Letters To The Editor - From Women At A Full Moon

Funny story written by Skoob1999

Tuesday, 28 June 2011


The funny story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

If you wish to back out now, please click here to go back to the home page.

image for Letters To The Editor - From Women At A Full Moon
Tootsie LaRue Pictured At Liverpool John Lennon Airport Coming Back From Brazil With A Sore Undercarriage.


Dear Sir,

I wonder if any of your readers can settle an argument? Only, my husband and I were having a discussion the other day about the end of the world. He reckons it will happen either when the sun finally goes nova, turns into a red giant and swallows the earth up, or when we get hit by a giant asteroid. I reckon it'll end when we get overrun with vampires and zombies, which will prompt space aliens to evaporate the planet with a giant ray gun. He says I'm just being stupid and unrealistic, but I'm the one who watches the Discovery Channel while he's the fool who wastes his life watching football on Sky Sports. So, who's right then?

Mildred Pierce




Dear Sir,

May I first say, how refreshing it is to read a letter from a woman on your letters page. Even if her letter is a load of nonsensical twaddle. More power to the Mildred Pierce's of this world, I say. When I was a young woman, growing up in Tavistock, there was virtually zero chance of a woman having a letter published in a magazine, no matter how well written or topical the writing was. Mind you, in them days we didn't have televisions or the wireless, so we had to make our own entertainment. That was overrated too, I can tell you. As a result of making my own entertainment, I'd had seven kids by the time I was 22. There was no "pill" back in them days - apart from the ones you took for headaches or tummy upsets. But it wasn't all bad. The food tasted a lot better back then, especially the fish and chips and the Cornish pasties. And it was cheaper. Mind you, there was a lot of rickets about, and diptheria, and smallpox, but at least in them days the doctors had a nice bedside manner, and they always warmed their hands up before they examined a lady's bits. Eeh! I remember it like it was yesterday. But it wasn't. Obviously.

Myra Breckinridge,

Tiger Bay.



Dear Sir,

I've just been reading your letters page and was - to say the least - somewhat surprised to find that your two opening letters came from ladies. It's been a sheer delight reading their nonsensensical drivel. We need more of this sort of thing. Last time I looked on here, there was all this stuff about some bloke who had a cardboard box fetish and got locked up in prison for it. Serves the dirty bugger right. Us women don't get up to them sorts of things, having better things to do, and that. Mind you, there is a rumour that young Millicent Marchmount from Aspidistra Street has it off with her Alsatian dog when her husband's on the night shift. Although having said that, it is just a rumour, and you probably know how easily these things can get out of hand. My old man's a dustman, you know, and yes! He really does wear a dustman's hat. But only when he's at work.

Dolores Claibourne,




Dear Sir,

I'd like to nominate my husband, Eddie, for some kind of award. I'm not quite sure exactly what sort of award, but probably not a very good one, because he is completely clueless, and he is just about as sexist as they come. He remains convinced, to this day, that a woman's place is in the kitchen, and yet he is absolutely useless at anything he turns his hand to. He still can't manage to boil an egg, or cook kippers in the microwave, and his DIY is a disaster. He has zero financial acumen, and is about as useful as a rubber screwdriver. But the poor love deserves an award, because little does he know, that while he's hard at work of a daytime stacking the shelves at Tesco, I've carved out a successful career for myself as a barrister, making frequent appearances at the Old Bailey in high profile cases. He's even seen me being interviewed on Sky News and not recognised me. I reckon it's the wig and the robes. So if anybody has any kind of award they'd like to bestow on the useless great lump, please drop me an email.

Erin Brockovich,




Dear Sir,

What a refreshing change it makes to read a letters page dominated by women! It's been my experience that pages like this are dominated by boring men talking about nothing but sports and their various sexual preferences. If you ask me, it's high time women came to understand and appreciate how empowered we actually are. And if there are any men actually reading this, maybe now you'll understand that women are human beings, and not merely sex objects. For those who don't understand, they should log on to my website, www.sexysusietheinternethooker.con - where they can purchase a full range of adult DVD's, sign up to my newsletter, and purchase soiled panties and hardcore magazines online. Most of which feature me as the star. And the beauty of it is, my husband doesn't know a thing about my little 'sideline.' Talk about girl power...actually, I shouldn't, because I'm 56, a little old to be considered a 'girl' and to be frank, I've seen better days. But hey, business is booming.

Susan Hungerpang




Dear Sir,

I'm a woman, but I've only been a woman for about a month, and I'm 47 years old. How can this be? You may well ask. I shall tell you. I used to think that I was a woman trapped in a man's body, a bit like Hayley off Coronation Street when she was Harold. In all honesty, I was always a bit of a mincer. But, I suppose I learned to live with it. Then I met this bloke - lovely bloke he was, but he wasn't gay or anything, and he wasn't keen on the 'extra bits' that came with my package. Anyway, he kept telling me that he wanted me to be a 'proper' woman, have a sex change, take up baking and line dancing and stuff. So I saved up, and a month ago I went to Brazil and had the op. Bloody disaster that was. I still can't sit down comfortably, and my chap buggered off with a Dolly Parton impersonator. It's no fun being a woman, let me tell you. All people want to talk about is babies, manicures, them fish what eat all the gunge off your feet and shopping. To be honest, being a puff was more fun. Still, you live and learn.

Tootsie LaRue,



Well, that was crap wasn't it? So much for women. But with equality and all that being an issue, we had to let the ladies have their say. If there's anything you'd like to get off your chest, (providing it doesn't involve surgery) just send it in. We'll ignore it as usual.

The funny story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

Do you dream of being a comedy news writer? Click here to be a writer!

Comedy spoof news topics
Go to top
readers are online right now!
Globey, The Spoof's mascot

We use cookies to give you the best experience, this includes cookies from third party websites and advertisers.

Continue ? Find out more