Bowel’s definition has been taken as the standard definition of the Period from the early 1600s BC. Let us not forget Plato’s famous philosophical assertion “Annum dec Alora ades” which has traditionally been taken to mean “Lest no man of stout heart feel that he, though he knoweth nothing else in this world, know this: periods are big and scary and they’re going to get you”. However, I feel it my duty to begrudgingly disclose that certain critics would coagulate that no one man has ever captured nor even seen a period, concordantly not actually proving existence of said period. As this sort of plunges this entire article into insignificance, I shall attack those critics credibility, thus: They all wank badgers. By Rob “periods are big and scary and they’re going to get you” Hark! Magazines are looking for young and “naïve” volunteers to take part in several “semi-legal” experiments involving a Norwegian prisoner. To inquire further, contact us at RHoccasionally@hotmail.co.uk. What is a nutter? Usually one would class a nutter as someone who wears solely denim. It’s not that I have a problem with denim, on the contrary I wear jeans everyday of my life, it’s a wonderfully versatile fabric. However there is a point when dressing where one should look in the mirror and say, “I’m wearing too much denim”. You see them walking around town, they’re the ones who always do those bloody questionnaires, as the people who run the questionnaires are even further down the social ladder then they are. All they wear is denim! That’s it, not just a pair of jeans - just denim! Denim jacket, denim shirt, denim jeans, and probably even denim socks! One time, I actually saw someone wearing a denim hat! It looks as though you entire body has been urinated on by a very annoyed smurf, who has unfortunately all but missed your face. So there you have it. Next time you see someone wearing solely denim, karate-kick them in the face for me, then go urinate on a smurf. Lets see how they like it! By Will Deputy Editor A selection of essays written by members of the Richard Huish Occasionally will be available to buy some time before Christmas, in an effort to become the most popular book of all time. So watch out, Bible!

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Alas, summer is over! Days upon days of a lifeless existence have finally ended; my old T.V schedule of gripping daytime television has been abandoned as my eyes finally adjust to what these humans call “natural light”. My bed sores gradually heal and my white pasty skin returns to a fresh pink. I feel that after seven weeks living strictly on a diet of crisps and antiques programmes that I can safely say “I’m glad summer is over”; I can’t take another soul shattering episode of “Bargain hunt” or, god forbid, the mindless dribble that is called Neighbours - a program so dull that you actually have to be asleep to watch it, and whilst watching it you feel tired. I don’t think I could stomach 30 agonising minutes of “Trading Up”, a program where “hip” young couples decide whether or not to move from their foetid little house to another house just as bad - but with a water feature. There were days when I would actually watch Channel 5. CHANNEL 5! And the worst thing is I’d enjoy it! I’d actually salivate at the prospect of sitting through three hours of Britain’s funniest comedy moment, even though I new The Office would win… I knew! Yet still I watched. I realised what summer was doing to me when I was sitting down to watch… brace yourself… “100 greatest ITV programs”. I got up out of my body shaped chair, dragged myself by my salt stained pasty fingers upstairs to the bathroom, filled the sink with cold water… and drowned myself. By Will Deputy Editor “Thank God summer is over” H.G Wells would be turning in his grave to see this 2005 remake of his classic literary work “War of the Worlds”, a story in which earth is invaded and conquered by fighting machines from Mars. I must stress my disgust at this American crap-fest: why must Steven Spielberg portray this to be a story set in America when Wells clearly states that it was set in Victorian Britain? And why must it be set in the modern day? The story suffers greatly because of the superciliousness of the Yank nation - why is it that Americans think they did everything? Wells was bloody BRITISH!!! It is a disgrace to our nation that such a prolific classic has been perverted by the vulturous Americans - whose fault is it that they cannot come up with anything original? As we progress through the 21st Century it is becoming more and more apparent that Americans have no ideas of their own. All we have to do is look at modern cinema to see that this is true. Sure, we have been presented with Spiderman and all manner of American super hero, but am I alone in thinking that marvel comics is getting very, very dull? Another thing that annoys me about this so-called “Blockbuster” is that the story suffers from extreme divergence from the original text. And why, oh why, was Tom Cruise picked to play the lead role? Everyone should read the book rather than watch the film. Americans are destroying or seriously inhibiting the education of our children. Together, my friends, we must stop such cinematic atrocities and bring literacy back to the children of Britain. I say “Grab a gun and follow me to Hollywood!” The time to act is now if we want to preserve the miracle of film for the next generation…Let’s kill us some yanks! YEEEHAWWW! Why the film version of War of the Worlds is shite By Jon Performing Arts Correspondent Of the week Will Young is a practicing Homosexual

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After the evolution of the British Man (or human-like organic creature for that matter) in the early 1950s, breakfasts have become a habit which Britain never quite recovered from. In fact their evolution was severely hampered, as the first thing the British invented was the much feared “Full English Breakfast” (FEB). In the course of this tragic event British Evolution stopped after 45 minutes (about enough time to consume a FEB) and it is now widely believed by many scientists that it indeed is reversing itself. For decades the British relentlessly tried to persuade people that indeed this calamity only arose because of a European conspiracy which led to the invention of FEB, but by now it has been revealed by Matt L, a leading British Food consumer, that “the extraordinary damage was self-inflicted”. And indeed if you look at the contents of an FEB you will see why. It contains countless slices of fatty bacon, sausages and the mercilessly slaughtered and in numerous ways cooked offspring of chicken (scientifically known as: “scrambled egg”). This alone should stop you from eating ever again. But unfortunately the British are quite tough in accepting inedible food. A leading FEB institute states this: “A typical FEB consists of fried/scrambled eggs and bacon rashers, served with mushrooms, tomatoes, sausages, kidneys and fried bread. This list is extendable.” After analysing the chemical implications of such a meal the EU now has rated the FEB as “hazardous”, as it causes severe health conditions. European Food Advisors (EFA), such as me, are now trying to convince the suffering British population to turn away from the lethal FEBs and try healthier breakfasts instead. “This will be a lifelong mission.” By Tom R German Director Prof. “Suck This” Pilate: “Yes” By Matt D Editor Professor Blither Pilate first came to national attention following his outspoken campaign to have the Archbishop of Canterbury burned at the stake – in his own words, to “see if God really exists”. He later gained international recognition for his controversial experiments on orphaned disabled black single-mother chimpanzees, who were later found to be homosexual. Now, the Occasionally can exclusively reveal, Pilate is to present to the scientific community the results of his latest research, which he promises will “just blow your mind”. The basic principle behind his latest attempt to regain credibility is that cigarettes, or “glo-sticks”, are actually beneficial to human health. “Simply,” he told us in an unprecedented interview, “my team and I forced small animals – kittens, puppies, tadpoles – to smoke cigarettes every day for the first, and ironically last, three months and four days of their lives. “The first ones to go were the tadpoles. Our research department, Dave, thinks that this is because they need water to live. We’re still looking into that. But humans aren’t much like tadpoles, so we’re not worried. “At the end of the day, puppies and kittens only live for a few weeks naturally, and the extension to their lives was obviously a benefit gained from smoking cigarettes. It’s science – you wouldn’t understand.”

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I’ve been calling St Lucia the Best Place in the World for some time now. But, as with every poverty-stricken, semi-developing, uneducated, overpopulated, environmentally damaged Paradise Island, it has some underlying problems. For example, the poverty, the under-development, the lack of education, the overpopulation and the damaged environment. But apart from these minor defects, it’s just great. It’s probably St Lucia’s fault that it’s such a cesspit. If it had just stayed part of our empire, it wouldn’t have any problems. Because we could all move out to the Caribbean and live in mansions by the sea, with banana plantations (excluding slaves, as this is now ‘politically incorrect’), and all the St Lucians could come over to Britain and give a bit more life to the drug trade over here. Like most Caribbean islands, St Lucia does have a pretty strong drug culture. But it’s ok; the dealers loitering around my hotel were friendly. They were gangsters, or tried to be. I think they all wanted to be American. Which is horrific. That, I guess, makes them bad people. Because America sucks. Actually, I don’t think it’s America’s fault, it’s just George Bush. He is a dick. And if I had the chance, I sure would like to stamp on his face. In a nice way. The positives outweigh the negatives, because it is a Paradise Island; the white sand beaches (well, kind of grey sand, because it’s a volcanic island) are lined with palm trees, and its magnificent mountains crawl with life, covered in tropical rainforests. The island itself is completely breathtaking. There’s even the world’s only walk-in-volcano, like drive-thrus, but instead of picking up a burger, you get a puddle of molten rock. In conclusion, St Lucia is still the Best Place in the World, and all the poverty and unemployment and gun crime just give the island some extra spice, which in sorely needed in a country where a pool of lava is their idea of a Big Mac with fries. By Holly “It’s probably St Lucia’s fault that it’s such a cesspit” Are you bored of everyday life? Do you want to get out of the house and just forget about everything except having fun? Have you ever thought of trying an adventure holiday? If you have then read on; if not then you are wasting your time - go and read the Financial Times or something! Extreme Adventure Inc (based in Bradford) offers the most invigorating adventure experiences the world has to offer. We have connections all over the world and can cater for your exact needs; whatever you want to do we will sort it out. Over the years we have constructed many different adventure packages for many different people and have never had one dissatisfied customer. OK, we wont pretend that we have had no fatalities on our holidays but we will do our utmost to protect you and your family. In each area we have experts to look after you and guide you so that you wont succumb to the potentially lethal danger you may face. We also offer a range of “Assassination” holidays in which you get to hunt your least favourite celebrity across the globe and then slaughter them like an animal. This is especially popular with family groups because they have to work together as a team to achieve their ultimate goal. Don’t worry if you don’t have the equipment or the training to assassinate somebody, it will all be provided by us completely free. So if you are a family who share a mutual hatred of Graham Norton or any celebrity and would like to see them die in a painful fashion or inflict as much suffering on them as possible then this is the holiday for you! All of our accommodation is half board and in beautiful settings with immaculate rooms. When you’re in the great outdoors we believe that you need good accommodation - you can’t be expected to be a ruthless killer on our “Assassination” holidays if you’re not well fed and rested!! We must stress however that when you are abroad you always carry a weapon as foreigners cannot be trusted so do not talk to them. I hope that this article has whet your appetite for mindless killing and if you would like to learn more about our holidays please contact the RHO and or the editor and before I finish I must remind you that if this article is reported to the Police then you are the one who will be hunted. By Jon Performing Arts Correspondent

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By Tom R German Director “Dead” If there’s one issue that truly separates the writers of the Richard Huish Occasionally, it is either Bobby “Sweet-Cheeks” Davro’s latest haircut, the Royal Family or whether or not we should let Will out of his cage once in a while to use the “lavatory”. On the latter matter (snort), there would be far greater strength of opinion if Will was conscious. But he’s not. One person who feels strongly that the Royal Family is an outdated piece of Corporate slosh is Krabs McBlowy, the Frankish Tyrant pictured here on the left. He told the “Occasionally” that he wanted to “kill all the motherf**king f**k w**ks in the whole f**king w**king b**lucking country”, and he sounded like he meant it. Here, I argue with Tom R about this contentious issue. It shall be forever unknown why the Royal family was invented in the first place. In the great book of “Bad ideas, inventions and even worse ideas” it was rated as the 2nd worst invention ever only to be topped by the creation of Bridgwater which was probably the worst idea ever. Shortly after publication though in 1583 the author was arrested and imprisoned and has by now suffered extensive physical decay. Unfortunately this led to the fact that he wasn’t available for any interviews and the debate was forgotten for a long time. Now in the 21st century, after a copy of this book had been found in a ditch near Hemel Hempstead modern society once again starts to wage war against the royal family. But why? Well there are a few simple reasons: The Royal family is largely responsible for their own reproduction (64.1 %) - 35.9 % of it was produced by mistake when a Petri dish was mistaken while cloning famous sheep “Dolly” in 1996. George C used to be a member of the Royal family (he was their gardener before the great Garden crisis in 1995 which killed up to 3,486 plants). Since the entire Royal family is Scottish they failed to extend their Visas in 2005 causing the Home Office to remove them from the country by the end of the year. They were offered a permanent home in Zimbabwe (maybe not that permanent). After having read this article the organisation “Grumpy Old People” decided to throw 6,932 dentures at every available member of the Royal family. This led to the widespread belief that above article is true and not “shit compressed in 250 words” and also to a massive shortage of false teeth. By Matt D Editor I first made notes on the Royal Family or this article when drunk in a brothel in Yeovil. This is what I had: “Whatever, Tom, your a f*cking GERMAN and no one gives a”. Pressed to improve upon this essay, I returned to the ever-trusty Mystic Meg to research my column. My findings may be considered shocking by some; particularly those who like their news stories to be true and ethical. Falling into a dark trance after inhaling mysterious white powder, Meg uttered many, terribly prophetic words: “One day, some idiot – possibly a German, possibly named Tom – will suggest abandoning the Royal Family. This idiot must not be listened to. He is a worshipper of dark Moon-Gods, not our real god – The Queen. All hail the Queen of England.” Meg’s point is a valid one: should the 81 million millionaires currently living in Britain ever cease to worship the Queen, it is an inevitability that they would start to worship other, pagan gods. The pagan gods may then take human form as either Muslims, Hindus or Homosexuals (source: evangelical Bible-basher, Taunton), sweeping the country with their evil ways. They would turn to the Freemasons, the Mormons, and the National Scuba-Diving Institute of America (formerly the US Nazi Party). Our children would not be safe, and neither would their gold-encrusted limos. And what is worth protecting, if our limos are not? In conclusion, I refuse obstinately to accept that the Royal Family are paedophiles, and will continue to refute this accusation until their pet chimp, Bubbles, submits evidence under torture to prove matters otherwise.

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Busses. We all use them, we all love them; it’s true. You ask any regular bus traveller what they enjoyed most: the first sight of their newborn child as it enters this world or the 9.20 to Wellington finally rounding the corner at 10.50. Most, it saddens me to say, will answer the latter. You see busses are like fast-food - everyone tells you that it’s bad for you and a waste of the government’s money, and there are healthy safer alternatives but yet you still secretly do it, and boy do you enjoy it! Ok, busses aren’t quite like fast food in the sense that you can’t order them from restaurants, they don’t make you fat and dead, and personally I wouldn’t want a piece of public transport between two soggy bits of bread; and believe me they don’t go well with fries either. So what exactly is it that attracts us to busses? The drivers? Unfortunately the answer to that question is a big, fat, undercooked no. You see it’s very difficult to describe the bus drivers I’ve seen without using the words: hideous, gelatinous and Polish. I’m in no way stating that these are undesirable qualities in a human being; only that it is sometimes preferable for a bus driver to have a simple grasp of the English language. I found this out when I was slightly late for college one day; I was huddled in a blanket sitting slightly bewildered in a Polish buss shelter. That’s Poland NOT Poundland. So, after a short walk of a few thousand miles I was back safe and sound! So if it’s not the drivers that attract the public to busses, what is it? Certainly not hygiene! With the busses I travel on you are considered “lucky” if by the end of the journey you haven’t contracted TB and you don’t have several used syringes sticking out of your arse. One experience that unfortunately I wont forget for a few years happened the other day on a particularly “clean” bus. All was going well; I had managed to get to my seat without being stabbed and or eaten, so I sat myself down with a smug look on my face. And there it is, looking right at me… someone had actually stapled a condom to the back of a seat! The thing that shocked me most wasn’t the condom itself, which I pray to God hadn’t been used, but the fact that someone actually took the time to staple a condom to a seat. Some hilarious young child must have been sitting at home banging his head against a wall, when it occurred to him that the best thing do right now would be to get on a bus and staple a condom to a seat. So there we go. Unfortunately I lied to you - people don’t love busses; they never have, and as long as there are condoms stapled to the seats, never will. By Will Deputy Editor This doesn’t look like a word - Editor You can enter: e-mail RHoccasionally@hotmail.co.ukThe winner will be revealed Next Week (or whenever).

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For anyone who ever doubted the courage and dedication of the staff of the “Occasionally”, herein lies a tale of absolute, er, courage and dedication. It all started when I said to Alex: “Wanna go to Cardiff?”. “Yes,” he replied. Will overheard, and it seemed polite to bring him along. Our first impression of Wales was a muffled yelp as our ears popped violently as our train left the Severn Tunnel. Our first impression of Cardiff itself was, well, not a huge amount better. Upon leaving Cardiff Station, we were confronted with the entertainment of two dogs killing each other, to the delight of an audience of three tramps. Things did get better. It was an eventful trip. We visited a Love-Spoon shop. We encountered a busking dwarf singing “Delilah” too loudly in the High Street. We abused the generosity of Christians handing out biscuits in the streets. We somehow found ourselves in the VIP lounge of the Millennium Stadium, alongside several World-Class Rally Championship Drivers. We stormed the gates of Cardiff Castle. Eventually, we found the university itself. We joined an open-day tour-group, but joined another one when we realised we were walking in the wrong direction. When we finally reached a building, we were stopped whilst entering it by armed security guards. Apparently it was the “Welsh Assembly” or something. Eventually we found our way into the Student Union, where, by following a long trail of cryptic arrows posted on walls, we arrived at the beginning of an introductory lecture. And the lecturer wasn’t even Welsh. Here’s a point: If you want to read lots of Welsh signs, and laugh at their word for Lift (lifft), then go to Cardiff. But don’t expect to hear anyone actually speaking the language. They’re all English. In conclusion, Cardiff is probably the best place in the world for an adventure. We even lost Will in a local game of “Knife-Ring”. But the important thing is that Cardiff University is just plain better than anywhere else. By Matt D Editor A full account of the “Cardiff Adventure” by Matt D, Will and Alex E will be included in the Occasionally Essays, which will be available at Christmas-time. Well. What can I say? I mean, come on. OXFORD. THE Oxford. It’s shit. Go to Cardiff.

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Will designs a time machine, or “watch”! Alex S spends 40 days and 40 nights in a freezer! Kate reveals her passion for celebrity-assassination! Chris talks in Mandarin! Holly goes Rogue Trader to take down Oxfam! Matt L gets a life. I’m kidding! Rob eats a selection of rare and endangered gorillas! George attempts to break the speed record for falling from a building – against his will! Matt J finally writes an article. I’m kidding! Miriam thinks she’s falling in love with a handsome Frenchman – what she doesn’t know is, we’re going to execute her! Our resident philosophical novelist, Mr S Ritchie, 88, was asked recently by journalists to shed some light on the internal procedures at the Richard Huish Occasionally. We would like to take this opportunity to denounce every aspect of what he is quoted as saying, and stress that we never tied up that dolphin and have never incited or encouraged any group of teenagers or otherwise to hang a sign saying “Lik my hole, Jessis” above the alter of St James Church, Taunton, whilst a wedding was in progress. We have other, more appropriate ways of advertising our love of the Communist Party of East Congo. We would appreciate it if Mr Ritchie could be remembered, now that he has met his untimely and suspicious end, not for these damning accusations, but for his love of cricket and pizza and young men. His last words were recorded on Secret Police Tape at the Offices of the Richard Huish Occasionally (situated in North Korea), and were as follows: “Hey guys, what do you need me to come in this cupboard for? Want me to talk about twins? What the f*ck’s up with twins, anyway? I mean, aren’t they just f*cking weird? When you think about it, I mean. What’re you holding there, George? Why’s it hissing and rattling like that? [muffled screaming]”. If you adore the “Occasionally” as much as other person who reads it, then just wait until you see the “Occasionally Essays”, a collection of essays written by Occasionally writers. It will blow your tiny mind. But it won’t be out until Christmas, so start saving. We had to sell our collective virginity to cover publishing costs, so we need to sell at least two copies of the book. Peace out. Yours blasphemously, The Richard Huish Occasionally