Since the disappearance of local award winning Cock-Waver extraordinaire Cllr Larry Hackman the town has found itself without a Self-Promotion Champion.

All that changed this week as part-time army chef and bean-counting councillor Harry “R” Rogerson whipped his metaphorical manhood out and gave it a good wave, announcing “THE CINEMA IS A DAMN GOOD IDEA, IT’S NOT MINE, BUT IT MIGHT BE IF IT DOESN’T FAIL. I DON’T KNOW WHY IT’S A GOOD IDEA BUT I KNOW IT’S A GOOD IDEA BECAUSE MARCEL, HACKMAN AND THE OTHERS TOLD ME. THEY ALSO SAID I COULD BE THE SPOKESBLOKE. SEE, I TOLD YOU I WAS WELL IMPORTANT!”

The Citizen asked Cllr Rogerson for his observations on the socio-economic chance for the cinema’s survival based on the local demographic. “YOU FRICKIN’ WHAT?” observed the councillor. “ALL I FUCKIN KNOW IS THAT I CAN GET DOWN THERE WITH THE MISSUS ON SATURDAY NIGHT, HAVE GOOD BEVVY, WATCH A RIGHT GOOD TEAR UP WITH CHUCK NORRIS IN THE PICTURES AND HAVE A RUCK UP THE ROSE AFTER!”

The Citizen is keen to promote the work of good honest cock-wavers like Cllr Rogerson and will be following his exploits closely.

Ingredients

150g-200g dried taglietelle per person
4 Laughing Cow triangles nicked from the fridge of a mum or nan
Cheap ham offcuts pinched from Tesco whilst ostensibly purchasing a copy of the Sport (haha, boobs)

Method

Cook the pasta in some water. If you don’t know how to get the gas on, just imagine it’s a large Sovereign and light it that was. If electric, purchase gloves.
When the pasta is nearly done, get a frying pan from Westgate and heat that up too. Open your Laughing Cow triangles.
Throw the wrappers in an alleyway for they are mere rubbish.
Melt down the cheesy stuff and stir in some hams. Obtain beans; throw them at Grubby Pete who has just arrived near the kitchen to ask why you’re writing his column.
If the beans don’t scare him off/satiate his hunger, go up S&S and buy a three-litre bottle of White Ace using your big brother’s expired passport as proof of age.
Check the pasta is cooked by dipping your friend’s stupid fingers in it. That’ll teach him to finger that bird you were eyeing up, the bastard!
Stir the whole sorry mess together, plonk in a bowl and announce that it is, indeed, food.

Well done. Make sure you give that fourteen-year-old bird of your a double portion; she’s eating for two now!

Perfectly accompanied by a can of Fosters and three B&H Silver.

Thanks to Mark I-Mark for this recipe. Submit yours by emailing cookingbeans[at]stneotscitizen.com

The Roberts Close man, who works as a drug guidance counsellor, had been away on holiday for two months, and missed the completion of both the Chav Superhighway and the guided bus.

“I couldn’t believe it when I got back to St Neots,” said Norway. “I got back on Sunday and needed milk, bread – the usual things that you’ve let go all mouldy in your fridge while you’re away. Little Tesco was really busy so I hopped on my bike and headed for Eynesbury.”

But as Norway approached the River Mill, a casual acquaintance riding the other way asked him if he’d been over the new bridge yet. “I was shocked,” explains Norway. “I never expected the Chav Superhighway to be finished, but it was, and I cycled all the way to the Eastside on it. The tarmac was smooth and the inclines on the bridge slight. It was amazing!”

Flushed with pleasure, Norway completed his shopping and repeated his journey in the opposite direction. “By the time I got home, I needed a sit-down and a cup of tea!”

The following day, Norway travelled by train to Huntingdon for a meeting then caught a bus to Cambridge. “I was annoyed at first because my usual 55 bus had been replaced by a ‘B’. I didn’t think much of it though,” he explains. But as the bus left St Ives, Norway noticed a change in surroundings. “You’d barely believe it: we were actually on the busway!” spluttered Dave. “By the time we got to Cambridge I was hyperventilating. I pretty much messed my pants!”

Doctors at Addenbrookes diagnosed Norway with Unlikely Project Completion Disorder and prescribed a heavy dose of sedatives. They expect him to be able to return to work within months. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they ever upgrade the A14,” he told the Citizen. “I’ll probably have a heart attack, I’d imagine.”

Just as that calmed down, rumours brewed that the store would soon feature a Drive Thru window for those too lazy to park their second-hand Audi TT for a peruse of the anal beads aisle.

Sawtry mother of four Brenda Taswachia, 15, told the Citizen “I dunno what all the fuss is about bruv, it’s like, well classy in there and that.”

However, Councillor Kevin Waters, former leader of CCC, is less enthusiastic. After campaigning against the opening for seven months, with only two toilet breaks and a short holiday last year (which involved dressing up as an old lady and putting a cat in a wheelie bin), cllr Waters now seems worryingly concerned with the fire resistance of the building. When asked for further comment, he jumped onto his desk and shouted at the top of his lungs, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself!” before wrapping a bedsheet around his shoulders and leaping from a second storey window. He hasn’t been seen since.

Graham Smallgoat, MD of Pulse and Crabtails, had the follwing to say: “I just think the Drive Thru window is the next logical step. The world needs edible panties and it needs them fast, there’s no time for messing around with stuff like that. Did I mention we sell a vibrator in the shape of a midget’s arm and fist? Please buy something, everyone here is really old. We really didn’t think this through.”

There are as yet unconfirmed reports of a tanning salon operating in the back room.

The new police photo...

Regular readers of the online edition of the Cambridge Used-To-Be-In-The-Evening News were today shocked to discover a new standard police image on a story about something to do with a road.

Traditionally, the website is too lazy to take pictures of anything relating to traffic problems, and just uses a shot of the back of a copper’s hi-vis vest (below).

...and the old one

People logging on this afternoon were confused. “It’s quite like the old one, but a bit different,” said Comberton resident Clare Fading. “Not sure I like it.” Cambridge human Barbie Natalie Trees agreed. “They shouldn’t have changed this image, cos like, now I won’t instantly know what the story is about.”

The publishers of the CUTBITEN said that they were sure readers would soon adapt. “After all,” said one staffer, “we’ve been using an A14 sign that someone knocked up on Paint for the last three years, and no-one’s even noticed.”

Zebastiaan von Fritzl was born in Ghent, Belgium, and spent much of his early life providing muttered commentary for the everyday activities of fat people.

Upon being overheard once in the early 90s, Zebastiaan was banished from Europe, but due to a loophole in sketchy EU law was allowed to reside in England. He has been mumbling to himself in bus stations ever since, and occasionally slapping his thigh really hard and laughing, much to the dismay of his fellow pedestrians.

Von Fritzl has a Batchelor’s Degree in Ebonics and his hobbies include shouting at swans and eating toilet tissue.

Draper has only been reporting for the Citizen for a short time, but during this period has broken the lid off a lot of stories which we’ll instantly forget.

The reporter said today, “I’ve had it with the small-town mentality of this small town. This town is too small for someone like me. Good riddance you may say, but it is I who is rid of you!”

The hunt is on for a replacement – and look out for an exciting announcement from the Citizen next week. Perhaps.

The Editor

“This situation is totally unacceptable,” says Warren Pearce, 22, who lives on the Oxmoor Estate’s notorious Kent Road and is the chairman of the local heroin and crack purveyor’s association, Huntingdon Ultra Super Narcs. “Our dealers are all independent businessmen, and are really starting to suffer in the recession. Working people just can’t afford hard drugs any more, and although there are more than ever on the dole, it just doesn’t make up the numbers.

“Just last week, one of the most prolific crack houses in our district, in Sandfields Road, St Neots, was shut down, and all the customers vanished. This put at least four badboy Yardie crack pedlars out of business.”

Seemingly unrelated is the news that Huntingdon is the UK’s most well-read town, in a survey by online book retailer Amazon. But local anthropologists have uncovered the shocking truth – namely that the town’s drug dealers have started pushing reading material instead.

“It’s an interesting find,” commented book shop employee Ras Prince, 40, of Godmanchester. “What’s happening is that the kids these days, people have been filling their heads with all kinds of nonsense about how ‘crack is whack’ and ‘heroin is not your hero’ and all that. So, the suppliers have diversified.”

The method, explains Prince, is the same as pushing Class A’s. “You butter some impressionable teen up with a few really good quality novels and such, and then once they’re hooked you can start emptying their wallets. It’s such a simple transition, I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

Certainly, this may be the only way to explain why Twilight was so popular. “After all,” says Prince, “here’s a pile of absolute dross which takes vampires from being the stuff of children’s nightmares to sparkly, flaky fairies who are scared of having sex. Only someone with a heavy addiction to the printed word would buy it.”

Unemployed tanning technician takes booking via payphone

Eynesbury residents were shocked and upset in July to find that local brothel ”tanning shop”, Studio One, had closed down.

The studio, on the Eastside’s St Mary’s Street, has been providing sexual services self-tanning services since the 1980s, when local madam small business owner Celine Bouvier discovered a need in the town for ladies of negotiable affection people to look browner.

“I’m so sad to see Studio One close,” said neighbour Pete Doughy, 32. “I mean, I rocked up there at fifteen years old before going on a family holiday to Spain, not wanting to be all pasty on the beach, and imagine my surprise when I was told the tanning beds were all broken but for £40 I could have a much nicer time.”

Abandoning all pretence that the store was not a front for the purchasing of ‘business’, the Citizen tracked down Bouvier to a street corner on Cambridge’s Histon Road. “What did us in,” she explains, “was the amazing number of legitimate beauty salons that have opened in St Neots in the last few years.

“The general process was that someone would come in and ask to use a tanning bed, we would say they were broken, and they would state that they would take their business elsewhere. We would then say something like ‘oh sir, but we are still open for business, and if they didn’t look confused we had a customer.

“Of course, it wasn’t a knocking shop at all. Oh no. We were just referring to spray tans instead.”

Whatever the lies, it looks like the next generation of fourteen-year-olds will have nothing to tease their slightly overweight friend about. “Playground tradition involves posturing that you’ve ‘enjoyed’ at least eight females by year ten,” explains Ernulf St Neots Community College Ernulf principal Dave Lee Traverse, “and when someone fails in this lie you state ‘you wanna get yourself down Studio One mate’. Where are these boys going to go for dangerous liaisons now?”

Suffering more are the former beauty technicians employed at Studio One. “People don’t really like it when you walk up to them on a street corner and offer them a tan,” said Leanne Harvard, 22. “If Studio One remains closed there’s going to be at least three unemployed ‘technicians’ hanging around the Market Square at night, and that just won’t do a great deal for the town’s image, will it?”

It appears that the unaccounted-for money, to the tune of a Rowley Million, has been put forward by a consortium made up of Bedfordshire Police and Cambridgeshire Constabulary.

Chief Inspector Kim Stonely-Bolton, from Cambs Police, released the following statement after presenting him with our findings.

“Cambs Police had help to co-fund this bridge with our colleagues over the border to help in our current campaign, ‘Operation Collar a Chav called Kevin’, or ‘CACK’. The St Neotian chav is not the brightest of the chav species inhabiting this island, and will always take the shortest, most direct route home after a bit of thieving, vandalism or fighting – not bothering to circuitously avoid the Rozzers at all.

“Regular trips into Little Barford to burn out a car prompted Beds Police to help in the bridge’s funding. Once on this highway we can easily pick them up at the other end.”

Mrs Moore from from Huddersfield, holidaying in the Eynesbury Camp Site, is not so convinced. “They will just run down the side of this lovely little camp site, ruining a good swinging session or an early night. The last thing we want is that blasted helicopter hanging over us”

Ex-councilor Julia Wayward thought the idea was “Excellent,” but added “Please don’t call me again. I only left the council so the Citizen would leave me alone.”

With the darker nights soon to be coming, it is expected the bridge will become busier by the day – once Darren and his mates have smashed all the lights, of course.