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The Week’s Most Nappy, Crappy, and Meals-That-Are-Happy Headlines

PAMPERED INFANT
Given that the age of criminal responsibility in the U.K. is 10 years old, shouldn’t it be illegal to prosecute a baby there? Not when said “baby” is in fact a 46-year-old man named Martin Tarling, who simply self-IDs as a female baby named Abbi Taylor. Sort of, anyway. The whole thing is very confusing.

While actually aware he is a fully grown human, Tarling also admits he is an “adult diaper lover” who, via acts of psychologically healing “age regression,” seeks to reenter the “gentler, more carefree time” of his childhood…by soiling nappies (as diapers are called by Brits) and then leaving them lying around outside actual children’s nurseries across the North East of England, where he also enjoys coating the walls and toddlers’ baby bottles with what must be supposed, or at least hoped, is his own shit. He also finds “comfort” in climbing into clinical waste bins, presumably considering them giant metal wombs of some kind. It was this particular habit of Tarling’s that led to his legal downfall, when puzzled North East nursery staff found his “legs sticking out of a bin” on their site in 2023.

Appearing in court last week upon charges of illegally dumping “toxic materials,” Tarling’s defense lawyer insisted upon referring to his client as a woman, a charade also colluded in by various supine media outlets and the rather pathetic court itself. Tarling’s representative made the actual plea that his client should not be sent to prison, as, being a sort-of baby, he would be “vulnerable” to mistreatment by other, more gender-intolerant adult inmates there.

Yes, we’re sure he must be shitting himself. Fortunately he wears a nappy, though, doesn’t he?

URINE SANE
Tarling is not the only trans weirdo determined to inflict his sickening scatological obsessions upon the general British public at the moment.

In response to a landmark new judgment from the U.K. Supreme Court finally legally defining what a woman was (i.e., “a woman,” surprisingly enough), Britain’s serried ranks of extreme trannies decided to protest by threatening to stand in front of Parliament and engage in an act of mass revenge urination dubbed “#PeeForMe.” This was designed in order to demonstrate that “We’ll piss where we want,” in relation to such freaks potentially not being allowed into female toilets from now on.

Yes, that’s right. In order to “prove” they were women, a bunch of men proposed to get their dicks out and then wave them all around, spraying fluids from them directly onto the lenses of waiting TV cameras for everyone sane to see. As far as toilet habits go, that’s almost as dead a giveaway you’re actually male as leaving the seat up afterward would be.

If the #PeeForMe clown-show people really were “women,” then transgenderism must represent the most hideous form of Cronenbergian body horror since the Fly turned into Jeff Goldblum.

THE TURD DEGREE
Attempting to bring down a government by evacuating yourself in public doesn’t exactly fit in with the greatest civil rights campaigns of the past. During his long campaign to eject the British from India, Mahatma Gandhi didn’t stage a mass “shit-in” whereby his many hundreds of nonviolent acolytes all just squatted down and squeezed one out in the middle of the street. After all, if he’d done that in India, nobody would have even realized it was a protest, just another ordinary day in the streets of Hyderabad.

Or maybe a passing university professor would gratefully have scooped up what the hallowed Mahatma had Ma-shat-ma and smeared it all over the nearest wall in a futile attempt to keep cool in the harsh summer heat in a land where, as Noël Coward once famously observed, only mad dogs and Englishmen ever dare go out in the midday sun, to have a dump or otherwise? That was what Pratyush Vatsala, the principal of Delhi University, did this week with piles of cow dung, plastering the brown stuff all over student classrooms with her bare hands as a desperate alternative to paying for the place to have any actual air-conditioning installed.

Vatsala claimed this was a “scientific experiment” to see if the ancient Hindu belief that blessed dung from the religion’s literal holy cows possessed magical abilities to alter the surrounding ambient temperature, as implied by scriptural tradition. If so, the “experiment” soon provided conclusive results: that if you smear animal feces all over an enclosed teaching space within temperatures of 40C-plus, the place will soon start to stink to seventh heaven and start making everyone inside there vomit, keel over, and die.

Outraged degree students subsequently picked up piles of cow dung themselves and painted the wonderful substance all over Vatsala’s office, too, in order to enable her to better continue her investigation there.

Once he has been released from prison, Martin Tarling is going to emigrate to India, tape his dirty diapers to a big broom handle, and apply for a job as caretaker painting the walls with it at Delhi University. It won’t even matter if he really is a baby over there, the Indians have no problems with employing child laborers.

WHAT’S RFK JR.’S BEEF?
Once safely in India, where even national heroes like Gandhi wander around wearing adult diapers, no questions asked, the only flaw in his new life Mr. Tarling may face is that the local french fries may not taste as nice. It is noticeable that, since their 1980s heyday, the gustatory quality of such items has declined badly. The reason for this is that, at many leading outlets like McDonald’s, they are no longer cooked in delicious beef tallow—or “beef dripping,” as it is sometimes known—but in seed oils.

That’s good for the cow-lovers of India, where no sacred animals will have to suffer and die in an abattoir to add taste to your Happy Meal, but not for disappointed consumers in the U.S. and Europe, where today’s fries are every bit as limp, tasteless, and flaccid as a distressed female penis on Parliament Square has been of late.

Fortunately, a heroic new taste-buddy is at hand in the shape of Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Donald Trump’s chosen Health Secretary, who in his quest to “Make America Healthy Again” has launched a dubious-sounding crusade to claim that seed oils are inherently unwholesome, leading to consumers being “unknowingly poisoned” by them. Kennedy said seed-fried fries were “betraying” the nation’s children, calling seed oils “one of the most unhealthy ingredients” kids could ever have in their foods. He can’t have seen the kind of things Martin Tarling tries to slip in their baby bottles.

Despite his words’ apparently evidence-free nature, fast-food chains across America are rapidly heeding RFK’s message and reverting back to frying their sliced potato products in snake oil seed oil as a canny new health marketing tactic. “We’ve RFK’D our fries!” national burger joint Steak ’n Shake proudly announced earlier this year. Given how bad they taste at the moment, “We’ve FK’D our fries!” would be a more honest slogan in response from McDonald’s themselves. That line could probably even be taken literally if Martin Tarling happened to work there.

PLANE WRONG ON 9/11
Cooking shitty fries is hardly the worst crime McD’s has been accused of down the decades. During the 1980s, a strange myth arose in the United Kingdom that McDonald’s was secretly funding the Irish Republican Army, the pro-Irish independence paramilitary terror group better known as the IRA. The apparent reason was that, in American payroll lingo, “IRA” means “Individual Retirement Accounts,” an obscure form of employee pension payments, and McDonald’s tax documents with the letters “IRA” printed on them were seen by British observers and then badly misinterpreted by paranoid idiots who thought Hamburglar was really Gerry Adams in a smaller balaclava than usual.

At least the people peddling this particular crackpot terrorism-related theory were just ill-informed Ordinary Joes, though. Less excusable is the opinion of Republican senator Ron Johnson, who has just appeared on the TV talk program The Benny Show (not to be confused with The Benny Hill Show, which was ultimately far more serious) to claim 9/11 was some kind of huge mega-conspiracy in which the U.S. government had played a nefarious secret role.

Johnson cited suspicious reports of “molten steel” at the scene of THE GIANT, JET-ENGINE-FUELED HIGH-TEMPERATURE EXPLOSION as evidence something strange had been afoot in the Twin Towers that tragic day in 2001. Committed denizens of the online conspirasphere may recall one of the key lines tried out to undermine the standard narrative of 9/11 at the time was that the fireballs unleashed by the planes exploding into the side of the skyscrapers shouldn’t have been of a high enough temperature to melt the buildings’ supporting steel-frame superstructure, thereby causing the Towers’ collapse in the first place.

The girders certainly wouldn’t have melted if they had been coated all over in the correct protective layer of heat-regulating cow dung during construction first, as recommended by both the Federal Division of Building Standards authority and Pratyush Vatsala. So what went wrong? Someone must have painted them with a cheaper, similar-looking, similar-smelling, but far inferior and worse-tasting substitute material instead, like McDonald’s has long been doing by cooking their fries in seed oils rather than beef tallow. Who could this malign individual possibly have been?

Who other than Martin Tarling? He has a known prior criminal record of smearing suspicious toxic substances over buildings without the owners’ permission, does he not? Never mind Senator Johnson calling for congressional hearings into the U.S. government’s alleged role in the Twin Towers’ collapse, how about him just starting extradition proceedings to get the U.K. diaper perv flown over in chains and an orange jumpsuit to face full justice for his evil crimes on American territory?

During his TV interview, Johnson further vowed to work with former Republican representative and conspiracy theorist Curt Weldon, in order to ask him “to expose what he’s willing to expose.” For God’s sake, don’t ask that of Martin Tarling, too, when he finally appears in a federal courtroom; you never know what he might whip out in front of you to prove that he’s really a woman.

Once he’s over here on U.S. soil, the feds should seek the death penalty for Tarling immediately. Let us hope the bastard fries. Preferably in beef tallow.