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The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello Buglers and welcome to issue 30 of the Bugle for the week beginning Monday, the 26th of May, 2008.

That's right, the Bugle is 30, so it's thinking about settling down, whilst also panicking increasingly about the prospect of death, as it suddenly realises there are podcasts much younger than it that it doesn't really understand.

Also, the 26th of May 2008 is 100 years to the day, possibly even to the minutes, depending on when you're listening to this, since the first major commercial oil find in the Middle East.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Exploitative, violent, embarrassing, stroppy, naughty history.

The find was actually made in southwest Iran, but the rights of the oil were soon acquired by, can you guess, Britain.

It was us.

And just think, if as fair a minded nation as Britain hadn't taken control of the situation on day one, just imagine how much more of a mess the Middle East would be in now.

You're all welcome.

Happy birthday, Middle East Oil.

100 today.

So for this historic 100 Years of Oil special, in which we will be commemorating oil by trying not to think about it or mention it, as seemed only appropriate, I, Andy Zoltzmann, am in London, and in New York City, it's Mr.

John Oliver.

Hello buglers.

Hello Andy.

Andy last night I was coming home late at night and I turned the corner on my block and there was snow everywhere and it turned out that Catherine Zeta Jones is filming a romantic comedy.

There were Christmas decorations and snow everywhere on my block.

It had turned into a winter wonderland.

I got up this morning to come here.

It was all gone.

It was back to bags of rotting rubbish and the stench of urine.

The Zeta Jones spell had worn off.

Catherine Zeta Jones' not the littlest hobo, Andy.

She can't stay for long.

She keeps moving on.

What Zeta Jones wants, Zeta Jones gets in the way of weather.

That's why it rained in Wales throughout the 1980s.

She just loved wearing a Mac.

As always, some sections of the Bugle go straight in the bin.

This week, a health section, including features on how to eat a snake without getting violently sick.

The key is to kill the snake before you take your first mouthful.

Also, jogging makes you fat, claims lazy thin scientist.

Also the bugle investigates the great health conundrum.

Does wearing a hospital smock make you feel ill or are you wearing a hospital smock because you were already ill?

And also we'll be explaining why in law it's okay for your doctor to tell you that you've got six months to live but it's not okay for you to tell your doctor that he's got six minutes to live.

Top story this week and abortion.

The abortion issue and Andy, it's the electoral piñada.

Both sides smash it to pieces in a frenzy to get to the sweet, sweet votes within.

In Britain, the upper time limit for abortions will remain at 24 weeks.

That's the big news.

There have been an attempt to cut it down to anything from 12 to 22 weeks, so they were willing to be haggled.

They had a 10-week negotiation zone.

As long as it was a fortnight less, Andy, it's that final fortnight, which hurts them for some inexplicable reason.

In America, there are groups that want abortion stamped out altogether and like to argue this extremely delicate point by petrol bombing the houses of doctors who perform abortions.

But in Britain we simply like to lobby to have a fortnight knocked off the top.

The Second World War really knocked the fight out of us, I think.

Well I think it's great news, John, that the 24-week limit isn't coming down because it's going to help us maintain our cherished and hard-won place near the very top of the European Abortion League.

Because we are really great at getting pregnant without really meaning to.

Well yeah, those who want the

They're probably against that as well.

And they'll get to that issue as soon as they're done with this abortion kerfuffle.

And that is the first time those two words have ever been near each other.

Well, embryos and fetuses, we've all been one, or both.

So I guess we all hold a bit of a candle for those simple days when all we had to think about was splitting the odd cell here and there or later on in the process pretending our umbilical cord was a guitar and axing out some fat chops on it in the privacy of our own womb.

I'd love to have seen your first scan, Andy.

Head thrown back, eyes closed.

Doing a version of the wind cries Mary.

Well Johnny, it was the 70s.

You know, guitars ruled.

Any cut in time would have contravened any medical or scientific evidence.

But who cares about either of those, Andy?

I don't make decisions based on them.

All my decisions are based on moral grandstanding.

In any medical emergency, I ignore doctors and listen to the person who is shouting the loudest.

If that person is shouting through a megaphone, then so much the better.

But it's not just abortion that the British Parliament, the original and still the best, has spent most of the last week voting about.

They've also voted overwhelmingly in favour of human-animal hybrid embryo research in an effort to help find cures for diseases such as Alzheimer's, whilst also attempting to boost the ailing British film industry by spawning a host of low-budget horror movies featuring half-human, half-goose supercreatures escaping from a poorly secured laboratory and flapping rampantly through British high streets, eating breadcrumbs and honking at children.

Now, I don't know a lot about this kind of science, John, but much of the opposition to it seems to be based on the assumption that we don't want our children to have to go to school with a kid who's got the head of a rhinoceros.

And it's also based on the as-yet unproven theory that God wants old people to be able to enjoy the most miserable and hopeless possible ride into the inescapable chasm of oblivion.

If the Almighty Lord hadn't wanted us to die slowly of Alzheimer's, he would have sent us a cure by now already.

In fact, Conservative MP Edward Lee said that this was ethically wrong and almost certainly medically useless.

So strong words there from Professor Lee.

Oh, I'm sorry, he isn't a professor.

Dr.

Lee then.

Well, he's not a doctor either.

Minister Lee then.

He's not even a minister.

Oh, strong words from ex-Minister Edward Lee there.

A fully qualified Edward.

That's right, Edward Lee, Tory MP who has recently voted the British politician most easy to fit into a rap lyric, said that in modern Britain, the most dangerous place to be is in your mother's womb, especially if you've already been born.

But that does sound a bit like a promotional tagline for an action thriller starring Samuel L.

Jackson as an amniotic sack.

That's true.

That's all that needs is that voiceover.

The most dangerous place in Britain was his mother's womb.

Cut to Samuel L.

Jackson in a womb with a machine gun shooting his way out.

And also the most dangerous place in modern Britain.

He's clearly never been to Swansea.

Boom!

Boom, Andy!

Take that Swansea!

Boom!

John, that is merely based on the reaction to that gig we did there a few years ago.

That's not a good gig.

Well actually the gig was strong.

I stand by the gig.

The reaction was harsh.

One newspaper in Britain described the scene of anti-abortion protests being alongside pro-abortion protests.

Pro-abortion?

I don't think that's the phrase that people like to use, Andy.

I think they prefer pro-choice.

These people aren't for as many abortions as possible.

Abortion's for everybody.

Don't knock it till you've tried it.

They don't look at every happy new mother as a missed opportunity.

There were extremely emotive speeches in the House of Commons because, Andy, that's what this issue needs, even more heightened emotions.

And also, there is nothing quite like hearing white old men pontificating about the rights of abortions.

And Mark Pritchard, another Conservative MP, argued, I believe that terminating a child that's been woven and knitted in the womb should be a choice of last resort, not the latest manifestation of Britain's throwaway society.

I totally agree with him, Andy, but he brings up a far more important point.

How are knitted children getting into the womb?

These poor woollen bastards don't have a hope in life.

Who is getting into women's wombs in the night and knitting woolen children?

It's Al-Qaeda, isn't it?

I know it.

Parliament in its one-week-long festival of voting on embryos, also voted to scrap laws which force fertility clinics to consider the need for a father and mother before allowing women to seek IVF treatment.

So opponents are suggesting that this is really another step towards the inevitable banning of the family.

And basically, it does seem that no one will be allowed to have babies apart from homosexual couples within about three years, according to what I've read in some newspapers.

Of course, not everyone would agree with the need for a father figure in a family relationship.

Marvin Gaye for example, with hindsight, might have decided that he could have done without.

Or maybe Greek god and bugle favourite Zeus, whose daddy Kronos tried to eat him.

Now I'm sure Zeus would have loved to have been brought up by two caring lesbians instead.

It might have made him a bit more even-tempered and less likely to chuck his thunderbolts around like an angry child refusing to eat its Brussels sprouts.

Well in other landmark legal rulings this time across the massive polluted pond, the California Supreme Court just ruled 4-3 against the ban on same-sex marriage, calling it unconstitutional.

Now this progressive, clearly moral ruling has thrown a hand grenade into the presidential race and will keep on throwing them until November.

Fox chose to report this by having borderline gay porn running as b-roll over what the reporter outside the courthouse was saying.

Their take seems to be that this ruling essentially claims that all the founding fathers were gay.

Justice Marvin R.

Baxter was concerned that this ruling paved the way for arguments that polygamy and incest laws were no longer constitutionally justified.

But that is not the same thing.

Does he really believe that homosexuality is a gateway drug to incest?

Because if he does, his head must be a terrifying place to live in.

It must be one long horror movie.

I'd love to spend two and a half hours in there with some popcorn.

Politicians over here have been accused of playing God, in other words, not being believed in by the majority of the population anymore, not having done anything really worthwhile for ages, and employing employing members of their own family in important roles.

Now I'm not saying Jesus wasn't the best man for the job John I'm just saying that it would have been nice if the recruitment and appointment process had been a bit more transparent.

Hugo Chavez having a whinge in American news now and Hugo Chavez is in a right strop over an American aircraft violating his airspace.

Apparently the US naval aeroplane claimed it was on an anti-narcotics mission and that it experienced navigational problems and ended up over Venezuelan airspace.

Oh, yeah, that's I'm sure that's exactly what happened, Andy.

State-of-the-art military planes have navigational problems all the time.

They've got GPS, you know.

You know what they can be like in two clouds time?

Turn right.

Buglers, as you know, both Andy and I are huge fans of a bit of wacky dictatoring every now and then.

And let's face it, they don't come wackier or much dictatier than Hugo Chavez at the moment.

And thankfully, he is finally back in the news, easing himself back in with a bit of light international incidenting.

But it's great to see Chavez back on form.

Also, he's facing accusations of helping the FARC rebels in Colombia.

He's dismissed the thousands of documents, apparently detailing the extent of the Venezuelan government's involvement with FARC, as fakes and called the Interpol investigation a clown show run by a gringo policeman.

Touche Interpol.

Let's call that 15 all.

In fact, not only does he just say it's a clown show, he claims he's actually got thousands of documents showing Interpol staff members wearing massive shoes and looking either unnaturally happy or unnaturally sad.

The only reason that this won't make relations between Colombia and Venezuela any worse is because they can't get any worse, Andy.

You can just add this to the pile of reasons that they hate each other.

But what is Chavez's standard operational procedure with the US here?

Well, that's right.

It's the old threatening to cut off oil to them technique.

Works every time.

It's like a parent saying, say sorry, or you won't get any of that ice cream that you say you can't live without.

So, to commemorate Chavez's return to the world's front pages, here is a brief biography of Hugo Crackers from Caracas Chavez.

Hugo Chavez was born in Heswell, near Liverpool, in 1955, but moved to Somerset at a young age, where he made his debut for the county in 1974.

Just three years later, Chavez was in the England team for the third test against Australia, the first of 102 appearances, which brought him a record 383 test wickets, 5,200 runs, and 120 catches, in one of the most spectacular careers the game of cricket has ever been privileged to witness.

It reached its peak with Chavez's spectacular one-man demolition of Australia with batten ball in 1981.

On retiring from cricket in 1993, Chavez moved to Venezuela and founded the Movimiento Quinto República or the Fifth Republic movement, which rapidly gained popularity.

In 1998, Little Hugo was elected president.

Andy, are you sure that was a profile of Hugo Chavez and not Ian Botham?

Oh, hang on.

So when Chavez isn't busy trash talking America, what he's usually doing is rejecting calls for him to be assassinated.

Now, amongst the people who have called for Chavez to be assassinated are the TV evangelist and self-proclaimed God fan, Pat Robertson.

Huge fan of God.

Huge fan of God.

Big fan of God's.

Before it was fashionable.

But less of a fan of Hugo Chavez, who it turns out is not one of God's children.

And he said on the subject of Chavez's assassination, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it.

It's a whole lot cheaper than starting a war, and I don't think any oil shipments will stop.

Oh, Pat, that is starting a war.

But I think it's very much in line with the teachings of Jesus, John.

I mean, who can forget the parable of the politically expedient killing?

In which Jesus advocated bumping off an awkward Samaritan chieftain in order to ensure access to his plentiful supply of donkeys.

Also,

Chavez, back in the 80s and 90s, had an affair with a woman called Herma Marksman

and as if dating a real-life bond girl in itself wasn't enough, she has since described his government as a fascist dictatorship.

Now that, John, is a bad break-up.

We've all been there, Andy, but you know, there's always faults on both sides.

You know, people say things I'm sure they don't mean.

I myself have had break-ups which have ended badly and there's been all kinds of fascist allegations thrown around.

And some of those accusations have been true, John.

I've seen the massive flags you keep in your flat.

They're not flags, they're throws, Andy.

They're throws to go over sofas.

Not flags.

Marksman now apparently believes that Chavez disguised himself as Little Red Riding Hood, but turned out to be the wolf.

Which does raise questions about her own judgment.

Because if you can't see that a girl is in fact a large carnivorous mammal wearing a girl's clothes, then you thoroughly deserve to be eaten.

A photo actually came out recently with Chavez standing proudly with his signature beret on and his parrot is on his shoulder.

Now, this would be a funny image anyway, Andy, were it not for the fact that the parrot is also wearing a miniature red beret.

Chavez and his parrot have matching red berets.

That is adorable, Andy.

Either that or the only other option is it was an awkward incident where neither Chavez nor the parrot knew that the other one was going to wear their red beret that day and neither one would back down and go home and change.

They did both look quite cross in the picture.

I think it was probably the the second one.

In other parrot news, an African grey parrot in Tokyo, who was lost, kept shouting its owner's name and address until it was taken home.

Apparently the African grey has the intellect of a six-year-old, but none of the manners of a six-year-old, it seems.

If an African grey parrot just started shouting addresses at me, I would wait for a please.

Unless you're going to have a pet that acts like a child, why not just go the whole hog and have an actual child?

The owner had taught Yasuke, the red-tailed African grey, to recite his name and address, presumably because he thought it might come in handy, John, if he and the parrot ever went out for a couple of drinks, ended up thinking, what the hell, let's make a night of it, getting absolutely hammered and waking up at a bus stop at five in the morning with no recollection of ever having been born.

That is when your parrot, knowing your own address, comes in handy.

A different parrot hit the headlines this week when it emerged that it was chanting Obama slogans, shouting out Obama.

And yes, we can.

The media focused on those little sound bites and not on the wider picture, which is a nearby parrot in a cage, was also heard chanting criticisms of Obama, saying, Let's all calm down a bit.

This is just rhetoric at this stage.

I, as a parrot, would be the first to be thrilled if he's actually able to execute any of this change.

But forgive me for protecting myself with a little cynicism at this stage.

Oh, one more thing.

Polly wants a cracker.

I listened to this link that you sent me of this parrot, and after saying, yes, we can, yes, we can, and Obama, he also appeared to say, hello, spunky boy.

Obama might have to reject that support now it's always good to get an endorsement Andy especially when they're from colourful birds but you have to check that bird's passed out before you release it to the press whether it's said anything wacky anything racist or anything like hello spunky boy because the press are just gonna maul that parrot now but parrots throughout history have uh proved extremely able companions for human beings the famous heart surgeon christian barnard used to take his parrot muriel to all of his operations and had taught muriel to remind him of key stages of the transplant surgery process.

Amongst the phrases Muriel would regularly bark out were, it's red and shaped like a heart, you idiot.

Out with the old, in with the new, and sew it back up.

For God's sake, sew it back up.

Koran news now.

Don't worry, everything's going to be fine.

Koran news.

President Bush was forced to apologise this week over the shooting of a copy of the Quran by an American soldier.

Apparently the holy book was found riddled with bullet holes on a shooting range in Iraq.

Well, Andy, this presumably is part of the hearts and minds strategy.

It's the best way to get them to like us.

You know, I've lost count of the number of times that I've courted women, Andy, by taking a thing they love dearly and shooting it repeatedly in front of them.

It's one of my moves, Andy.

I know what the ladies like.

I think history would dispute that.

I think, though, John, mistakes are inevitable in the early stages of a war.

It's only six and a half years since we started fighting Muslimistan.

And it's understandable if this lad hasn't yet quite twigged that there are certain religious texts which are, shall we say,

a little sensitive if you shoot them.

The US military have presented a group of elders in Iraq with a brand new copy of the Quran.

There you go.

They've got a new one.

They're up on the deal.

What's all this fuss about, about, Andy?

But you would have thought that if there are two things the last few years would have taught American snipers who are thinking of doing some target practice, those two things would be one, do not do target practice on a copy of the Quran, no matter how keen you are on practicing and no matter how few objects you have to hand to practice on.

Even if the Quran were the last object in the world, just practice shooting at the moon.

And two, if you are going to practice shooting by shooting a copy of the Quran, do it in the privacy of your own home, not in in a Muslim country that you're supposedly trying to help.

There are a couple of possible excuses that this soldier could have come up with, including what the Koran?

Oh, Mike told me it was a copy of Kerrang, the British-based rock music magazine, which I find offensive.

At a time when we're fighting to bring peace and democracy to the Middle East, this publication is peddling its message of loud heavy metal when what the world really needs is the quiet soothing strains of Gregorian chanting to calm it down.

Another possible excuse was that he was merely giving the American military a chance to gain public approval by apologising for something.

Alternatively, he could say that there was a wasp on the Koran and he didn't want it to be stung.

Otherwise, it was naughty.

Breaking down the barriers of political misogyny news now, and the Carlton Club, the elite private members' club for conservatives, is to allow women to become full members just 176 short, short years after it was founded.

The only previous woman member they've had, John, was Margaret Thatcher, the famous Prime Minister, who was granted honorary membership in 1975 on the grounds that, like Queen Elizabeth I, although she may have had the body of a weak, feeble woman, she had the heart and stomach of a velociraptor.

Presumably after promising she would complete the hazing initiation ritual of sinking Argentinian warships.

That's right, yeah.

You have to do that to prove you've got real balls.

Conservatives acknowledged the existence of women in 1882 and admitted that the concept of free will was, quote, theoretically possible in 1991.

Conservative Party spokesman Theresa May said, I'm just sorry it took them this long to join the 21st century.

Oh, they haven't done that, Teresa.

You are sorely mistaken.

They've barely entered the 20th century.

Most of them are still garumphing around in handlebar moustaches, challenging each other to races around the globe.

The Carlton Club boasts that it is, quotes, the most elite and most important of all Conservative

with that charming, self-effacing manner that has made the Tory so popular over recent years.

I think the Carlton Club are yet to acknowledge that the British Empire is over.

I think they still think we're governing sections of India.

There is uh still a lot of misogyny in British politics, which I think is probably based on the fact that since women got the vote in nineteen eighteen, we've lost an empire and only won one World Cup in return.

And uh it's very difficult for women to get on in politics because they've consistently failed to be as puerile and offensive as they need to to be to be a successful Westminster politician.

It's I guess one of women's weaknesses as a species, John.

Amongst the achievements of men MPs recently are giggling during a debate on cervical cancer, whilst female MPs are speaking, calling out melons and making booby gestures.

I mean that sounds like a joke to any of the American listeners who think that the British democracy is more vibrant.

I'm afraid that is actually true.

There were whenever female MPs in Parliament got up, there was a select group of old Conservative MPs who would say boobies, melons,

and make breast-squeezing gestures.

And the problem with that is there is almost nothing you can say that will not be immediately undercut by someone saying boobies, melons, and squeezing imaginary breasts.

It could be that over the last 20 years, women have gone up in Parliament producing great ideas for peace in the Middle East, only to sit down, confident that this will be listened to, to hear boobies, melons, and the whole thing got forgotten.

How sad.

Special feature section now, exams.

We've all done them and none of us really like them, but exams were thrown into the spotlight once again this week when it emerged that some music GCSE papers in Britain had some of the answers printed on the back cover.

Well done to everyone involved.

To be fair, it's a music exam, so it doesn't really count anyway.

You basically pass if you can bang a saucepan with a wooden spoon loud enough.

What happened was that on the back of the exam paper there was copyright information on the music used in the exam.

And unfortunately some of the questions were what music is being used in this exam.

So the answers were printed on the back.

But I think it's a reward, John, for students who take the trouble to read the copyright information on the back of their exam papers.

Because these are the kind of people who are going to succeed in life.

They're going to end up being top-class detectives or spies.

And we need more of them.

Also, also, Andy, it's rewarding children who are concerned about copyright and performance rights issues and it punishes those who don't care whether Mozart gets his residuals or not.

I don't think Mozart cares if he gets his residuals or not.

Well in which case I do not understand how the system works.

Pig Floyd famously wrote that in Britain we don't need no education, which is just as well as it appears we're not really getting any.

Also it's a double negative so what they were really saying is we do need some education.

Very clever from Floyd.

In other education news schools and universities in Britain may have to start testing students sitting in exams for brain-improving drugs.

Oh no, Andy.

First athletics, now this, education, every mark handed out will feel tainted.

I want this on record, Andy.

I got my mediocre grades clean.

And due to the sheer amount of cheaters there must have been around me, I think I should be awarded a PhD as compensation.

Well, I did sit all my school exams under a brain-improving drug, namely intensive, highly expensive private school education.

And it

worked a birthday treat.

Well done, Andy.

The Academy of Medical Sciences said that drugs for diseases like Alzheimer's were being taken to improve alertness and memory.

And they're even suggesting you're intesting children after exams now.

This really is a sad indictment of the education system, Andy.

And what a horrible way to react to a child achieving something as well.

Very good, little Timmy.

Piss into this cup, please.

Hi, John and Andy.

As a teenager in the midst of exams, I of course need some time to relax.

However, instead of going out, drinking and making various other people's lives of misery, I decided to ruin yours by making a remix of the theme to this venerable podcast.

Enclosed is the first recorded attempt at the production of a techno-bugle.

I know it's not exactly brilliant technically, but I hope it's alright.

Yours bugly, Edward Mills.

Andy, let's drop Edward's joint now.

The bugle, the bugle

the bugle, the bugle audio newspaper for a visual world the bugle visual world the bugle visual world the bugle visual world view view view

the bugle

view view pew pew pew pew pew view the bugle you bug bug

the bugle

Bye-bye.

Have a delightful week.

Cheerio!

Well, Edwards, that was a truly heroic effort.

Outstanding work, Edward.

I would leave school immediately if I was you, and I wouldn't bother going to college.

There's nothing they can teach you there that you don't already know.

Also, Andy, I had no idea you could flow.

Yeah, I can flow.

You've got flow.

Have you been spending time with Jay-Z?

We play the odd couple of sets of tennis together.

It was like a one-man, eight-mile battle.

Well, I guess an eight-mile civil war.

So well done, if any of the rest of you have remixes of parts of the bugle, dude.

That's a hit.

That's going to be a hit.

That has got Christmas number one written all over it, John.

Well done, Edward.

Good luck in your exams, but in my eyes, you've already passed.

Unfortunately, my eyes have absolutely no employment prospects for you so it is probably best to knuckle down now.

We'll give you a bugle exam pass which you can stick on your CV and see if it helps you get a job.

To celebrate the special exam section here is a bugle exam.

Four questions.

You need to get three of them right to win the right to listen to the rest of this week's bugle.

No cheating.

Question one.

If John in a studio in New York starts banging on about George W.

Bush at 9 a.m.

New York time, whilst Andy in a studio in London begins rambling incoherently about something he's just made up at 2 p.m.

London time, at what point does their producer start waving his or her arms around telling them to get a move on?

Question 2.

If John was locked alone in a padded cell with nothing in it except a tape recorder playing the audio cryptic crossword to him and the printed grid of the crossword, how long would it take him to get one clue right?

Never!

I won't do it!

Never, never, never!

Question 3.

What happens if you play episode 23 of the bugle backwards?

A.

It sounds like a single by rock band Judas Priest.

B.

It sounds like the entire book of Deuteronomy read really fast in a voice that sounds like Susan Sarandon with a hangover.

C.

You set off a sprinkler system in Rupert Murdoch's office.

Or D.

It plays the script from the next James Bond movie in Morse Code, revealing that Bond will find love in the arms of a dancer called Sebastian, get married in a civil ceremony in California, and settle down running a rest home for retired snooker players outside San Francisco.

And question four, which of the following sports stars would have been most likely to listen to the bugle to get him or herself to sleep the night before a big match, had the bugle existed during their careers?

A.

Quarterback extraordinaire Dan Marino, his bedtime technique was to count imaginary linebackers jumping over a fence.

B.

Tennis legendette Steffi Graff, who used to get so nervous before Grand Slam finals that she would hide in a cupboard.

C.

Australian cricket maestro Don Bradman, who could only sleep if he'd personally squashed at least five mosquitoes on his bedroom wall.

Or D, golfer Ben Hogan, who used to sleep in a sandpit in an effort subconsciously to improve his bunker play.

So write your answers down on the nearest available toilet wall, and if you've got them right, three out of four, you will win the rest of the show.

Bugle.

Your emails now, and congratulations, everyone who sent us emails.

We've received some of the most disturbing emails probably ever written this week, including this one from David in Cambridge, who writes, Brace yourselves.

Dear John and Andy, a few days ago, my girlfriend and I were lying in bed listening to the bugle.

I don't like where this is heading.

When you mentioned the idea of using the world's greatest audio newspaper as a backdrop for passionate lovemaking.

No, that's not, that's not, that was not a suggestion.

That was an offhand remark saying that I didn't think it was likely to have happened.

And I feel like I may have opened Pandora's box here.

You may very well have opened Pandora's box.

We gave each other a coy look, he continues, before beginning to violently consummate our love.

To spice things up a bit, we decided to do a John and Andy roleplay.

No!

Oh no!

Oh please stop talking.

It was obvious that I should be Andy since I resemble Krusty the Clown with a receding hairline and I have a squidgy face that looks like it's made of plasticine.

It was also clear that my girlfriend should be John.

Like John, she has lots of swarthy stubble on her face and looks a bit like a pirate, albeit a slightly effeminate pirate who probably got bullied at school.

Well, I think we've both been very much put in our place.

Sadly, David continues, our sexual freesome was short-lived.

Just after talking about having sex to the bugle, Andy moved on to the audio-cryptic crossword.

Just hearing the phrase audiocryptic crossword got me so excited that I knew I wouldn't be able to stay in the game much longer.

That's some superb terminology.

My girlfriend was already miffed that I was more interested in what this week's clue would be than in her, and when it was revealed, I I was unable to contain my lascivious bodily urges any longer.

The whole sordid business had lasted just a few minutes.

I'd managed to keep my cool throughout the hottest mystery section, but I should have realised that the unbridled, full-blooded eroticism of the audio-cryptic crossword is just too much for any red-blooded male to bear.

Well, that is a regrettable vignette, Andy.

I can't believe what a monster we've uncaulked.

Well,

let's move on to a far more pleasant email, Andy.

This says, Hello, Oliver and Saltzman.

This is from jacob alford who says thanks to my dad i've discovered a whole wonderful and magic world with the bugle i live in spain but we're english and my dad just moved to live in cadiz alone until september i would love if you to say hi to him on the bugle his name is john alford uh just to remind you i listen to you thanks to him only him and i must say i'm quite addicted to it it would be wonderful because i hardly see him anymore and he's a top man I know you haven't got time for this, but it would make my day.

You never know, you might just do it.

Well, Jacob, we're going to do it.

We're gonna make time.

Partly because your dad sounds like that's some outstanding parenting to give you a tip for a podcast which is really based on lies, which will probably mislead you about how the world actually works.

So hello, John Olvin.

Hello, Jacob, as well.

Thank you for that email.

Hotties from history now, and thanks for your continued contributions to this global phenomenon that has truly redefined the nature of human existence.

This suggestion comes from a man known only as Volcano Man.

Good name.

Good name.

I don't know if it's his real name.

Or I hope it is.

It could be his Christian name.

It could be his Christian name.

So, dear John and Andy writes Volcano Man, for your consideration, the ultimate hottie from history.

Oh, those sensual flanks, those delectable shoulders, and the warm, yielding mouth filled with the hints of Eastern promise.

And lava.

Lots and lots of lava.

Like the goddess Pele, he continues.

In fact, I think you will find that Pele was in fact a footballer for Brazil from 1958 to 1970 rather than a goddess.

But anyway, we'll let that one pass.

Like the goddess Pele, who would almost certainly win the hottie from mythology competition, with the energy of thousands of atomic bombs and an age of over 74,000 years, the Toba eruption of Sumatra is a true hottie from history.

Well, John, I think that is the first seismic event that we've had nominated as a hottie from history.

But it's a good nomination, I think.

Maruli makes the earth move.

Oh, yeah.

Certainly does.

Volcano Man continues.

After years of lying quietly, passive and gentle, this Asian wonder cast off her calm demeanour and revealed the hot, boiling cauldron of passion buried within.

She literally rocked primeval man's world.

Across all of Asia and India, men were smothered by her fine ash.

All of the world swooned under the effects of her vapours.

Even now, the awesome hotness of this ultimate hottie from history lives on as volcanologists, what a great word that is, from all over the world, use any excuse they can to delve into her flooded kuldera in search of the first, fresh warmth of her renewed passion.

I think what he's done, Andy, is he's just invented volcano porn.

That could be the new boom industry.

With the emphasis very much on the boom.

Anyway, Volcano Man concludes.

Queen once said that, quotes, fat bottom girls make the rocking world go round.

I think you'll find actually that was was the queen who said that that's right she was later quoted by freddie mercury but that was the queen who said that yeah is that her coronation that's right because as we know this queen's got back andy she's got back

she's got back i'm not ashamed to say that this queen queen elizabeth has got back she's got a big butt i cannot lie

all the other royals can't deny When Her Majesty walks in with an itty-bitty waist and a round thing in my face, I get sprung.

Do you, John?

I do.

It's a compliment, Andy.

My anaconda don't want none, unless my monas got bums, hun.

She can do side bends or sit-ups, but don't lose that healthy butt.

Sir Mixelot, that's an official title.

Now Lord Mixelot, of course, after his father sadly passed away.

Back to the email.

The Queen once said that fat bottom girls make the rocking world go round, and until Western obesity reaches its dangerous and self-destructive peak, the 100-kilometer-wide booty of Toba is truly without earthly competition.

Yours, with greatest respect, Volcano Man, in need of a cold shower.

What an email!

That is outstanding, Volcano Man.

Who would have thought in this day and age of the internet that any new form of pornography could be invented?

But

Volcano Man, you have invented it.

Well done.

And you heard it on the bugle first.

So do keep your emails cascading into thebugle at timesonline.co.uk.

Sport!

And in the Champions League final this week, it was a penalty bonanza as Manchester United beat Chelsea on penalties in Moscow in front of their Russian oil oligarch owner, who slumped back into his seat with a look on his eyes that said, kill them.

Kill all of them.

The real winner was in fact Fate.

Fate won this match because for Manchester United it was 50 years since the Munich disaster, 40 years since their first European Cup win.

Surely it was fate that they would win this year.

However, John, fate also lost as it turned out that Chelsea, who were seemingly also powered by fate to win for their Russian plutocrat owner in Moscow, actually lost.

So fate really both won and lost that final, and that makes it very confusing trying to predict what is going to happen in future seemingly fate-fuelled matches.

It's a great triumph for Sir Alex Ferguson, John, who was knighted a few years ago for his services to shouting at referees.

It was an absolute masterclass of management as he outwitted his opposite number, Avram Grants, by putting his team's crossbar and post in exactly the right place.

A genius.

I don't think any other manager could have pulled that off.

And also, when he was knighted, how did he keep his eyes where they should have been when the Queen turned round to pick up her sword?

Oh, Your Majesty, did it just get dark in here?

Hey ooh!

And she presumably replied, I see you've brought your own sword.

It's the ultimate form of patriotism.

We don't have the respect of a flag that Americans have.

We don't get to go misty-eyed when we see the stars and stripes flutter majestically in the moonlight.

Instead, the Queen's elegant posterior is what will make this nation proud.

That's what if we win a gold medal in the Olympics, Andy, we should hoist the Queen up on a rope.

Ass out to the world

well John it's uh it's got that stage of the show where in times gone by in uh

happier times we would have uh would have had the audio cryptic crosswords here but uh

sadly it's uh passed away as we know last week

gone to the great big audio puzzle book in the sky gone to a better place.

But the good news is that someone has finished it.

I find this so hard to believe.

Elliot from the UK

has emailed us in.

Dear Oily and Schmaltz, he writes, please find attached a completed visual edition of the audio cryptic crossword.

We have the picture here.

He's definitely done it.

And he's got it right.

And congratulations also for bothering to print out the visual edition of the bugle

I'm glad I didn't spend those two weeks in my life for no reason at all

Elliot continues I can't say it was the best part of the bugle but it certainly was a part looking forward to more parts hopefully with less parts yours partly Elliot

well done Elliot damning it with faint praise I was more taken by this email which damns it with actual damnation and this is from Oliver Keys dear John please tell Andy that the audio cryptic crossword is the most god-awful waste of time in existence.

It's like buying life insurance for Dick Cheney's hunting partners.

I'm glad it's over.

And that man owes me three minutes of my life back.

I wasted listening to it.

Yeah, he might be glad it's over, but people were glad when the war was over, but that doesn't mean it wasn't the greatest part of British history.

Well, that is an interesting way of bending that argument.

And you can't have the three minutes of your life back.

You can't have them.

You can have three minutes added on the end.

I will give you that.

But only if that end is the next three minutes.

So you can have three minutes, but you must then kill yourself.

Otherwise, I'm afraid you've lost those three minutes.

So next week, we will be back with a replacement for the audio-cryptic crossword.

What will it be?

We've had a suggestion that it should be an audio word search.

In fact, every edition of the Bugle has been an audio word search, and the word you were looking for was egg.

So it's not going to be that, but it will be something else.

We'll replace the audio-cryptic crossword.

John, this is now also the forecast section of this week's bugle.

What do you think it's going to be?

I think it is going to be

an audio

Spot the Difference.

Well, John, I think it's going to be an audio version of Spot the Difference.

But now we've actually just

done that with that bit.

There was one difference in our two suggestions, so it will actually have to be something else.

Nicely done.

That's thrown a few spanners into

the salad bowl.

so thanks very much for listening to uh this week's bugle if you are a member of the royal family we apologize sincerely

in fact if you're a member of the human family

john you need to go and take a dip in the hudson feel a pleasure talking to you bye-bye bye-bye

hi buglers it's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast Mildly Informed which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.