This leads me on nicely to a recent story involving autoerotic asphyxiation. Or at least, police suspect it may be so. I’m not sure you’ll have heard it and if you haven’t then I’ll quickly outline it for you. Put simply a person who worked for MI6 was found dead in his flat. But not only that, they pondered that the deceased may well have died as a result of a sexual act known as autoerotic asphyxiation because he wasn’t just found dead. He was found dead in his flat. Within his flat he was within the bathroom. Within the bathroom he was in the bath. Within the bath he was in a sports bag. Now the reason, the police believe it may have been a sexual thing for this man, Gareth Williams, was because in this Russian doll-like mystery, he was actually naked within that sports bag. And that is what stops a murder investigation from perhaps being a murder investigation, because let’s face it, we have all fancied a cheeky wank within a sports bag when the moment arises. And by ‘moment’ I of course mean ‘penis.’
But I digress. The problem I have with this particular theory is that even if you were into being asphyxiated in what one might call an autoerotic way, I very much doubt you’d get fully naked, think the old orange and tie method is a bit too strange for you, and opt for your sports bag. Would you? In the defence of this belief though, maybe Mr. Williams didn’t have an orange or a tie to hand. He may have had the tie and when he then realised he was lacking the orange, opted to follow through with his pleasuring procedure as he couldn’t be bothered to go through with the whole rigmarole of putting his clothes back on, heading out to buy an orange and returning to the flat, only to undress once more. The want of that masturbation may have passed by then. And Gareth needed that orgasm now. Hence the sports bag.
But again, another query rears its ugly head from the recesses of my brain. Why would you clamber into the damn thing? Where’s the logic in that? Surely the whole idea of autoerotic asphyxiation is to starve yourself of air to the brain. So why not put your head in, zip around the neck and then commence? There’s just no logic to the idea of clambering in. This bloke worked for MI6 and he essentially thought that this was the best method of getting himself off? Really?
Let’s say for the sake of argument, Gareth Williams did think this. The zipping round the neck thing didn’t work for him because it reminded him too much of the feeling of a tie around his neck and he hadn’t yet go over his lack of an orange. That or he enjoyed a good ogle at himself as he did the deed. I don’t know. So let’s say for the sake of argument he does jump in the bag and zip it all the way up to maximise his chance of being asphyxiated. Fantastic. But then the question arises as to what exactly he plans to do once he reaches the point of climax. Where will it go? Williams is in a foetal position, in a sports bag and then what? He just covers himself in jizz? That’s got to ruin the mood hasn’t it? The brilliance of the orgasm marred by the complete disgust of what he has just done to himself. He’d have then had to find the zip to the bag, pull himself out and wash himself down; mentally reminding himself to was the bag before his next visit to the gym.
The problem with this whole autoerotic asphyxiation theory is the fact that the investigating police suggested this whole idea in the first place. It makes me wonder how good a detective might be lurking within me. For I have omitted a key detail which may help to better understand why Mr Williams may indeed have been murderer after all. The body was padlocked inside the bag.
Now, either this is a case of murder or Gareth Williams was a bit of a masturbation maverick. He saw himself as top of the game. So what he did was he entered the flat, about to fulfil his craftiest deed yet. He has worked himself down from suitcases to a single sports bag. This was it. He would undress himself and get inside the bag, zipping it up in the process. Perfect. He’d then reach through a torn panel of the bag and place a padlock around the zip. Great. He’d then carefully sew up the bag from the inside, swallow the needle and string in case he failed in his yet-to-be-explained-to-you-the-reader mission and didn’t want to be found in this most embarrassing way because anyone who is anyone would have jumped to the conclusion of autoerotic asphyxiation. I put it to you now, that in this position, the majestic Gareth Williams would then wank himself silly, ejaculate, attempt to undo the lock from the inside like a modern-day Houdini and once on the outside see if he had beaten his personal best for the speed of completion in this task.
So it’s either my theory or murder. The way that the British police seem to be working, I reckon my theory has the edge.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Shakespeare
The following passage is something I wrote in an email the other day. I quite like the idea...
"I am not sure I could stand up for a Shakespeare play. They are rather long. I admire them, yes but I'm not captivated by him. I don't think I understand half of the words used. Or I do, he just has a very slow way of getting to the point. Probably because he had to write the dictionary to get his point across as he has apparently provided the English language with more words than anyone else. If he had to write the dictionary as he wrote a play, how did any of the audience ever know what was going on too? Or the cast. Nobody knew what was going on. I bet early performances came with a glossary. And even that came with a second glossary as he used fake words in the first glossary. And it carried on ad infinitum."
So there we go. Adios for now...
"I am not sure I could stand up for a Shakespeare play. They are rather long. I admire them, yes but I'm not captivated by him. I don't think I understand half of the words used. Or I do, he just has a very slow way of getting to the point. Probably because he had to write the dictionary to get his point across as he has apparently provided the English language with more words than anyone else. If he had to write the dictionary as he wrote a play, how did any of the audience ever know what was going on too? Or the cast. Nobody knew what was going on. I bet early performances came with a glossary. And even that came with a second glossary as he used fake words in the first glossary. And it carried on ad infinitum."
So there we go. Adios for now...
Sunday, 1 August 2010
To Enter or Not To Enter?
Yesterday afternoon, I had a conversation with my brother, where we mused about Britain's Got Talent. Or rather, I mused and he just listened as he smoked whatever it was he was smoking. It could have been a simple cigarette but between you, me and the whole Internet, I don't think it was.
Anyway it started with him asking me how my Edinburgh show is going and me answering it in some detail. As a result of this, I then got on to fantasising about becoming massive in comedy, before ultimately coming to terms with the idea that it wouldn't happen by me just sitting on a chair in the back garden. No, I clearly had to enter Britain's Got Talent.
During this chat with my brother, I complained to him that normal comedians never do very well on that show. It's not my brother's fault; his name is Simon but his surname isn't Cowell. the only comedic acts who go through are music-based and they are almost always one trick ponies, who impress when you first see them before then, in the semi-finals, you realise the novelty has worn off, despite the fact they asserted in the previous round that, "We'll keep surprising you, Simon. We've got more routines and surprises up our sleeves and we'll be better than ever." Simon Cowell always believes them. It's never true. Especially not if they get through to the final. Step forward Signature, the Michael Jackson tribute act thing, and that Father and Dad team who did the Cypriot/Greek dancing thing. I can't even remember their name. Either way, by the time the final comes along, we have already seen all of their routines. Shame. Stavros! Stavros Flatley! That was it. Proof that fat is funny for a good minute.
Either way, moving on. I then thought that maybe I should enter Britain's Got Talent? Try out some stand up comedy. In my mind, I'd sail through the subsequent rounds and perform for the Queen. I never get why performing for the Queen is what everyone on Britain's Got Talent seems to want to do. Rather than a decent career, performing for the Queen is your target? I can't verbalise that very well. But I hope you get my point. With some work, I thought I could focus on that for a routine to Simon, Piers and Amanda.
Then I realised that no. I did not want to do that. I think that if I went on Britain's Got Talent, I might head on by myself and stand at the microphone. I'd tell Simon that yes, this has always been my dream and performing for the Queen would be an honour. I'd then say I'm an impressionist. Prior to this round, I should say that before being put in front of the judges I'd just be a normal person and hope they like whatever fact act I come up with. Anyway, once in front of the judges the following would occur: "Take it away." Simon would say. A friend would then run on with a T-shirt emblazoned with 'Music Industry' on it. They'd bend over for me. I'd take out a Simon Cowell mask, put it on and act as though I was raping the shit out of it. My friend could even chuck money out of his hands as I was doing it. And I could catch the coins in mine. I expect my performance would be cut short after a couple of seconds, if that.
But God, it'd be worth it.
Anyway it started with him asking me how my Edinburgh show is going and me answering it in some detail. As a result of this, I then got on to fantasising about becoming massive in comedy, before ultimately coming to terms with the idea that it wouldn't happen by me just sitting on a chair in the back garden. No, I clearly had to enter Britain's Got Talent.
During this chat with my brother, I complained to him that normal comedians never do very well on that show. It's not my brother's fault; his name is Simon but his surname isn't Cowell. the only comedic acts who go through are music-based and they are almost always one trick ponies, who impress when you first see them before then, in the semi-finals, you realise the novelty has worn off, despite the fact they asserted in the previous round that, "We'll keep surprising you, Simon. We've got more routines and surprises up our sleeves and we'll be better than ever." Simon Cowell always believes them. It's never true. Especially not if they get through to the final. Step forward Signature, the Michael Jackson tribute act thing, and that Father and Dad team who did the Cypriot/Greek dancing thing. I can't even remember their name. Either way, by the time the final comes along, we have already seen all of their routines. Shame. Stavros! Stavros Flatley! That was it. Proof that fat is funny for a good minute.
Either way, moving on. I then thought that maybe I should enter Britain's Got Talent? Try out some stand up comedy. In my mind, I'd sail through the subsequent rounds and perform for the Queen. I never get why performing for the Queen is what everyone on Britain's Got Talent seems to want to do. Rather than a decent career, performing for the Queen is your target? I can't verbalise that very well. But I hope you get my point. With some work, I thought I could focus on that for a routine to Simon, Piers and Amanda.
Then I realised that no. I did not want to do that. I think that if I went on Britain's Got Talent, I might head on by myself and stand at the microphone. I'd tell Simon that yes, this has always been my dream and performing for the Queen would be an honour. I'd then say I'm an impressionist. Prior to this round, I should say that before being put in front of the judges I'd just be a normal person and hope they like whatever fact act I come up with. Anyway, once in front of the judges the following would occur: "Take it away." Simon would say. A friend would then run on with a T-shirt emblazoned with 'Music Industry' on it. They'd bend over for me. I'd take out a Simon Cowell mask, put it on and act as though I was raping the shit out of it. My friend could even chuck money out of his hands as I was doing it. And I could catch the coins in mine. I expect my performance would be cut short after a couple of seconds, if that.
But God, it'd be worth it.
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Dear HP Computers...
I just sent this email to HP. I hope they solve my laptop issue.
Subject: Webcam Problem
Hi to whomever happens to be in control of the help@HP email address,
I do hope you are well. I, as it happens, am not well. In terms of health, I was absolutely fine. And then my laptop, made by you guys, really started to play up and my stress levels went through the roof. I would send you the bill, but here in the UK we have the NHS so you are getting off lightly.
Put simply, where has my disc drive gone? I don't mean in the physical sense of the word because I can see it. It's there in front of me now. Just sitting there, waiting to be used. The problem is it can't actually be used because my precious HP Pavilion dv9000 laptop doesn't seem to realise the disc drive is there waiting to be used. I don't know where it thinks it has gone but it certainly doesn't think it exists. I put a disc in it. It made the whole whirring sound and then gave up. I sighed. I wasn't expecting it to work because it hasn't worked for months anyway. I just thought I'd give you a bit of back story before I talk about the thing that is really annoying me.
You know that service you can use? That does the free internet video calls? Skype? Do you use it? Because I used to before my laptop decided it didn't have a microphone integrated into it. Luckily, I still had a webcam that could send images to my friend! Except, I didn't did I? Because my laptop deleted that too. Hence the 'Webcam Problem' title I chose for the subject of this email. Except it's not really a problem because according to my HP laptop, this webcam doesn't exist. Deep. Quite the product you created here, HP. This whole webcam problem didn't bother me at first though though because unlike seemingly a lot of people who probably contact you, I know that Google (sorry to mention a different brand name in this email) exists and many computer geeks help solve others computer problems on various forums on the Internet. Fantastic.
After a bit of 'googling', it transpired that all I had to do was go into my Control Panel, go into Device Manager and have a look at Imaging Devices. From there I could install some new driver software for the webcam or update it as I saw fit. If you could do that now on whatever machine you use, that'd be great. Did you find it? Under imaging devices? Then I can only assume that you aren't using an HP product. If you are, you certainly aren't using the HP Pavilion dv9000 because my personal HP Pavilion dv9000 has no imaging devices section. It doesn't think the webcam exists. Strange, considering I can see it right in front of me. Integrated into the laptop.
Fair enough, I thought. Fair enough. I shall visit the HP website, do some voodoo magic and see if I can't get this baby up and running again. I did as the HP website said I should do if my webcam disappears upon upgrading to Windows Vista Service Pack 2. Go to imaging devices and...hey! Hang on a second! There is no imaging devices! and your website offers no support for that particular problem. So I did a bit more googling. What a company they are. They helped me in my hour of need. I discovered from a website that I could install an Acer driver for the webcam which would get it working again. The person who provided this advice was an HP user so it seemed like nothing could go wrong. I did as he explained. Installed it, the laptop restarted, I checked Device Manager and THERE IT WAS. Imaging Devices. Like manna from Heaven. I updated my Twitter status in delight! My HP webcam was working! I then updated Facebook too. Boy, how I celebrated. I should really stop mentioning brand names. Apologies again. Very odd though, considering your product told me this video device didn't exist mere minutes earlier.
I loaded up the webcam and there I was. In colour! I looked outrageously stressed (remember, the medical thing earlier) but ultimately relieved. I had fixed my webcam. Now to share this in the only way I knew how. Use the 'cam' on the 'web'. Hello Skype! (Again I am sorry to mention a different brand. I should have apologised for mentioning their name earlier. Please forgive me.) I launched Skype. And then... nothing. Quite literally in nothing in fact. My screen turned black. That was it. Boom. The laptop was done. Now, being an HP user yourself, you probably know this can happen from time to time. The laptop struggles with realising it doesn't have a CD drive or, in this case I suspect, gets excited at finding the webcam again. Not a problem. I wait. Sometime it decides the screen can work again. Not this time though. The Quickplay lights were still on but alas, the screen was done for. So I turn it off.
I wait for a few seconds because that always helps. But I'm afraid this tale doesn't have a happy ending. Waiting a few seconds didn't help at all. In fact, it merely delayed my misery and disappointment in your product once more. Eventually the laptop loaded. I typed in my password and wasn't that bothered at all because hey, I still had my webcam. But like a Father just getting used to having a child, I wanted to check on my baby. So I went to check Imaging Devices. Imaging Devices didn't exist. My webcam was dead. It was gone. Again. This happened about twenty minutes ago now and, to tell you the truth, I still haven't got over the loss. It would be easier to get over if the laptop would at least be honest with me and remove the physical part of the webcam. But no. It says it doesn't exist. It did exist. It does exist. I can see it now, and the memories I shared with it. That final blue flicker. The way it lit me up that one last time before your product self destructed and decided the consumer had no need for it's services.
Well I do have need for it's services. I'm not asking for a miracle. At least, I don't think I am. I am simply reaching out to you in my time of need. Where the hell does the Imaging Devices and webcam disappear to? I'd really appreciate it if you could give the gift of life back to my little integrated webcam. We shared some great times together and in my heart, I hope there are still more great times to come. In all seriousness though, I am not sure that is hope I am feeling in my heart but stress. Stress riding on a wave of anger, annoyance and disbelief at HP and their laptop model by the name of the Pavilion dv9000. In particular, the one I own.
Thank you for taking the time to read this and if you smiled or laughed at any part of this email, remember schadenfreude exists and that you are taking pleasure from my suffering. I am simply glad that my webcam didn't live to sense that this has occurred. I'd love for it to live a little longer in the future though so if you could sort out my problem, that'd be great.
Kind regards,
Henry Fosdike
Subject: Webcam Problem
Hi to whomever happens to be in control of the help@HP email address,
I do hope you are well. I, as it happens, am not well. In terms of health, I was absolutely fine. And then my laptop, made by you guys, really started to play up and my stress levels went through the roof. I would send you the bill, but here in the UK we have the NHS so you are getting off lightly.
Put simply, where has my disc drive gone? I don't mean in the physical sense of the word because I can see it. It's there in front of me now. Just sitting there, waiting to be used. The problem is it can't actually be used because my precious HP Pavilion dv9000 laptop doesn't seem to realise the disc drive is there waiting to be used. I don't know where it thinks it has gone but it certainly doesn't think it exists. I put a disc in it. It made the whole whirring sound and then gave up. I sighed. I wasn't expecting it to work because it hasn't worked for months anyway. I just thought I'd give you a bit of back story before I talk about the thing that is really annoying me.
You know that service you can use? That does the free internet video calls? Skype? Do you use it? Because I used to before my laptop decided it didn't have a microphone integrated into it. Luckily, I still had a webcam that could send images to my friend! Except, I didn't did I? Because my laptop deleted that too. Hence the 'Webcam Problem' title I chose for the subject of this email. Except it's not really a problem because according to my HP laptop, this webcam doesn't exist. Deep. Quite the product you created here, HP. This whole webcam problem didn't bother me at first though though because unlike seemingly a lot of people who probably contact you, I know that Google (sorry to mention a different brand name in this email) exists and many computer geeks help solve others computer problems on various forums on the Internet. Fantastic.
After a bit of 'googling', it transpired that all I had to do was go into my Control Panel, go into Device Manager and have a look at Imaging Devices. From there I could install some new driver software for the webcam or update it as I saw fit. If you could do that now on whatever machine you use, that'd be great. Did you find it? Under imaging devices? Then I can only assume that you aren't using an HP product. If you are, you certainly aren't using the HP Pavilion dv9000 because my personal HP Pavilion dv9000 has no imaging devices section. It doesn't think the webcam exists. Strange, considering I can see it right in front of me. Integrated into the laptop.
Fair enough, I thought. Fair enough. I shall visit the HP website, do some voodoo magic and see if I can't get this baby up and running again. I did as the HP website said I should do if my webcam disappears upon upgrading to Windows Vista Service Pack 2. Go to imaging devices and...hey! Hang on a second! There is no imaging devices! and your website offers no support for that particular problem. So I did a bit more googling. What a company they are. They helped me in my hour of need. I discovered from a website that I could install an Acer driver for the webcam which would get it working again. The person who provided this advice was an HP user so it seemed like nothing could go wrong. I did as he explained. Installed it, the laptop restarted, I checked Device Manager and THERE IT WAS. Imaging Devices. Like manna from Heaven. I updated my Twitter status in delight! My HP webcam was working! I then updated Facebook too. Boy, how I celebrated. I should really stop mentioning brand names. Apologies again. Very odd though, considering your product told me this video device didn't exist mere minutes earlier.
I loaded up the webcam and there I was. In colour! I looked outrageously stressed (remember, the medical thing earlier) but ultimately relieved. I had fixed my webcam. Now to share this in the only way I knew how. Use the 'cam' on the 'web'. Hello Skype! (Again I am sorry to mention a different brand. I should have apologised for mentioning their name earlier. Please forgive me.) I launched Skype. And then... nothing. Quite literally in nothing in fact. My screen turned black. That was it. Boom. The laptop was done. Now, being an HP user yourself, you probably know this can happen from time to time. The laptop struggles with realising it doesn't have a CD drive or, in this case I suspect, gets excited at finding the webcam again. Not a problem. I wait. Sometime it decides the screen can work again. Not this time though. The Quickplay lights were still on but alas, the screen was done for. So I turn it off.
I wait for a few seconds because that always helps. But I'm afraid this tale doesn't have a happy ending. Waiting a few seconds didn't help at all. In fact, it merely delayed my misery and disappointment in your product once more. Eventually the laptop loaded. I typed in my password and wasn't that bothered at all because hey, I still had my webcam. But like a Father just getting used to having a child, I wanted to check on my baby. So I went to check Imaging Devices. Imaging Devices didn't exist. My webcam was dead. It was gone. Again. This happened about twenty minutes ago now and, to tell you the truth, I still haven't got over the loss. It would be easier to get over if the laptop would at least be honest with me and remove the physical part of the webcam. But no. It says it doesn't exist. It did exist. It does exist. I can see it now, and the memories I shared with it. That final blue flicker. The way it lit me up that one last time before your product self destructed and decided the consumer had no need for it's services.
Well I do have need for it's services. I'm not asking for a miracle. At least, I don't think I am. I am simply reaching out to you in my time of need. Where the hell does the Imaging Devices and webcam disappear to? I'd really appreciate it if you could give the gift of life back to my little integrated webcam. We shared some great times together and in my heart, I hope there are still more great times to come. In all seriousness though, I am not sure that is hope I am feeling in my heart but stress. Stress riding on a wave of anger, annoyance and disbelief at HP and their laptop model by the name of the Pavilion dv9000. In particular, the one I own.
Thank you for taking the time to read this and if you smiled or laughed at any part of this email, remember schadenfreude exists and that you are taking pleasure from my suffering. I am simply glad that my webcam didn't live to sense that this has occurred. I'd love for it to live a little longer in the future though so if you could sort out my problem, that'd be great.
Kind regards,
Henry Fosdike
Space
For the past few days I have been unable to avoid space conversations. I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe I am in my own version of The Truman Show and the producers are trying to subconsciously tell me something. Either way, in the past five days, not including today, the subject has cropped up on no less than four occasions. Add in the fact I'm rocking and rolling with a script idea about time travel and physics and the possibility thereof, I am quite frankly filled with facts on space.
It all started on Sunday, when I caught Chris Addison talking on Something for the Weekend about the 1969 Moon landing. He said he was pretty pissed off with people claiming they weren't real. Fair enough. Sunday evening and the subject cropped up again. Again about the 1969 Moon landing and the debate between friends on whether they occurred or not. I argued it would be pointless to fake.
Funnily enough, my thought process came to fruition in the form of Mitchell and Webb's latest sketch on space in their sketch show on Tuesday night. Then last night, my brother and I spoke about space for some reason. So that's the background story. Sheesh, it's probably going to be longer than the actual point of the post. Either way this is my basic question, after thinking long and hard about space.
Why? Why do it? What's the point? I can understand whacking rockets out in the 60's and 70's but we've put the satellites there now. That'll do. I'm content. My phone works. As does the TV. You can stop. I'm suitably impressed and suitably happy. Well done science. Now let's focus on something else. I get that there are stars out there. I get that there are loads of stars out there. I get that we know fuck all about most of them. But that's okay. I don't mind knowing fuck all about most of them because they don't affect my life in any way. Chances are, they never will. I'll admit that telescopes can be useful to watch them and make sure nothing comes straight for us. But everything else? Let's just stop and spend the money on something else.
My friend the other day, let's call him Mike as that is his name, he told another friend that there is no point in landing on the moon again. We've done it. So he delighted in telling me we had gone to Mars instead. "Why?" I asked. "Because," He said with excitement in his eyes, "There is a very high probability that there is water on Mars." I fail to see how this can excite anyway. Give a shit. There's water here. If it's water NASA are looking for, then they should come to me. I know loads of places to find it. I know, I know. But it could show that life is possible on Mars! Well, why bother finding evidence of water? Why not just whack a robot up there with a tub of ice, or a ice cream box full of water? Dump it there and let's go. Return in ten years and see what's going on. Even then, I wouldn't advise to talk with whoever happens to be there on our return.
As well as attempting to fraternise with aliens we may discover on Mars in future, the whole space programme are currently going one step further and broadcasting to any alien life that happen to be out there. I believe contained within a small capsule are also basic drawings of what we look like. A hand drawn diagram of a man and a hand drawn diagram of a woman. And then probably a hand drawn diagram of Stephen Hawking. Drawn by Stephen himself. I tell a lie. Stephen's no artist. I think some sums and basic history are on there too. So that when aliens come across it they go, 'Ah that's cool. Let's visit them.' Oh did I forget to mention, we have the co-ordinates of where exactly Earth is on this piece of paper. It's probably more advanced that paper but either way, whatever this thing is has our details on it. So when aliens find it they can turn up. Thing is, I don't think we should probably be looking for aliens. Because if aliens find us first, they are probably cleverer than us and more advanced. And the human race has proved that when you're more advanced than someone else there is only one thing to do. Kill it.
Luckily for us though, aliens haven't yet done that. There are two reasons for this. Three if you count them not existing at all, which is a tad short-sighted when you consider there are billions and billions of stars, each surrounded by rocks otherwise known as planets. Chances are one will be like Earth, right? That's just basic probability. So really there are only two reasons that we have not yet been destroyed by aliens. And it's mainly down to their mode of transport.
From what I can gather aliens are pretty advanced species. We've seen their UFO's in the sky on how many photo's? Loads. We've also heard eye-witness accounts from a bunch of people too. When they happen to be out in the woods and see the alien, or when they were flying for the US Air force. Thing is, we have never made contact with these aliens in the vicinity of Earth, so they probably live pretty far away. This means they have come one hell of a distance to find us, with technology beyond our wildest dreams. And yet they have two problems from what I can gather. Despite finding us in amongst all the other planets, having travelled light years to be with us, they are either shy, or they forgot to put brakes on their ship. They either never land or they crash land. There's no in between from these folk. It's like they built their space ships with ten Stephen Hawking's, then decided a competition winner should drive it. Either that or they find us, look down and realise we probably weren't worth the effort. Imagine the disappointment on that ship. They presumably see our planet and vocalise their problem. "Haha! Look at that! they still use water! Mental... Even Mars doesn't use water any more."
I've basically assumed we are so worthless in the whole Universe that we just aren't even worth invading. We are kind of like the Electric Light Company in Monopoly. It seems like it's worth it but in hindsight, you should have just kept your money and stayed at home. Either that or we are so poor that we are a tourist attraction for passing alien races, to look down at the idiots of Earth. "And down there is Earth. they still think you need bacteria for life to exist and evolve." And oh, how the spaceship does laugh.
Well, I hope you enjoyed that. If you didn't, I am sorry for wasting your time as we hurtle through space on this planet going nowhere in particular. So why not kill some of that time spent going nowhere in particular by seeing the show I have written and am in called Charm//Offensive at the Newsroom from 15th-23rd August at Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Admission is free. And you may get a gift too. It'll be a sketch-show based riot from quarter past midnight to 1am every night. Do it. You know you want to.
Over and out.
It all started on Sunday, when I caught Chris Addison talking on Something for the Weekend about the 1969 Moon landing. He said he was pretty pissed off with people claiming they weren't real. Fair enough. Sunday evening and the subject cropped up again. Again about the 1969 Moon landing and the debate between friends on whether they occurred or not. I argued it would be pointless to fake.
Funnily enough, my thought process came to fruition in the form of Mitchell and Webb's latest sketch on space in their sketch show on Tuesday night. Then last night, my brother and I spoke about space for some reason. So that's the background story. Sheesh, it's probably going to be longer than the actual point of the post. Either way this is my basic question, after thinking long and hard about space.
Why? Why do it? What's the point? I can understand whacking rockets out in the 60's and 70's but we've put the satellites there now. That'll do. I'm content. My phone works. As does the TV. You can stop. I'm suitably impressed and suitably happy. Well done science. Now let's focus on something else. I get that there are stars out there. I get that there are loads of stars out there. I get that we know fuck all about most of them. But that's okay. I don't mind knowing fuck all about most of them because they don't affect my life in any way. Chances are, they never will. I'll admit that telescopes can be useful to watch them and make sure nothing comes straight for us. But everything else? Let's just stop and spend the money on something else.
My friend the other day, let's call him Mike as that is his name, he told another friend that there is no point in landing on the moon again. We've done it. So he delighted in telling me we had gone to Mars instead. "Why?" I asked. "Because," He said with excitement in his eyes, "There is a very high probability that there is water on Mars." I fail to see how this can excite anyway. Give a shit. There's water here. If it's water NASA are looking for, then they should come to me. I know loads of places to find it. I know, I know. But it could show that life is possible on Mars! Well, why bother finding evidence of water? Why not just whack a robot up there with a tub of ice, or a ice cream box full of water? Dump it there and let's go. Return in ten years and see what's going on. Even then, I wouldn't advise to talk with whoever happens to be there on our return.
As well as attempting to fraternise with aliens we may discover on Mars in future, the whole space programme are currently going one step further and broadcasting to any alien life that happen to be out there. I believe contained within a small capsule are also basic drawings of what we look like. A hand drawn diagram of a man and a hand drawn diagram of a woman. And then probably a hand drawn diagram of Stephen Hawking. Drawn by Stephen himself. I tell a lie. Stephen's no artist. I think some sums and basic history are on there too. So that when aliens come across it they go, 'Ah that's cool. Let's visit them.' Oh did I forget to mention, we have the co-ordinates of where exactly Earth is on this piece of paper. It's probably more advanced that paper but either way, whatever this thing is has our details on it. So when aliens find it they can turn up. Thing is, I don't think we should probably be looking for aliens. Because if aliens find us first, they are probably cleverer than us and more advanced. And the human race has proved that when you're more advanced than someone else there is only one thing to do. Kill it.
Luckily for us though, aliens haven't yet done that. There are two reasons for this. Three if you count them not existing at all, which is a tad short-sighted when you consider there are billions and billions of stars, each surrounded by rocks otherwise known as planets. Chances are one will be like Earth, right? That's just basic probability. So really there are only two reasons that we have not yet been destroyed by aliens. And it's mainly down to their mode of transport.
From what I can gather aliens are pretty advanced species. We've seen their UFO's in the sky on how many photo's? Loads. We've also heard eye-witness accounts from a bunch of people too. When they happen to be out in the woods and see the alien, or when they were flying for the US Air force. Thing is, we have never made contact with these aliens in the vicinity of Earth, so they probably live pretty far away. This means they have come one hell of a distance to find us, with technology beyond our wildest dreams. And yet they have two problems from what I can gather. Despite finding us in amongst all the other planets, having travelled light years to be with us, they are either shy, or they forgot to put brakes on their ship. They either never land or they crash land. There's no in between from these folk. It's like they built their space ships with ten Stephen Hawking's, then decided a competition winner should drive it. Either that or they find us, look down and realise we probably weren't worth the effort. Imagine the disappointment on that ship. They presumably see our planet and vocalise their problem. "Haha! Look at that! they still use water! Mental... Even Mars doesn't use water any more."
I've basically assumed we are so worthless in the whole Universe that we just aren't even worth invading. We are kind of like the Electric Light Company in Monopoly. It seems like it's worth it but in hindsight, you should have just kept your money and stayed at home. Either that or we are so poor that we are a tourist attraction for passing alien races, to look down at the idiots of Earth. "And down there is Earth. they still think you need bacteria for life to exist and evolve." And oh, how the spaceship does laugh.
Well, I hope you enjoyed that. If you didn't, I am sorry for wasting your time as we hurtle through space on this planet going nowhere in particular. So why not kill some of that time spent going nowhere in particular by seeing the show I have written and am in called Charm//Offensive at the Newsroom from 15th-23rd August at Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Admission is free. And you may get a gift too. It'll be a sketch-show based riot from quarter past midnight to 1am every night. Do it. You know you want to.
Over and out.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Dear J D Wetherspoon...
Hello customer service team,
I hope you are all having a good day. I am writing to simply enquire why on Earth the Mary Shelley pub in Bournemouth has a 'no trainers' policy on a Saturday night. It's extremely odd considering it is essentially just a pub. The Moon in the Square nearby doesn't have this policy and neither does the Christopher Creeke. In fact, neither do any of the other clubs nearby who I would perhaps expect to have a 'no trainers' policy. So why do you? It makes very little sense in my opinion and this is for three rather brilliant reasons.
The first is that trainers actually have more grip on those slippery floors. If you're a pub then you shouldn't really have a slippery floor anyway but many clubs do. If you are a club then surely wearing trainers is fantastic for health and safety. You can thank me when you change your policy and thus prevent any unfortunate hospital related incidents.
The second reason is that many people around us were wearing what can only be described as a millennium shell suit. A kind of 2010 version of its 1980's predecessor. Hoodies were worn as well but because they wore some fairly nice shoes they were allowed in. So if this is an image thing, which I think it probably is, why did the bouncers let these people in? Very odd.
My third and final reason is probably the best reason of all. You know when you walk into an establishment, say a shop or a hospital or even a pub like in this case, and instantly look to the floor making sure to take in what everyone is wearing on their feet? No? Yeah, neither do I or anyone I know. I can honestly say that upon entering a pub or club I have never taken note of what anybody is wearing on their feet. This is because the bar isn't at foot level but eye level. Why would anyone look around at what is on people's feet? It's the most ridiculous rule I've ever heard in my life. If I did look at the footwear of everybody else in any given establishment, I very much doubt I'd freak out over a pair of trainers either. My reaction would probably be 'fair enough'. I think 99% of people would have this reaction as well so why do you even enforce this policy?
I look forward to hearing your feedback on all three of my reasons for removing this rule. If you can suggest a decent comeback for all three of my points then fair enough but remember if you contest the first reason then you are essentially saying you don't care about the health and safety of your customers. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.
That is all for now. Don't even get me started on the differing prices for sausages, chips and beans around the country...
Kind regards,
Henry Fosdike
I hope you are all having a good day. I am writing to simply enquire why on Earth the Mary Shelley pub in Bournemouth has a 'no trainers' policy on a Saturday night. It's extremely odd considering it is essentially just a pub. The Moon in the Square nearby doesn't have this policy and neither does the Christopher Creeke. In fact, neither do any of the other clubs nearby who I would perhaps expect to have a 'no trainers' policy. So why do you? It makes very little sense in my opinion and this is for three rather brilliant reasons.
The first is that trainers actually have more grip on those slippery floors. If you're a pub then you shouldn't really have a slippery floor anyway but many clubs do. If you are a club then surely wearing trainers is fantastic for health and safety. You can thank me when you change your policy and thus prevent any unfortunate hospital related incidents.
The second reason is that many people around us were wearing what can only be described as a millennium shell suit. A kind of 2010 version of its 1980's predecessor. Hoodies were worn as well but because they wore some fairly nice shoes they were allowed in. So if this is an image thing, which I think it probably is, why did the bouncers let these people in? Very odd.
My third and final reason is probably the best reason of all. You know when you walk into an establishment, say a shop or a hospital or even a pub like in this case, and instantly look to the floor making sure to take in what everyone is wearing on their feet? No? Yeah, neither do I or anyone I know. I can honestly say that upon entering a pub or club I have never taken note of what anybody is wearing on their feet. This is because the bar isn't at foot level but eye level. Why would anyone look around at what is on people's feet? It's the most ridiculous rule I've ever heard in my life. If I did look at the footwear of everybody else in any given establishment, I very much doubt I'd freak out over a pair of trainers either. My reaction would probably be 'fair enough'. I think 99% of people would have this reaction as well so why do you even enforce this policy?
I look forward to hearing your feedback on all three of my reasons for removing this rule. If you can suggest a decent comeback for all three of my points then fair enough but remember if you contest the first reason then you are essentially saying you don't care about the health and safety of your customers. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.
That is all for now. Don't even get me started on the differing prices for sausages, chips and beans around the country...
Kind regards,
Henry Fosdike
Saturday, 3 July 2010
iCash
Steve Jobs is halfway through an Apple keynote conference.
“Well, we have shown you the new iPod touch, the new iPhone and the new iPad. “What else is there?” I hear you ask. Well, that’s right, I am now going to show you the completely revamped and redesigned Apple iTunes store. “In what ways has it changed?” I hear you ask. Well aside from the obvious aesthetic change which you see before you, you may also have noticed a different constant throughout the page. If you can’t see it then look a little closer at the price of the products. It’s not a dollar symbol or a pound sign if you are within the United Kingdom. No, this is a completely new currency which Apple has developed. I give you iCash.
iCash is the currency which will now be using at the Apple iTunes store. It is safer, more secure and easier to understand than any other currency on the market. What’s more, it is a virtual currency, so any fraud that takes place online, stays online. We at Apple value your custom and as such make sure that real money stays in the real world. Think about it. It makes sense, doesn’t it? If you crashed a plane in the virtual world on a Flight Simulator and a number of lives were lost, you wouldn’t want that to also apply in the real world, would you? No. Well Apple are doing the same thing with money. We are keeping the real world and virtual world separate with iCash.
“So how exactly does iCash work?” I’m sensing a few of you have that question in your minds right now, so I shall answer it. It’s all very straightforward. You sign up to Apple with your real life bank account, like any other store. You then purchase iCash in the form of credits. One dollar will give you 10 iCash credits. These can then be used to purchase any item in the Apple iTunes store. Prices start at 10 credits for a popular song or application, like Angry Birds for example, right through to whatever is the most expensive application at the moment. You choose the amount of real life money to change into iCash and the store will calculate the rest. After you spend 100 credits, you get 1 credit back, to use again on the store. Simply, we are rewarding the loyal Apple customers with iCashback and this revolutionary new secure form of payment. iCash. It’s the future.
It will of course soon be possible to use iCash in any real life Apple store as well. For a small fee of 10 iCash credits, we will allow you to transfer your iCash from the store to any Apple product such as the iPhone, iPod touch or iPad. This can then be scanned at the Apple store as payment for your new Apple purchase be it an iMac or an Apple TV. Once iCash becomes the main form of payment within just one Apple store, we will support what the customers clearly want and change every store to only accept iCash at the stores.
iCash will help us progress as a company and hopefully you can see the benefits of this new system. It is our intention that as iCash is used more and more often, we will build not just Apple stores but an Apple bank, the iBank, which it will soon be necessary to have an account with, in order to continue to buy anything from Apple, be it a song or a Macbook. We then hope to create an iVillage showcasing all the latest uses of Apple technology. iCash will then help to expand this iVillage into an iTown and then a city. We have already entered into an agreement with a country from the third world to bring it into the first world and amongst the Apple family. This is my next big announcement today ladies and gentlemen, Apple are now the proud owners of the capital city of Turkey. We call it iStanbul and Apple iCash will be the only form of currency accepted in the city once we witness a need from the customers. This loyal fan base will again benefit from our company’s promise to listen to their views and when just one iStanbul resident requests the change, we will make it happen.
Over time, we hope that iStanbul will prosper and it is our belief that the benefits of iCash will help the rest of Turkey join the scheme. We will then look at other cities around the globe to join the Apple family and make it a truly wonderful place which the whole world can enjoy. After iStanbul, we hope that next year we will be able to announce that iCash is now accepted not just in Turkey but also in iOwa City in the US, iBiza in Spain, iWo Jima in Japan and hopefully Manchester in England will agree to be renamed MacChester, but we do not currently have confirmation of that just yet. Following perceived successes in the areas, iCash will spread out into these countries, thus becoming the primary currency in five different countries.
At this point we will move the iCity regime as we have called it, from beta testing into full working order and change not just a single city’s currency, but switch a whole country to iCash with the start of the iCountry scheme. iRaq, iRan, iVory Coast and iTaly in Europe are all within our sights. With iRan and iRaq in particular, we hope that the use of iCash will help solve any current disputes that happen to be ongoing as of this moment in time. It is Apple’s belief that iCash can do this as long as all countries agree to get involved and hopefully iCash will then take over from the unstable dollar, pound and euro as the world’s premier currency. We will of course discuss iCash further at the next Apple keynote but to put it in a nutshell for everyone, iCash is simply Apple’s way of thanking the loyal fan base that have supported us for so many years, by offering them a faster and more user friendly experience in this post-recession world.
So that’s iCash. An apple thank-you. Your money. Our way.”
“Well, we have shown you the new iPod touch, the new iPhone and the new iPad. “What else is there?” I hear you ask. Well, that’s right, I am now going to show you the completely revamped and redesigned Apple iTunes store. “In what ways has it changed?” I hear you ask. Well aside from the obvious aesthetic change which you see before you, you may also have noticed a different constant throughout the page. If you can’t see it then look a little closer at the price of the products. It’s not a dollar symbol or a pound sign if you are within the United Kingdom. No, this is a completely new currency which Apple has developed. I give you iCash.
iCash is the currency which will now be using at the Apple iTunes store. It is safer, more secure and easier to understand than any other currency on the market. What’s more, it is a virtual currency, so any fraud that takes place online, stays online. We at Apple value your custom and as such make sure that real money stays in the real world. Think about it. It makes sense, doesn’t it? If you crashed a plane in the virtual world on a Flight Simulator and a number of lives were lost, you wouldn’t want that to also apply in the real world, would you? No. Well Apple are doing the same thing with money. We are keeping the real world and virtual world separate with iCash.
“So how exactly does iCash work?” I’m sensing a few of you have that question in your minds right now, so I shall answer it. It’s all very straightforward. You sign up to Apple with your real life bank account, like any other store. You then purchase iCash in the form of credits. One dollar will give you 10 iCash credits. These can then be used to purchase any item in the Apple iTunes store. Prices start at 10 credits for a popular song or application, like Angry Birds for example, right through to whatever is the most expensive application at the moment. You choose the amount of real life money to change into iCash and the store will calculate the rest. After you spend 100 credits, you get 1 credit back, to use again on the store. Simply, we are rewarding the loyal Apple customers with iCashback and this revolutionary new secure form of payment. iCash. It’s the future.
It will of course soon be possible to use iCash in any real life Apple store as well. For a small fee of 10 iCash credits, we will allow you to transfer your iCash from the store to any Apple product such as the iPhone, iPod touch or iPad. This can then be scanned at the Apple store as payment for your new Apple purchase be it an iMac or an Apple TV. Once iCash becomes the main form of payment within just one Apple store, we will support what the customers clearly want and change every store to only accept iCash at the stores.
iCash will help us progress as a company and hopefully you can see the benefits of this new system. It is our intention that as iCash is used more and more often, we will build not just Apple stores but an Apple bank, the iBank, which it will soon be necessary to have an account with, in order to continue to buy anything from Apple, be it a song or a Macbook. We then hope to create an iVillage showcasing all the latest uses of Apple technology. iCash will then help to expand this iVillage into an iTown and then a city. We have already entered into an agreement with a country from the third world to bring it into the first world and amongst the Apple family. This is my next big announcement today ladies and gentlemen, Apple are now the proud owners of the capital city of Turkey. We call it iStanbul and Apple iCash will be the only form of currency accepted in the city once we witness a need from the customers. This loyal fan base will again benefit from our company’s promise to listen to their views and when just one iStanbul resident requests the change, we will make it happen.
Over time, we hope that iStanbul will prosper and it is our belief that the benefits of iCash will help the rest of Turkey join the scheme. We will then look at other cities around the globe to join the Apple family and make it a truly wonderful place which the whole world can enjoy. After iStanbul, we hope that next year we will be able to announce that iCash is now accepted not just in Turkey but also in iOwa City in the US, iBiza in Spain, iWo Jima in Japan and hopefully Manchester in England will agree to be renamed MacChester, but we do not currently have confirmation of that just yet. Following perceived successes in the areas, iCash will spread out into these countries, thus becoming the primary currency in five different countries.
At this point we will move the iCity regime as we have called it, from beta testing into full working order and change not just a single city’s currency, but switch a whole country to iCash with the start of the iCountry scheme. iRaq, iRan, iVory Coast and iTaly in Europe are all within our sights. With iRan and iRaq in particular, we hope that the use of iCash will help solve any current disputes that happen to be ongoing as of this moment in time. It is Apple’s belief that iCash can do this as long as all countries agree to get involved and hopefully iCash will then take over from the unstable dollar, pound and euro as the world’s premier currency. We will of course discuss iCash further at the next Apple keynote but to put it in a nutshell for everyone, iCash is simply Apple’s way of thanking the loyal fan base that have supported us for so many years, by offering them a faster and more user friendly experience in this post-recession world.
So that’s iCash. An apple thank-you. Your money. Our way.”
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
I wish...
I wish I had something funny to update this blog with. I really wish I did. As it happens I am going to run with this, some kind of odd speech on jokes. We'll see how it goes. Currently I have no idea what to write...here goes...
"So...joke are cool aren't they? We like jokes. They make us smile, they make us laugh, they take away that awkward silence in a room.
LONG PAUSE FOR AWKWARD SILENCE IN THE ROOM
...Some jokes you like, some jokes you don't. That's always been the nature of them. Knock, knock jokes, Doctor, doctor jokes. Everything always happens twice in the most particular jokes. Odd. Anyway, there was a joke that I was told a long time ago that went something like this: If a red house is made of red bricks, a yellow house is made of yellow bricks and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made out of? Inevitably, you would respond with green bricks. And they'd go, "Nope! Glass! Ha!" And you'd feel like a lemon.
I don't really hold that many grudges. Like everyone I get a little despondent about certain things from time to time but grudges I'm kind of...too lazy to deal with. But I have held a grudge against that joke for a long time. And now I am older and I don't see the children I used to hang out with...last year (genius line!)...just kidding...i still see them but their parents aren't aware anymore (And there's the follow up!) ...Sorry I digressed for comic effect. But anyway now I am older and I don't see any of my childhood buddies, I feel I can revolt on this one.
Green bricks is one of the correct answers to that question. I'm sorry but it is. nobody should be berated for saying a green house is made of green bricks. Just because there is an item called a greenhouse that is made out of glass, if I went down a road with anybody and we saw a house made of green bricks, I wouldn't react strangely if my friend went "Oh look a green house!" I wouldn't laugh, I wouldn't cajole him (great word) for using the words green and house for a different item to that of the glass based heat gatherer for plants...I would probably go, "Oh yeah."
If you said, "Come to my house, it's the green house on the street." I wouldn't drive past all the houses looking for a transparent glass structure. I'd probably look for the stupidly painted house. That leaps out at me because it has been unwisely painted green.
So in conclusion, if I have any children in the future, and my child walks up to me and says, "Daddy, if a red house is made of red bricks, a yellow house is made of yellow bricks and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made out of?" I shall reply, "Green bricks." And as soon as he utters, "No-" I shall slap him around the face. It'll be for his own good.
The moral of this story is... learn to let jokes go and social services probably won't bother you in the future. It's too late for me so save yourselves whilst you can."
So yeah...I wasn't even planning on writing all that.
I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, come and see the show I have written and am performing in and generally arranged with my co-star, Sophie, at Edinburgh Fringe Festival, 15th-23rd August at the Newsroom. Quarter past midnight until one in the morning. Yeah!
"So...joke are cool aren't they? We like jokes. They make us smile, they make us laugh, they take away that awkward silence in a room.
LONG PAUSE FOR AWKWARD SILENCE IN THE ROOM
...Some jokes you like, some jokes you don't. That's always been the nature of them. Knock, knock jokes, Doctor, doctor jokes. Everything always happens twice in the most particular jokes. Odd. Anyway, there was a joke that I was told a long time ago that went something like this: If a red house is made of red bricks, a yellow house is made of yellow bricks and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made out of? Inevitably, you would respond with green bricks. And they'd go, "Nope! Glass! Ha!" And you'd feel like a lemon.
I don't really hold that many grudges. Like everyone I get a little despondent about certain things from time to time but grudges I'm kind of...too lazy to deal with. But I have held a grudge against that joke for a long time. And now I am older and I don't see the children I used to hang out with...last year (genius line!)...just kidding...i still see them but their parents aren't aware anymore (And there's the follow up!) ...Sorry I digressed for comic effect. But anyway now I am older and I don't see any of my childhood buddies, I feel I can revolt on this one.
Green bricks is one of the correct answers to that question. I'm sorry but it is. nobody should be berated for saying a green house is made of green bricks. Just because there is an item called a greenhouse that is made out of glass, if I went down a road with anybody and we saw a house made of green bricks, I wouldn't react strangely if my friend went "Oh look a green house!" I wouldn't laugh, I wouldn't cajole him (great word) for using the words green and house for a different item to that of the glass based heat gatherer for plants...I would probably go, "Oh yeah."
If you said, "Come to my house, it's the green house on the street." I wouldn't drive past all the houses looking for a transparent glass structure. I'd probably look for the stupidly painted house. That leaps out at me because it has been unwisely painted green.
So in conclusion, if I have any children in the future, and my child walks up to me and says, "Daddy, if a red house is made of red bricks, a yellow house is made of yellow bricks and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made out of?" I shall reply, "Green bricks." And as soon as he utters, "No-" I shall slap him around the face. It'll be for his own good.
The moral of this story is... learn to let jokes go and social services probably won't bother you in the future. It's too late for me so save yourselves whilst you can."
So yeah...I wasn't even planning on writing all that.
I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, come and see the show I have written and am performing in and generally arranged with my co-star, Sophie, at Edinburgh Fringe Festival, 15th-23rd August at the Newsroom. Quarter past midnight until one in the morning. Yeah!
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Talking Politics
Apologies for only posting once in June. i am extremely busy with Edinburgh arrangements at the moment so...yeah. Anyway, here is a sketch that myself and Sophie Petzal wrote together which we LOVED but think it may have been too clever for it's own good. See what you think.
Talking Politics
Person 1: Immigrants aren’t good though.
Person 2: Well they need a place to live.
Person 1: Fuck where they need to live. I walked down the street the other day and there were just so many of them. Literally thousands. I mean, do they breed like fucking rabbits? What I’m trying to say is are they copulating as they walk? I literally couldn’t move there were so many of them. I’m not even joking.
Person 2: But they bring in jobs…
Person 1: Fuck them bringing in jobs! We need jobs! I couldn’t find one, could you find one? Not one that I’d want to do anyway. Daddy can only fund me for so long. You’re looking at this all wrong.
Person 2: Well…they help the economy.
Person 1: HELP THE ECONOMY?! FUCK the economy. Have you seen the economy recently. Immigrants have screwed us over. The share price has fallen. Daddy told me so.
Person 2: Well technically, shares fell due to a crisis in investor confidence.
Person 1: Fuck investor confidence! I can’t believe you’re defending them! They’re throwing this country to the dogs. We need these guys out.
Person 2: But…they’ve done well for the arts…and education.
Person 1: Fuck arts and education! We’ve got all this Europe shit going on! We should never have signed that fucking treaty! I tell you the moment you get involved with those in-bred halfwits, our shares go tumbling.
Person 2: But-
Person 1: Fuck but! Look: 1. Immigrants. Too many. Do I need to spell it out for you? Because I’m going to anyway. 2. Jobs. Where the fuck can we get one without those immigrants stealing them? 3. Economy. The share prices are fucked. 4. That treaty. 5. Europe. Don’t you see? DON’T YOU SEE?! I’m telling you, if you don’t vote for Adolf and the Nazis come June 25th, you’re a fool. They’ll sort this country right out. You’ll see. Sieg fucking heil!
...And that was that. We love it. Yet it didn't make it into the show. Shame.
Talking Politics
Person 1: Immigrants aren’t good though.
Person 2: Well they need a place to live.
Person 1: Fuck where they need to live. I walked down the street the other day and there were just so many of them. Literally thousands. I mean, do they breed like fucking rabbits? What I’m trying to say is are they copulating as they walk? I literally couldn’t move there were so many of them. I’m not even joking.
Person 2: But they bring in jobs…
Person 1: Fuck them bringing in jobs! We need jobs! I couldn’t find one, could you find one? Not one that I’d want to do anyway. Daddy can only fund me for so long. You’re looking at this all wrong.
Person 2: Well…they help the economy.
Person 1: HELP THE ECONOMY?! FUCK the economy. Have you seen the economy recently. Immigrants have screwed us over. The share price has fallen. Daddy told me so.
Person 2: Well technically, shares fell due to a crisis in investor confidence.
Person 1: Fuck investor confidence! I can’t believe you’re defending them! They’re throwing this country to the dogs. We need these guys out.
Person 2: But…they’ve done well for the arts…and education.
Person 1: Fuck arts and education! We’ve got all this Europe shit going on! We should never have signed that fucking treaty! I tell you the moment you get involved with those in-bred halfwits, our shares go tumbling.
Person 2: But-
Person 1: Fuck but! Look: 1. Immigrants. Too many. Do I need to spell it out for you? Because I’m going to anyway. 2. Jobs. Where the fuck can we get one without those immigrants stealing them? 3. Economy. The share prices are fucked. 4. That treaty. 5. Europe. Don’t you see? DON’T YOU SEE?! I’m telling you, if you don’t vote for Adolf and the Nazis come June 25th, you’re a fool. They’ll sort this country right out. You’ll see. Sieg fucking heil!
...And that was that. We love it. Yet it didn't make it into the show. Shame.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Pacman Remembered radio sketch
The following is a long sketch I wrote for radio the other day... It does help if you have a basic knowledge of the world of Pacman.
Reg Murphy: Hello and welcome to another all new edition of What’s Behind the Game?, the documentary series which takes a look back at popular gaming series of the past. Tonight we venture forth into the murky world of the popular arcade classic, Pacman. We meet its stars and discuss the goings on of how they made the game. From the outside it appears to be just another video game, but upon removing the exterior and hearing the stories from those involved, a much more interesting picture begins to emerge. Sit back, relax and enjoy their memories of a game fraught with tension from the very start.
Pause and then come into the dialogue as though the person has been talking for a while and his interview has been edited down.
Pink Ghost: ...Yes I was, yes. I remember it vividly, almost like it was yesterday. I went into the room and I saw the costumes laid out there and I remember thinking I had clearly been set up. I was lead to believe when I signed up that I would be a white ghost...
Pink Ghost’s chat fades out.
Interviewer: He seems to think he was meant to be a white ghost.
Pacman: I wouldn’t know. I had nothing to do with the ghost costumes. I simply put on my yellow orb costume and went for it, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if he complained though. I do remember him complaining a lot.
Fade back to Pink Ghost’s interview.
Pink Ghost: I know was a little aggressive at the time perhaps, but I had been conned! They tried to sell my costume as salmon coloured. It’s not, it’s pink. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? And...I think it was clear to me, since meeting the others that I was the ‘joke’ of the pack if you like, never truly accepted and I think they ruined my costume as a result of that.
Fade out...
Red Ghost: I think that’s nonsense.
Interviewer: You think that’s nonsense?
Red Ghost: I do, yes. I do. There was never any malice from me certainly, I can’t speak for the blue ghost or the orange ghost obviously, but from my point of view, there was never any problem that I had with the salmon coloured ghost.
Interviewer: He claims you may have put his white costume with your red costume, in the wash?
Red Ghost: No that’s utterly ridiculous. I had nothing to do with the washing.
Fade out...
Pacman: I think what happened, umm, from what I can gather, at least...is that the costumes of the four ghosts were arranged to be red, white, orange and blue but there was something that happened between the four of them which meant that wasn’t the case.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I was annoyed. I was. I can’t deny it. Have you tried wearing pink in public? You haven’t? Well...
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Has he? I remember that vividly. The costume situation. Yeah. The original wardrobe malfunction as it’s called. But I think I am the only person that genuinely know what that was all about. From memory the blue ghost, was extremely good friends with the developer of the game and when I was looking for my orange costume one day I did over hear their discussion, which I have to say, made a lot of sense to me.
Fade out...
Interviewer: The orange ghost says you may have been to blame for the pink coloured ghost costume?
Blue ghost: Me? I don’t know where he got that from! No! No, it wasn’t me...
Fade out...
Orange Ghost: I remember it vividly. Umm, I was looking for my costume, which was often misplaced by the yellow orb, as we used to call him. And that often made us more aggressive when filming the actual gameplay, it made us more intent to catch him...but I digress, I turned the corner and the blue ghost has some ‘issues’ I think you could say with a white hooded figure chasing down a character who could, if you shortened their name, be referred to as ‘packie’.
Fade out...
Pacman: I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anybody calling me that. No. I wouldn’t have been offended though. Why would I? It’s just a shortened name surely? No, what I used to get offended by was when they would call me
Instant cut to
Pink ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yeah, we did call him that. We did. In hindsight was an extremely stupid thing for a guy in a pink hood to be saying to a character twice his size.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yes. It was great.
Fade out...
Red ghost laughs.
Red ghost: Oh my days! I’d forgotten about that! I had! The rolling yellow boulder. We did call each other a lot of names actually. It was a very difficult production though. Very heated. Very early on, I remember thinking, this guy in yellow is gonna blow. He needs something to calm him down.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: It’s important to remember we were working long hours down there in that maze, with only neon blue lights to guide us, really. I mean once he’d rolled over those floor lights they disappeared. We used to joke that he used to break them rather than the pressure system which would remove the ‘pills’ I believe they are called, from the game.
Fade out...
Pacman: There were a lot of joke about my weight, yes. I was on the verge of leaving at one point but then they agreed to my request to flip the scenario, every now and again and allow me to chase them.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I think he could have been gay. I did think that for a long time and really did worry me, wearing that pink shirt.
Fade out...
Interviewer: I mean, you were the blue ghost anyway.
Blue ghost: I was... exactly!
Fade out...
Red ghost: He did used to complain.
Interviewer: He did?
Red ghost: Well...you have to remember it was different for me. I was wearing red, so the change was noticeable. And orange and salmon were the same. But I don’t think the blue ghost ever wanted to change his cloak over because it was just a different shade of blue.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Annoyed? I was furious! Do you have any idea how easy it is to change over the cloak? And they wanted it done quickly. It just seemed pointless to me, I mean...red to blue, fair enough. Orange or salmon to blue...again, fair enough. But blue to ...blue? And then when caught we had to run back to base, and turn it over again back to our normal colour. So I literally went from blue to blue to blue to blue. Ridiculous. I mean, whose idea was that?
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I did laugh at the time. I did, yes. I found it very funny simply because he then knew what I was going through with my own personal costume problem.
Fade out...
Pacman: It did make him easier to catch than the others, yes. Because sometimes he wouldn’t be able to see which shade he was putting back on. It’s very difficult in that light. Especially towards the end of a level when there wouldn’t be many of the lights left shining.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Was there any sexual tension within the group?
Red ghost: Oh yes. The fruit. The fruit were played by women. Strawberry, cherry, you name it, it was a female. And all of the ghosts used to run about trying to attract their attentions but obviously it was too much of a done deal really.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Yes. The cherries. She was quite a looker. And the strawberry too.
Fade out...
Cherry: We only had eyes for the one character, I think.
Strawberry: Yes. We were young, carefree and to be honest, if you could wander off with the lead singer of a band or the drummer, who would it be?
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Pacman. Everytime. They would always go for the rolling yellow boulder. But then they had more time with him. During the actual gaming part of the production, we had no reason to roll anywhere near the fruit so.. he naturally had an advantage to woo them.
Fade out...
Pacman: It was wonderful! It was! I can’t deny it. Cherry, strawberry, hell sometimes even the kiwi. It was great.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Did you ever have any success with the fruit?
Pink ghost: No. No...but I was wearing a pink hood you have to remember.
Fade out...
Interviewer: One final question to you all. Do you understand how the portal worked from walking out of one side of the maze and ending up instantly on the other?
Cherry: Well, we were the fruit, so I only ever heard about it from pacman.
Fade out...
Strawberry: I saw it once. I did. Kiwi once said she went through it but I don’t think she was telling the truth. We never had any reason to ever go anywhere near it.
Fade out...
Red ghost: I used to love going through there. I really did. I used to imagine myself as some kind of red mist...just...oh I loved it.
Fade out...
Pacman: No. I have no idea how it worked. But the costume used to slow me down. And it was a tight squeeze. The boulder name, looking back, was a fair description. I was huge.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: I think it was just some teleportation device I think. I don’t know. I’m still furious about that blue to blue thing, you’ve reminded me about.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: The tunnel? I have no idea how that worked. I heard rumours that the blue ghost has fixed it or something, but I don’t know. Very impressive piece of engineering though.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: How did the portal device work? Witchcraft. No question, witchcraft. I wouldn’t put it past the red ghost to have created that. He ruined a perfectly costume for me. I mean...salmon?!
Fade out...
Reg Murphy: So there we have it. The cast of pacman talking there about their experiences. That’s all from me, I hope you enjoyed it, but take some pleasure from the sneak preview of next week’s show, which will focus on Pong. Goodnight.
Fade out...
Pong Ball: Yes it pissed me off being the ball! I was whacked left, right, left, right. It was a relief when one of them missed me. A horrible time Horrible.
Reg Murphy: Hello and welcome to another all new edition of What’s Behind the Game?, the documentary series which takes a look back at popular gaming series of the past. Tonight we venture forth into the murky world of the popular arcade classic, Pacman. We meet its stars and discuss the goings on of how they made the game. From the outside it appears to be just another video game, but upon removing the exterior and hearing the stories from those involved, a much more interesting picture begins to emerge. Sit back, relax and enjoy their memories of a game fraught with tension from the very start.
Pause and then come into the dialogue as though the person has been talking for a while and his interview has been edited down.
Pink Ghost: ...Yes I was, yes. I remember it vividly, almost like it was yesterday. I went into the room and I saw the costumes laid out there and I remember thinking I had clearly been set up. I was lead to believe when I signed up that I would be a white ghost...
Pink Ghost’s chat fades out.
Interviewer: He seems to think he was meant to be a white ghost.
Pacman: I wouldn’t know. I had nothing to do with the ghost costumes. I simply put on my yellow orb costume and went for it, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if he complained though. I do remember him complaining a lot.
Fade back to Pink Ghost’s interview.
Pink Ghost: I know was a little aggressive at the time perhaps, but I had been conned! They tried to sell my costume as salmon coloured. It’s not, it’s pink. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? And...I think it was clear to me, since meeting the others that I was the ‘joke’ of the pack if you like, never truly accepted and I think they ruined my costume as a result of that.
Fade out...
Red Ghost: I think that’s nonsense.
Interviewer: You think that’s nonsense?
Red Ghost: I do, yes. I do. There was never any malice from me certainly, I can’t speak for the blue ghost or the orange ghost obviously, but from my point of view, there was never any problem that I had with the salmon coloured ghost.
Interviewer: He claims you may have put his white costume with your red costume, in the wash?
Red Ghost: No that’s utterly ridiculous. I had nothing to do with the washing.
Fade out...
Pacman: I think what happened, umm, from what I can gather, at least...is that the costumes of the four ghosts were arranged to be red, white, orange and blue but there was something that happened between the four of them which meant that wasn’t the case.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I was annoyed. I was. I can’t deny it. Have you tried wearing pink in public? You haven’t? Well...
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Has he? I remember that vividly. The costume situation. Yeah. The original wardrobe malfunction as it’s called. But I think I am the only person that genuinely know what that was all about. From memory the blue ghost, was extremely good friends with the developer of the game and when I was looking for my orange costume one day I did over hear their discussion, which I have to say, made a lot of sense to me.
Fade out...
Interviewer: The orange ghost says you may have been to blame for the pink coloured ghost costume?
Blue ghost: Me? I don’t know where he got that from! No! No, it wasn’t me...
Fade out...
Orange Ghost: I remember it vividly. Umm, I was looking for my costume, which was often misplaced by the yellow orb, as we used to call him. And that often made us more aggressive when filming the actual gameplay, it made us more intent to catch him...but I digress, I turned the corner and the blue ghost has some ‘issues’ I think you could say with a white hooded figure chasing down a character who could, if you shortened their name, be referred to as ‘packie’.
Fade out...
Pacman: I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anybody calling me that. No. I wouldn’t have been offended though. Why would I? It’s just a shortened name surely? No, what I used to get offended by was when they would call me
Instant cut to
Pink ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yeah, we did call him that. We did. In hindsight was an extremely stupid thing for a guy in a pink hood to be saying to a character twice his size.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yes. It was great.
Fade out...
Red ghost laughs.
Red ghost: Oh my days! I’d forgotten about that! I had! The rolling yellow boulder. We did call each other a lot of names actually. It was a very difficult production though. Very heated. Very early on, I remember thinking, this guy in yellow is gonna blow. He needs something to calm him down.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: It’s important to remember we were working long hours down there in that maze, with only neon blue lights to guide us, really. I mean once he’d rolled over those floor lights they disappeared. We used to joke that he used to break them rather than the pressure system which would remove the ‘pills’ I believe they are called, from the game.
Fade out...
Pacman: There were a lot of joke about my weight, yes. I was on the verge of leaving at one point but then they agreed to my request to flip the scenario, every now and again and allow me to chase them.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I think he could have been gay. I did think that for a long time and really did worry me, wearing that pink shirt.
Fade out...
Interviewer: I mean, you were the blue ghost anyway.
Blue ghost: I was... exactly!
Fade out...
Red ghost: He did used to complain.
Interviewer: He did?
Red ghost: Well...you have to remember it was different for me. I was wearing red, so the change was noticeable. And orange and salmon were the same. But I don’t think the blue ghost ever wanted to change his cloak over because it was just a different shade of blue.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Annoyed? I was furious! Do you have any idea how easy it is to change over the cloak? And they wanted it done quickly. It just seemed pointless to me, I mean...red to blue, fair enough. Orange or salmon to blue...again, fair enough. But blue to ...blue? And then when caught we had to run back to base, and turn it over again back to our normal colour. So I literally went from blue to blue to blue to blue. Ridiculous. I mean, whose idea was that?
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I did laugh at the time. I did, yes. I found it very funny simply because he then knew what I was going through with my own personal costume problem.
Fade out...
Pacman: It did make him easier to catch than the others, yes. Because sometimes he wouldn’t be able to see which shade he was putting back on. It’s very difficult in that light. Especially towards the end of a level when there wouldn’t be many of the lights left shining.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Was there any sexual tension within the group?
Red ghost: Oh yes. The fruit. The fruit were played by women. Strawberry, cherry, you name it, it was a female. And all of the ghosts used to run about trying to attract their attentions but obviously it was too much of a done deal really.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Yes. The cherries. She was quite a looker. And the strawberry too.
Fade out...
Cherry: We only had eyes for the one character, I think.
Strawberry: Yes. We were young, carefree and to be honest, if you could wander off with the lead singer of a band or the drummer, who would it be?
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Pacman. Everytime. They would always go for the rolling yellow boulder. But then they had more time with him. During the actual gaming part of the production, we had no reason to roll anywhere near the fruit so.. he naturally had an advantage to woo them.
Fade out...
Pacman: It was wonderful! It was! I can’t deny it. Cherry, strawberry, hell sometimes even the kiwi. It was great.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Did you ever have any success with the fruit?
Pink ghost: No. No...but I was wearing a pink hood you have to remember.
Fade out...
Interviewer: One final question to you all. Do you understand how the portal worked from walking out of one side of the maze and ending up instantly on the other?
Cherry: Well, we were the fruit, so I only ever heard about it from pacman.
Fade out...
Strawberry: I saw it once. I did. Kiwi once said she went through it but I don’t think she was telling the truth. We never had any reason to ever go anywhere near it.
Fade out...
Red ghost: I used to love going through there. I really did. I used to imagine myself as some kind of red mist...just...oh I loved it.
Fade out...
Pacman: No. I have no idea how it worked. But the costume used to slow me down. And it was a tight squeeze. The boulder name, looking back, was a fair description. I was huge.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: I think it was just some teleportation device I think. I don’t know. I’m still furious about that blue to blue thing, you’ve reminded me about.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: The tunnel? I have no idea how that worked. I heard rumours that the blue ghost has fixed it or something, but I don’t know. Very impressive piece of engineering though.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: How did the portal device work? Witchcraft. No question, witchcraft. I wouldn’t put it past the red ghost to have created that. He ruined a perfectly costume for me. I mean...salmon?!
Fade out...
Reg Murphy: So there we have it. The cast of pacman talking there about their experiences. That’s all from me, I hope you enjoyed it, but take some pleasure from the sneak preview of next week’s show, which will focus on Pong. Goodnight.
Fade out...
Pong Ball: Yes it pissed me off being the ball! I was whacked left, right, left, right. It was a relief when one of them missed me. A horrible time Horrible.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Another Hitler based joke thing.
Last night I had a bit of a stand up style joke.
I'll see if I can tell it well.
Basically...it goes like this.
"People always seem to stereotype others based on their creative impulses. Something like 'not a hard worker because they have chosen to have a tattoo on their forehead'. Something like that. But I think this is harsh. I mean it may be true, but you only need to look at one man to prove it wasn't. Adolf Hitler. Look at what he achieved and he was a lazy shaver. Imagine if he wasn't so casual with regards to so many things; so haphazard about his own personal facial hair. Think about what he could have done if he put his mind to it and actually tried once in a while..."
So it was something like that. Basically riffing along the lines of Hitler not shaving meaning he was lazy and what could have been...
Over and out.
I'll see if I can tell it well.
Basically...it goes like this.
"People always seem to stereotype others based on their creative impulses. Something like 'not a hard worker because they have chosen to have a tattoo on their forehead'. Something like that. But I think this is harsh. I mean it may be true, but you only need to look at one man to prove it wasn't. Adolf Hitler. Look at what he achieved and he was a lazy shaver. Imagine if he wasn't so casual with regards to so many things; so haphazard about his own personal facial hair. Think about what he could have done if he put his mind to it and actually tried once in a while..."
So it was something like that. Basically riffing along the lines of Hitler not shaving meaning he was lazy and what could have been...
Over and out.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
The TK Maxx Experience
I should also add that as well as being busy with Edinburgh stuff, I have a new blog on tumblr.
It is simply called, 'The TK Maxx Experience' and maybe when I get round to it, it won't look as rubbish as it currently does. However, it is the content that matters more in a blog, not what it looks like. I believe it was Marlon Brando who said that. Maybe.
Anyway, it gets updated once a day by yours truly, with a photo of something crap that I have photographed in TK Maxx. It was inspired by my post about TK Maxx on March 31st.
Enjoy.
The TK Maxx Experience
It is simply called, 'The TK Maxx Experience' and maybe when I get round to it, it won't look as rubbish as it currently does. However, it is the content that matters more in a blog, not what it looks like. I believe it was Marlon Brando who said that. Maybe.
Anyway, it gets updated once a day by yours truly, with a photo of something crap that I have photographed in TK Maxx. It was inspired by my post about TK Maxx on March 31st.
Enjoy.
The TK Maxx Experience
Just Say Yes
Well, I haven't written anything the past few weeks because I am busy writing the sketches for Edinburgh, which I won't post here because some aren't completed and...yeah.
Anyway, I came up with a novel idea for a 100% complete rape eradication from the world the other day. It could have a a marketing campaign and everything. The slogan is simply, "Just say yes."
If everyone said yes to every request for someone to sleep with them, there would be no rape to speak of and a huge decrease in crime. Genius, I think you'll agree. With absolutely no problems at all.
Alternatively, my other slogan for this campaign was, "Rape them back." in order to give the bullies a taste of their own medicine. both slogans work well I think and were I pushing for PM at the moment, this would be in my manifesto.
Brown, Cameron, Clegg...you know what to do.
Anyway, I came up with a novel idea for a 100% complete rape eradication from the world the other day. It could have a a marketing campaign and everything. The slogan is simply, "Just say yes."
If everyone said yes to every request for someone to sleep with them, there would be no rape to speak of and a huge decrease in crime. Genius, I think you'll agree. With absolutely no problems at all.
Alternatively, my other slogan for this campaign was, "Rape them back." in order to give the bullies a taste of their own medicine. both slogans work well I think and were I pushing for PM at the moment, this would be in my manifesto.
Brown, Cameron, Clegg...you know what to do.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
TK Maxx
When I was in year 10 I think it was, we had to fill out a form on some computer programme which told us what job would be perfect for us when we left school. This computer programme, which I seem to remember was called Kudos, decided that the perfect job for me was Sign Maker. That's right, someone that had just decided in his options to give up anything DT related, and had also given up Art, would be right at home in a job which, if I rose far up the sign making ladder, could eventually land me a massive £19,000 a year. Naturally, I still salivate at the thought of this career. Second place if you were wondering, went to me becoming a Stage/Floor Manager at a Theatre or Television Studio. That was a pretty good call by Kudos, to be fair. I'm at least interested in that kind of industry.
Anyway, back to the point. What I am wondering dear reader, is what the hell did the guy who has the easiest job in the world get? I don't really care obviously, it just links in nicely for me to tell you what the easiest job in the world must be. If you are wondering what the easiest job in the world is, it is quite simply Head Buyer for TK Maxx. Or maybe Chief of Sales. I don't know what the exact job title would be but he or she undoubtedly has the easiest job in the world.
If you are unfamiliar with TK Maxx, it is a shop which for the most part, has the highest turnover of complete crap you have ever seen. My Auntie thinks it is brilliant for its cheap clothes. but 99.9% of clothes in TK Maxx are horrendous. The reason they are there and selling below RRP is because nobody else wanted them. The thing is with TK Maxx, and its supporters, is that they only ever mention the clothes, forgetting that at least a quarter of the store is made up of other completely useless shit.
Whenever I go in there, I generally flick through a couple of T-Shirts, note they are all still completely defunct of any redeeming features, and then I head to Africa. Before visiting the garden. And then the library. And then Toys 'R' Us. All within one aisle of each other. The last time I was there I looked at some funky African style tribal mask (made in Spain!), a stone snail for the garden, a book by Chantelle from Celebrity Big Brother a few years ago and then some Wizard gaming figures which comprised of 3 characters in robes which all looked suspiciously like another far more famous wizard franchise. Still...only £5.99!
My question is ... who buys this crap? I mean, really? Really? REALLY?! The fact it was in the store means that people do clearly buy this stuff and although it has no redeeming value whatsoever, does sell. Thus, I can only assume the Head Buyer for TK Maxx has the easiest job of all time. I assume he buys stuff on a simple question and answer survey:
1. Would they buy it for themselves?
Yes - Pass.
No - Proceed to question two.
2. Does it have any redeeming qualities?
Yes - Pass.
No - Buy it for TK Maxx.
I assume that is how items are bought in bulk for TK Maxx. I could be wrong, he may just ask the seller to describe it and if they start with, "Well, it's a bit shit really..." Then it gets added to the company credit card.
So there you go. Head Buyer of TK Maxx. They sell crap. As a result, it's the easiest job in the world.
Anyway, back to the point. What I am wondering dear reader, is what the hell did the guy who has the easiest job in the world get? I don't really care obviously, it just links in nicely for me to tell you what the easiest job in the world must be. If you are wondering what the easiest job in the world is, it is quite simply Head Buyer for TK Maxx. Or maybe Chief of Sales. I don't know what the exact job title would be but he or she undoubtedly has the easiest job in the world.
If you are unfamiliar with TK Maxx, it is a shop which for the most part, has the highest turnover of complete crap you have ever seen. My Auntie thinks it is brilliant for its cheap clothes. but 99.9% of clothes in TK Maxx are horrendous. The reason they are there and selling below RRP is because nobody else wanted them. The thing is with TK Maxx, and its supporters, is that they only ever mention the clothes, forgetting that at least a quarter of the store is made up of other completely useless shit.
Whenever I go in there, I generally flick through a couple of T-Shirts, note they are all still completely defunct of any redeeming features, and then I head to Africa. Before visiting the garden. And then the library. And then Toys 'R' Us. All within one aisle of each other. The last time I was there I looked at some funky African style tribal mask (made in Spain!), a stone snail for the garden, a book by Chantelle from Celebrity Big Brother a few years ago and then some Wizard gaming figures which comprised of 3 characters in robes which all looked suspiciously like another far more famous wizard franchise. Still...only £5.99!
My question is ... who buys this crap? I mean, really? Really? REALLY?! The fact it was in the store means that people do clearly buy this stuff and although it has no redeeming value whatsoever, does sell. Thus, I can only assume the Head Buyer for TK Maxx has the easiest job of all time. I assume he buys stuff on a simple question and answer survey:
1. Would they buy it for themselves?
Yes - Pass.
No - Proceed to question two.
2. Does it have any redeeming qualities?
Yes - Pass.
No - Buy it for TK Maxx.
I assume that is how items are bought in bulk for TK Maxx. I could be wrong, he may just ask the seller to describe it and if they start with, "Well, it's a bit shit really..." Then it gets added to the company credit card.
So there you go. Head Buyer of TK Maxx. They sell crap. As a result, it's the easiest job in the world.
Friday, 26 March 2010
The Australians
Here is a sketch about stereotypes...
Steve: All right Bruce?
Bruce: Ah, g’day Steve. How’s it going?
Steve: Not great. I just read an article about how people stereotype Australia.
Bruce: Oh i hate that. They have these ideas about us and...hey can I get you a beer?
Steve: Ah cheers man. Fosters?
Bruce: Or 4X.
Steve: Nah, Fosters for me.
Bruce: There ya go.
Steve: Ta.
Bruce: So stereotyping?
Steve: Yeah...oh I’ve just noticed your hat.
Bruce: Ah check out those corks. Quality, eh?
Steve: It’s great! So how’s Sheila?
Bruce: She’s good, yeah...oh hang on that reminds me. Sheila! Could you put some more shrimp on the barbie?
Steve: And the kids?
Bruce: They’re great. Out every day with our kangaroo, Skippy. Solving crimes, that sort of thing.
Steve: Oh that’s cool.
Bruce: So what about you?
Steve: I'm going to watch Crocodile Dundee later.
Bruce: Nice! I love Crocodile Dundee. Great documentary.
Steve: I’ve also got my trip to Uluru tomorrow with the family. Meet the old Aborigines.
Bruce: Yeah! Nice. I love Ayers Rock. And how’s Sheila?
Steve: She’s fantastic. Absolute ripper. She’s swimming with Flipper at the moment and then tomorrow when I’m at Uluru, she’s going to be singing at the Opera House.
Bruce: Oh that’s cool!
Steve: With our old mate Rolf Harris!
Bruce: Awesome!
Steve: Yeah, not before we see the little one play the Dame Edna 7th Annual Beach Volleyball tournament though. Should be cool.
Bruce: Excellent. So anyway have you been watching the cricket? Or the rugby?
Steve: No, Sheila’s been addicted to bloody Neighbours and Home & Away the past few days. Plus the koala’s keeping us up. It’s just not getting on with the platypus at all.
Bruce: Ah that’s a shame.
American: G’day boys!
Steve: See this is what I mean!
Bruce: Stereotyping! We never say that. I suppose you think we have knives like these on us all the time too.
American: Ha! That’s not a knife! This is a knife!
Steve: What? Jesus! That’s a gun! Get your podgy finger away from it!
American: Huh?
BANG
Steve: All right Bruce?
Bruce: Ah, g’day Steve. How’s it going?
Steve: Not great. I just read an article about how people stereotype Australia.
Bruce: Oh i hate that. They have these ideas about us and...hey can I get you a beer?
Steve: Ah cheers man. Fosters?
Bruce: Or 4X.
Steve: Nah, Fosters for me.
Bruce: There ya go.
Steve: Ta.
Bruce: So stereotyping?
Steve: Yeah...oh I’ve just noticed your hat.
Bruce: Ah check out those corks. Quality, eh?
Steve: It’s great! So how’s Sheila?
Bruce: She’s good, yeah...oh hang on that reminds me. Sheila! Could you put some more shrimp on the barbie?
Steve: And the kids?
Bruce: They’re great. Out every day with our kangaroo, Skippy. Solving crimes, that sort of thing.
Steve: Oh that’s cool.
Bruce: So what about you?
Steve: I'm going to watch Crocodile Dundee later.
Bruce: Nice! I love Crocodile Dundee. Great documentary.
Steve: I’ve also got my trip to Uluru tomorrow with the family. Meet the old Aborigines.
Bruce: Yeah! Nice. I love Ayers Rock. And how’s Sheila?
Steve: She’s fantastic. Absolute ripper. She’s swimming with Flipper at the moment and then tomorrow when I’m at Uluru, she’s going to be singing at the Opera House.
Bruce: Oh that’s cool!
Steve: With our old mate Rolf Harris!
Bruce: Awesome!
Steve: Yeah, not before we see the little one play the Dame Edna 7th Annual Beach Volleyball tournament though. Should be cool.
Bruce: Excellent. So anyway have you been watching the cricket? Or the rugby?
Steve: No, Sheila’s been addicted to bloody Neighbours and Home & Away the past few days. Plus the koala’s keeping us up. It’s just not getting on with the platypus at all.
Bruce: Ah that’s a shame.
American: G’day boys!
Steve: See this is what I mean!
Bruce: Stereotyping! We never say that. I suppose you think we have knives like these on us all the time too.
American: Ha! That’s not a knife! This is a knife!
Steve: What? Jesus! That’s a gun! Get your podgy finger away from it!
American: Huh?
BANG
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
The Best Invention Of All Time
A while ago, I was sitting with my brother (that shows it was a while ago; he doesn't live with me anymore) and we were watching something on TV when I had a thought. It wasn't particularly interesting but I thought I'd ask my brother for his opinion on the matter.
So I casually asked him what was the best invention of all time. My answer was pretty good, so he'd have to go some way to top it. If you can think up one now then that'd be cool. Play along at home. Just have a think.
Anyway, he thought for a moment. And by a moment, I mean a good 30 seconds of contemplation. Before delivering an epic speech that I was not expecting.
"Time." He said finally.
Yes, he can be a clever little shit sometimes.
He went on... "Because, think about it. There is no such thing as time really. I mean there is, but no way of measuring it. We invented that. We came up with seconds and minutes and hours. How long does it take to get somewhere? Time. How old we are. Time. How long something takes to cook. Time." He went on in this vain for far too long and my mind wandered for his last few minutes praising the advent of time.
My mind only reconnected with the real world when he had finished and I had him utter, "why, what were you thinking?"
Now, before I tell you my answer, I don't think it needs to be explained. When compared to my brother's answer it may not really look as though I had put as much thought into my own question as he had, but in its own way, I still admire my almost naive approach to conjuring up what I believed (at least prior to asking my brother), to be the best invention of all time.
What was my answer I here you ask?
A toaster.
So I casually asked him what was the best invention of all time. My answer was pretty good, so he'd have to go some way to top it. If you can think up one now then that'd be cool. Play along at home. Just have a think.
Anyway, he thought for a moment. And by a moment, I mean a good 30 seconds of contemplation. Before delivering an epic speech that I was not expecting.
"Time." He said finally.
Yes, he can be a clever little shit sometimes.
He went on... "Because, think about it. There is no such thing as time really. I mean there is, but no way of measuring it. We invented that. We came up with seconds and minutes and hours. How long does it take to get somewhere? Time. How old we are. Time. How long something takes to cook. Time." He went on in this vain for far too long and my mind wandered for his last few minutes praising the advent of time.
My mind only reconnected with the real world when he had finished and I had him utter, "why, what were you thinking?"
Now, before I tell you my answer, I don't think it needs to be explained. When compared to my brother's answer it may not really look as though I had put as much thought into my own question as he had, but in its own way, I still admire my almost naive approach to conjuring up what I believed (at least prior to asking my brother), to be the best invention of all time.
What was my answer I here you ask?
A toaster.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Facebook Rant
As I write this, my internet is down. Yeah, I know you are reading this and thinking, “But this is a blog on the internet, how is your internet down?” Well, I was sad enough to open Microsoft Word and type my thoughts down in frustration. I then copied and pasted the words into a blog when the internet decided to try again.
I get really frustrated when the internet is down. I guarantee half the people who just read that sentence thought, ‘sexually frustrated?’ and thought they were being original. You weren’t and you’re not. It just pisses me off that it happens when you are actually busy working on something like a collaborative script with someone and you are conversing over the medium of Skype about it and then the internet goes ‘Ehh...’
Useless. Bloody useless.
Although I like the fact that sometimes it happens for only 20 seconds and it makes my blood boil. Suddenly I think the world owes me something for this amazing creation that can give me any knowledge on any subject in about 5 seconds. When it doesn’t, I am stunned and angry and generally mocking its ability.
Okay so there is a lack of anything funny so far I grant you. So I shall talk to you about Facebook. And in particular Facebook Chat.
Jason Timms pops up. ‘Hi.’ Fuck off Jason Timms. We never spoke at school. I only accepted you because I was vaguely intrigued as to whether you would end up as a binman in Staines like I thought you might. ‘What you up to?’ I said fuck off Jason Timms! If I wanted to talk to you I would have replied by now. My status circle thing is green which means I am here and I can see it. I just don’t want to talk to you.
‘Fancy coming out next week?’ Jason! Please! Shut up! You know what? Fine. I shall respond. Just to reject your invitation. ‘No. Fuck off.’ Then I press enter. Jason Timms has gone offline. What!? Bullshit. I call bullshit that Jason Timms has gone offline Facebook. Everyone else is still online. All 62 people with nothing better to do than be online and on Facebook. Bullshit would he go offline before I have verbally berated him. No I’m not having that. ‘Fuck you Jason.’
Jason Timms is back online. ‘What?’ Ah crap. Thanks Facebook. Now Jason Timms, ballbag though he is, wants me dead. Thanks a lot Facebook. I’ll go offline. Oh a comment on a picture! Oh Facebook. I’m barely in it and it isn’t about me. Surely you can see that. They are having a conversation about how immense that night was. I don’t even know three of the people talking. STOP SENDING ME NOTIFICATIONS ON THAT ONE SODDING PICTURE.
In fact, if I like something when bored, that is not an invitation for two other people to have a chat on that status that goes on the whole night. I don’t want 22 notifications telling me they are still talking. Who is Dave Westbury and why does he want to be my friend? I don’t care if he drives the uni bus. I don’t get the uni bus. REJECTION. Ooh a message. No! No! Fuck off Jason Timms! Yes, I went offline, because I realised you were going to be a tool. Oh no. You don’t want me at your party anymore. Boo fucking hoo.
A notification. Ooh two notifications actually. Girls! Stop talking on that sodding picture. Ooh an event invitation. Jason. Seriously. You just told me how much you don’t want me there. Don’t go inviting me just to piss me off. What the-? You have invited 363 people? You’re whole friends list? For pre-drinks then town? Do you want your house intact by the end of it? And how are you planning on taking 363 people to town? Mate, it’s Bournemouth not a blitzkrieg. I’ll click maybe attending. That means ‘No’ 90% of the time, if you’re wondering. Another friend request? Dave! Dave Westbury! What the hell? You know I just rejected you. I’m going to reject again. And next time the police will be getting a call. Don’t go adding me again you freak. Go to bed. You shouldn’t be up now anyway. What’s this? Two page requests? One group request?
No, I do not want to be a fan of Rocky Balboa. No, I do not want to become a fan of dead baby jokes. No, you will not change your name to Frankenstein if myself and 999,999 others join this group. Stop being a tit and grow up. What does the group say? You’re 32. Dude, seriously. I don’t think that’ll make me think you’re ‘cool’ or a ‘wacky kinda guy’ who ‘appeals to the kids’. I’ll just think you’re a tool. Like when that 50 year old bloke skateboards down the high street with his top off and Oakley sunglasses. I don’t think ‘Ooh nice. That looks like a fun mode of transport. Maybe I’ll give it a go. ’ No, I tend to think, ‘Cock.’
Generally he’ll then stop his skateboard having gone past me. He’ll turn and remove his shades. “Is that you? You want to school with my son I think. Jason Timms?”
Seriously Facebook. Fuck you.
The internet still isn’t back up as I finish this...but this has been very cathartic. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
---
And that is what I wrote last night.
I get really frustrated when the internet is down. I guarantee half the people who just read that sentence thought, ‘sexually frustrated?’ and thought they were being original. You weren’t and you’re not. It just pisses me off that it happens when you are actually busy working on something like a collaborative script with someone and you are conversing over the medium of Skype about it and then the internet goes ‘Ehh...’
Useless. Bloody useless.
Although I like the fact that sometimes it happens for only 20 seconds and it makes my blood boil. Suddenly I think the world owes me something for this amazing creation that can give me any knowledge on any subject in about 5 seconds. When it doesn’t, I am stunned and angry and generally mocking its ability.
Okay so there is a lack of anything funny so far I grant you. So I shall talk to you about Facebook. And in particular Facebook Chat.
Jason Timms pops up. ‘Hi.’ Fuck off Jason Timms. We never spoke at school. I only accepted you because I was vaguely intrigued as to whether you would end up as a binman in Staines like I thought you might. ‘What you up to?’ I said fuck off Jason Timms! If I wanted to talk to you I would have replied by now. My status circle thing is green which means I am here and I can see it. I just don’t want to talk to you.
‘Fancy coming out next week?’ Jason! Please! Shut up! You know what? Fine. I shall respond. Just to reject your invitation. ‘No. Fuck off.’ Then I press enter. Jason Timms has gone offline. What!? Bullshit. I call bullshit that Jason Timms has gone offline Facebook. Everyone else is still online. All 62 people with nothing better to do than be online and on Facebook. Bullshit would he go offline before I have verbally berated him. No I’m not having that. ‘Fuck you Jason.’
Jason Timms is back online. ‘What?’ Ah crap. Thanks Facebook. Now Jason Timms, ballbag though he is, wants me dead. Thanks a lot Facebook. I’ll go offline. Oh a comment on a picture! Oh Facebook. I’m barely in it and it isn’t about me. Surely you can see that. They are having a conversation about how immense that night was. I don’t even know three of the people talking. STOP SENDING ME NOTIFICATIONS ON THAT ONE SODDING PICTURE.
In fact, if I like something when bored, that is not an invitation for two other people to have a chat on that status that goes on the whole night. I don’t want 22 notifications telling me they are still talking. Who is Dave Westbury and why does he want to be my friend? I don’t care if he drives the uni bus. I don’t get the uni bus. REJECTION. Ooh a message. No! No! Fuck off Jason Timms! Yes, I went offline, because I realised you were going to be a tool. Oh no. You don’t want me at your party anymore. Boo fucking hoo.
A notification. Ooh two notifications actually. Girls! Stop talking on that sodding picture. Ooh an event invitation. Jason. Seriously. You just told me how much you don’t want me there. Don’t go inviting me just to piss me off. What the-? You have invited 363 people? You’re whole friends list? For pre-drinks then town? Do you want your house intact by the end of it? And how are you planning on taking 363 people to town? Mate, it’s Bournemouth not a blitzkrieg. I’ll click maybe attending. That means ‘No’ 90% of the time, if you’re wondering. Another friend request? Dave! Dave Westbury! What the hell? You know I just rejected you. I’m going to reject again. And next time the police will be getting a call. Don’t go adding me again you freak. Go to bed. You shouldn’t be up now anyway. What’s this? Two page requests? One group request?
No, I do not want to be a fan of Rocky Balboa. No, I do not want to become a fan of dead baby jokes. No, you will not change your name to Frankenstein if myself and 999,999 others join this group. Stop being a tit and grow up. What does the group say? You’re 32. Dude, seriously. I don’t think that’ll make me think you’re ‘cool’ or a ‘wacky kinda guy’ who ‘appeals to the kids’. I’ll just think you’re a tool. Like when that 50 year old bloke skateboards down the high street with his top off and Oakley sunglasses. I don’t think ‘Ooh nice. That looks like a fun mode of transport. Maybe I’ll give it a go. ’ No, I tend to think, ‘Cock.’
Generally he’ll then stop his skateboard having gone past me. He’ll turn and remove his shades. “Is that you? You want to school with my son I think. Jason Timms?”
Seriously Facebook. Fuck you.
The internet still isn’t back up as I finish this...but this has been very cathartic. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
---
And that is what I wrote last night.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
A sketch - The Chat
So I have had a disagreement over the inclusion of a sketch in a radio show. I think it's hilarious. They don't think it'll work. Judge for yourself.
Note that the two main voices sound like lower class chav style voices.
The Chat
Ringing...
Dazza: Hello is that-
Jase: Dazza?!
Dazza: Jase? IS that you?
Jase: Oh mate! How’s it going? What’s up man?
Dazza: Oh this is mental! Haven’t spoken to you in what...a while. God!
Jase: Yeah so what’s going on dude?
Dazza: Well you know, this and that. Got a new bird on the go. Clarissa. She’s top man.
Jase: Ace.
Dazza: Yeah and err...living in Weston Road. Nice little place there. Hooked up the old hi-fi the other day. Pretty sweet.
Jase: Nice, nice...
Dazze: So what about you Jase, me old man? How’s it going?
Jase: Oh mate! Oh mate, OH MATE! What can I say? Life is good! Got a kid!
Dazza: A kid?
Jase: Yeah! With Gemma. Felix. He’s cute as hell. Ah man.
Dazza: That’s great! Proper good, dude.
Jase: Yeah...oh God we should have a beer!
Dazza: Yeah, that’d be awesome. Oh man! My old buddy Jase on the phone! (to someone else) My old buddy Jase! Come say hi..come on.
Lisa: I don’t want..hello?
Jase: Haha! Oh God! Hello?
Pause.
Dazza: Me again mate! Oh that’s Lisa! Work colleague. Oh she’s scowling at me now. Proper scowling! Ah she’s mental.
Jase: Classic mate, classic.
Dazza: Yeah! So where were we?
Jase: A beer!
Dazza: Yes! Do you still know Ricky B?
Jase: Yeah.
Dazza: Text him man. He’s got my number. I mean I should probably be telling you about this thing anyways.
Jase: Oh, I guess so then. What’s the deets?
Dazza: (suddenly serious) right we need an ambulance over to 43 Wellington Road. Possible cardiac arrest. 50 year old male with breathing problems and we need an ambulance there quick.
Jase: On my way.
So that's it. Maybe I'm biased but I think the punchline is really pretty strong. But I want to know...It doesn't make to much difference as I'm taking it to Edinburgh but yeah...
Note that the two main voices sound like lower class chav style voices.
The Chat
Ringing...
Dazza: Hello is that-
Jase: Dazza?!
Dazza: Jase? IS that you?
Jase: Oh mate! How’s it going? What’s up man?
Dazza: Oh this is mental! Haven’t spoken to you in what...a while. God!
Jase: Yeah so what’s going on dude?
Dazza: Well you know, this and that. Got a new bird on the go. Clarissa. She’s top man.
Jase: Ace.
Dazza: Yeah and err...living in Weston Road. Nice little place there. Hooked up the old hi-fi the other day. Pretty sweet.
Jase: Nice, nice...
Dazze: So what about you Jase, me old man? How’s it going?
Jase: Oh mate! Oh mate, OH MATE! What can I say? Life is good! Got a kid!
Dazza: A kid?
Jase: Yeah! With Gemma. Felix. He’s cute as hell. Ah man.
Dazza: That’s great! Proper good, dude.
Jase: Yeah...oh God we should have a beer!
Dazza: Yeah, that’d be awesome. Oh man! My old buddy Jase on the phone! (to someone else) My old buddy Jase! Come say hi..come on.
Lisa: I don’t want..hello?
Jase: Haha! Oh God! Hello?
Pause.
Dazza: Me again mate! Oh that’s Lisa! Work colleague. Oh she’s scowling at me now. Proper scowling! Ah she’s mental.
Jase: Classic mate, classic.
Dazza: Yeah! So where were we?
Jase: A beer!
Dazza: Yes! Do you still know Ricky B?
Jase: Yeah.
Dazza: Text him man. He’s got my number. I mean I should probably be telling you about this thing anyways.
Jase: Oh, I guess so then. What’s the deets?
Dazza: (suddenly serious) right we need an ambulance over to 43 Wellington Road. Possible cardiac arrest. 50 year old male with breathing problems and we need an ambulance there quick.
Jase: On my way.
So that's it. Maybe I'm biased but I think the punchline is really pretty strong. But I want to know...It doesn't make to much difference as I'm taking it to Edinburgh but yeah...
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Coins
I am sorry for deserting you for so long my dear faithful blog readers, of which there are perhaps five? Maybe less. Maybe more. How vague.
I have been very busy performing in a play, writing up a film idea (very excited and pleased with that) and planning to take a sketch show to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. in fact you can follow that particular blog at:
http://performanceterrorists.blogspot.com
I know, I know. It just kind of trips off the tongue doesn't it?
Anyway we shall see how that goes in due course.
For now though, I'd like to speak to you about coins. That's right. Coins. And why oh why can we not get them from the cash machine? the amount of times I have gone to the cash machine to get money out for a friend I owe...only to then have to figure out how exactly we will change the ten pounds into six pounds fifty because he has no change.
My solution is basically having coins available to fall out the machine at your request. It's genius. It's not particularly funny in any way, I just thought I'd bring it up.
I may even have mentioned it before but I'm not sure. So here it is again. It's the future!
Maybe.
Possibly.
Probably not.
Oh.
I have been very busy performing in a play, writing up a film idea (very excited and pleased with that) and planning to take a sketch show to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. in fact you can follow that particular blog at:
http://performanceterrorists.blogspot.com
I know, I know. It just kind of trips off the tongue doesn't it?
Anyway we shall see how that goes in due course.
For now though, I'd like to speak to you about coins. That's right. Coins. And why oh why can we not get them from the cash machine? the amount of times I have gone to the cash machine to get money out for a friend I owe...only to then have to figure out how exactly we will change the ten pounds into six pounds fifty because he has no change.
My solution is basically having coins available to fall out the machine at your request. It's genius. It's not particularly funny in any way, I just thought I'd bring it up.
I may even have mentioned it before but I'm not sure. So here it is again. It's the future!
Maybe.
Possibly.
Probably not.
Oh.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Mouse Trap Execution
Following in the footsteps of my recent (let's face it )quite intriguing posts, I have decided to continue the tradition. Recent posts are below. Suicide bombers, rape and interesting musing on school massacres and Cluedo in the McCann family. Classic stuff.
So now I am going to put forward a revolutionary idea for you to consider.
Mouse Trap Execution.
Some of us are against the death penalty, and some are for it. And some aren't really sure...maybe it should be for the worst murderers only, but the rest can rot in jail. Well here is a 'fun' way to solve the problem.
Mouse Trap Execution.
It's simple. Any criminal on death row is sent for execution. Every execution is done by electric chair. And if you don't like that, tough. You lost the right to choose when you shot that lady in the head Mr Death Row. And you have probably had enough needles to last a lifetime. I don't want you thinking your death is some kind of last minute heroin shot. (I digress into stereotype. Apologies.) Anyway, the electricity only occurs once the mouse trap has been completed.
I may be losing you. I apologise again. Remember that game you played as a kid? Everyone picks a coloured mouse...and the losers all get trapped in a cage once you do the whole turn the cog wheel...ball...hand..diver in bucket thing...
Well... that.
Mouse Trap only ever worked about a third of the time. Maybe less. So sit the criminal down, make them turn the wheel and let Mouse Trap decide. If it fails then the guy on death row lives out his life in jail. If it works then the bloke dies, but we all get to revel in the fact that Mouse Trap actually worked.
The diver actually hit the bucket! (That was always the one that'd screw it up...) And a murderer is dead! Yay!
You could bet on it too, bringing in much needed revenue to the country.
So ladies and gentlemen trust me on this. Mouse Trap Executions are where it's at.
Now who's with me?
So now I am going to put forward a revolutionary idea for you to consider.
Mouse Trap Execution.
Some of us are against the death penalty, and some are for it. And some aren't really sure...maybe it should be for the worst murderers only, but the rest can rot in jail. Well here is a 'fun' way to solve the problem.
Mouse Trap Execution.
It's simple. Any criminal on death row is sent for execution. Every execution is done by electric chair. And if you don't like that, tough. You lost the right to choose when you shot that lady in the head Mr Death Row. And you have probably had enough needles to last a lifetime. I don't want you thinking your death is some kind of last minute heroin shot. (I digress into stereotype. Apologies.) Anyway, the electricity only occurs once the mouse trap has been completed.
I may be losing you. I apologise again. Remember that game you played as a kid? Everyone picks a coloured mouse...and the losers all get trapped in a cage once you do the whole turn the cog wheel...ball...hand..diver in bucket thing...
Well... that.
Mouse Trap only ever worked about a third of the time. Maybe less. So sit the criminal down, make them turn the wheel and let Mouse Trap decide. If it fails then the guy on death row lives out his life in jail. If it works then the bloke dies, but we all get to revel in the fact that Mouse Trap actually worked.
The diver actually hit the bucket! (That was always the one that'd screw it up...) And a murderer is dead! Yay!
You could bet on it too, bringing in much needed revenue to the country.
So ladies and gentlemen trust me on this. Mouse Trap Executions are where it's at.
Now who's with me?
Friday, 19 February 2010
Offensive? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
I don't know if anyone else thinks this but I think you may start thinking it now if you never have before.
Basically, I often watch the news and quite often, far more often than there should really be, there is a story about rape and I think, 'Oh that's pretty bad.' And then they show a picture of the victim of the rape and my thought process changes to '...really?'
More often than not, the victim of the rape really isn't that fantastic looking which completely confuses me. If you were going to rape, and I don't advise you do, you may as well go out on a high. But most of the time I sit there questioning who the hell would rape...that.
I know it sounds harsh, and that's because it is. But then life is harsh. And that's the beauty of it.
So from my investigations, what I can gather is basically if you do not want to be raped, make yourself look stunning and out of the rapist's league. Since they clearly have leagues and it seems to stop at Conference level.
Basically, I often watch the news and quite often, far more often than there should really be, there is a story about rape and I think, 'Oh that's pretty bad.' And then they show a picture of the victim of the rape and my thought process changes to '...really?'
More often than not, the victim of the rape really isn't that fantastic looking which completely confuses me. If you were going to rape, and I don't advise you do, you may as well go out on a high. But most of the time I sit there questioning who the hell would rape...that.
I know it sounds harsh, and that's because it is. But then life is harsh. And that's the beauty of it.
So from my investigations, what I can gather is basically if you do not want to be raped, make yourself look stunning and out of the rapist's league. Since they clearly have leagues and it seems to stop at Conference level.
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Essays to Suicide Bombers
Let's see what I come out with here.
'Hi.
So I'm a student. Are you all students? Yeah? Anyone got any deadlines looming? Yeah? And yet you thought you'd waste a night coming here. Nice plan, dude. I mean...it's only three and a half grand we're wasting.
A YEAR.
Well...I only ask because I'm here when I have an essay deadline looming. It's five days away but I think that's okay. Would everyone agree with me that that's okay? Yeah. Five hours and then you may question it. But five days is fine.
God did some amazing work in five days. I mean some of it's shoddy, let's not lie. France was a particularly bad idea. And putting Germany next to Poland on the map. I mean, he's meant to be all knowing so surely he knew what was going to happen there. When you think about it, God didn't really think it through. He put all the close rivals next to each other on the global map. What a tool. I mean putting Palestine next to Israel was just asking for trouble. We know what they're like.
I think it's hard for us as a nation to understand what is going on in Palestine and Israel. My friend once tried to put it into context by saying with a shake of his head, 'Suicide bombers. They're fucking everywhere.' Well...no they're not. I mean they are there but not for long. So, I'm not really sure if they are a set group of people really.
But I think it'd be weird if we had suicide bombers in the UK because the way I see it, the UK just wouldn't care.
'What's happened sorry? He's blown himself up? Well what did he do that for? It's not like the train's never going to arrive, it's just a few minutes late.'
Well, I feel I have procrastinated from my essay enough and I have no idea how I got onto talking about suicide bombers after intending to write about essays as I am stuck on one as I type. But there we go.
'Hi.
So I'm a student. Are you all students? Yeah? Anyone got any deadlines looming? Yeah? And yet you thought you'd waste a night coming here. Nice plan, dude. I mean...it's only three and a half grand we're wasting.
A YEAR.
Well...I only ask because I'm here when I have an essay deadline looming. It's five days away but I think that's okay. Would everyone agree with me that that's okay? Yeah. Five hours and then you may question it. But five days is fine.
God did some amazing work in five days. I mean some of it's shoddy, let's not lie. France was a particularly bad idea. And putting Germany next to Poland on the map. I mean, he's meant to be all knowing so surely he knew what was going to happen there. When you think about it, God didn't really think it through. He put all the close rivals next to each other on the global map. What a tool. I mean putting Palestine next to Israel was just asking for trouble. We know what they're like.
I think it's hard for us as a nation to understand what is going on in Palestine and Israel. My friend once tried to put it into context by saying with a shake of his head, 'Suicide bombers. They're fucking everywhere.' Well...no they're not. I mean they are there but not for long. So, I'm not really sure if they are a set group of people really.
But I think it'd be weird if we had suicide bombers in the UK because the way I see it, the UK just wouldn't care.
'What's happened sorry? He's blown himself up? Well what did he do that for? It's not like the train's never going to arrive, it's just a few minutes late.'
Well, I feel I have procrastinated from my essay enough and I have no idea how I got onto talking about suicide bombers after intending to write about essays as I am stuck on one as I type. But there we go.
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Controversial - School Shootings
Today I came up with a stand up skit which I think is just plain controversial. Possibly offensive. Well, almost certainly offensive. I'm not really sure.
Simply put, I was thinking about that Silent Witness episode a week and a bit ago, where there is a uni shooting and how odd it was that only the shooters knew their way around the uni perfectly, when even the Dean and Leo had differing on opinions on how to get from place to place.
So...my magic mind conjured up a humorous alternative look at the thought process of the shooters and it concludes with a mime and belief process that the characters in fact only wanted to kill one person during their school massacre, and they then tried to run away but got lost on their escape.
Realising they can't find the exit, they shoot every person that comes near them because they might get told on for shooting and killing other members. The whole thing escalates obviously until the shooter itches his head with his gun, in disbelief that they cannot find the exit to get away...when doing this he accidentally shoots himself through the head.
Thus ends the skit. As you can see, it's fairly controversial but...I don't know...the controversy that it could create is kind of why I like it...
Simply put, I was thinking about that Silent Witness episode a week and a bit ago, where there is a uni shooting and how odd it was that only the shooters knew their way around the uni perfectly, when even the Dean and Leo had differing on opinions on how to get from place to place.
So...my magic mind conjured up a humorous alternative look at the thought process of the shooters and it concludes with a mime and belief process that the characters in fact only wanted to kill one person during their school massacre, and they then tried to run away but got lost on their escape.
Realising they can't find the exit, they shoot every person that comes near them because they might get told on for shooting and killing other members. The whole thing escalates obviously until the shooter itches his head with his gun, in disbelief that they cannot find the exit to get away...when doing this he accidentally shoots himself through the head.
Thus ends the skit. As you can see, it's fairly controversial but...I don't know...the controversy that it could create is kind of why I like it...
Monday, 25 January 2010
Deep.
This may be the lamest joke of all time but it just came into my head so...here it is.
"Out of sight, out of mind. But my brain is out of sight, and yet my mind is...woah. Deep."
It's not even really a joke. More of a mindfuck.
"Out of sight, out of mind. But my brain is out of sight, and yet my mind is...woah. Deep."
It's not even really a joke. More of a mindfuck.
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Better Looking Than God
No matter who you are, this is something that has been weighing on my mind. People often talk about the fact they have put on some weight or they think they are ugly but at the end of the day, if you want me to make you feel better, I can.
I shall do this by simply pointing out that you, all of you (well maybe not you...) are better looking than God. It's true. And I'm not just saying that because God is thousands of years old and that's bound to take its toll, I am saying it in the sense that you are all better looking than God when God was in his prime.
And this is why.
God made man in his own image. He did. We all know that. Now I don't know how many of you have seen any of those caveman documentaries but they are pretty ugly beings. And I by pretty ugly, I mean horrendous. An this is what God looked like if he made man in his own image. There's a reason the phrase 'God awful' exists and this is why.
So if you are having a bad hair day or whatever, just console yourself with the feeling that you are better looking than God and you also never wasted your time inventing the panda.
I shall do this by simply pointing out that you, all of you (well maybe not you...) are better looking than God. It's true. And I'm not just saying that because God is thousands of years old and that's bound to take its toll, I am saying it in the sense that you are all better looking than God when God was in his prime.
And this is why.
God made man in his own image. He did. We all know that. Now I don't know how many of you have seen any of those caveman documentaries but they are pretty ugly beings. And I by pretty ugly, I mean horrendous. An this is what God looked like if he made man in his own image. There's a reason the phrase 'God awful' exists and this is why.
So if you are having a bad hair day or whatever, just console yourself with the feeling that you are better looking than God and you also never wasted your time inventing the panda.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
The Dentist and My First Dead Tooth
Today I visited the dentist for...about the eighth time in 4 months. To be fair it was the first time in 3 months but the month previous to that was a hectic one. Nobody should be able to banter with their dentist and remember last time you met. This is because most dentist's advise a 6 month check-up. Well, my dentist knows me now. To the extent where he looked pleased to see me when I walked in and asked how I was since a couple of months ago. He never used to remember me and that's the way it should be. But now I swear we are only a few more meetings away from going out for a drink.
This, I think, is how cancer patients must begin to feel when they keep having to go and see the same doctor. I doubt it's the cancer that actually kills them but the depression from being such friendly mates with someone who they shouldn't know that well. Or maybe I'm just cynical. Well, I am cynical but I still think I'm onto something here.
Anyway, I was there to get the low down on my front tooth. The incisor if anyone remembers learning the actual name from old science lessons at school. This tooth has been a complete nuisance since the last dentist, who I won't name...because I don't know his name, screwed up the first filling. Now my friend Dr Deivis from Sweden has had to fix things. Only it hasn't gone according to plan with the next filling he put in falling out (those damned 20p sweet drumstick things), realising putting in a replacement could screw over an important nerve and so then going for a root canal instead. So far so good. What I didn't know is that even though you put in a filling as part of a root canal, the damned tooth can still die.
Which is what I learned today. Humbling news. My new best friend Deivis told me that my front right incisor is dead. The first part of me to die is my front right incisor. It never even reached 20. He told me that sometimes this can happen but the decay normally occurs over many months whereas this has been rather quick. I took that to mean that when I completely die in hopefully a lot of decades time, you'll only need to wait about six months or so before burying someone on top of me, such is my body's speed at decaying.
So now I am currently lugging around a dead piece of me forever more. Apparently it will need to be whitened from the inside and this should last 7 or so years before I need it redone. Knowing my recent dental problems I'll be going back every year. This costs £120 by the way, yet the whole mouth can be done for £500. I don't really get this as if you get the whole mouth done, that's one hell of a discount. I contemplated it for a few moments before realising I wasn't yet ready to look like Simon Cowell or Richard Hammond when his had just been done on Top Gear.
So I am now booked in to have my tooth whitened and it apparently takes two, three or four sessions. The only problem is it's a dead tooth so why even bother? Why not just yank the fucker out and give me a new one? That'd be kind of funky. A great ice breaker at parties. "I have a false tooth" sounds a lot better than "I have a dead tooth." Better still, I should probably just avoid mentioning it entirely.
Anyway this is being written in memory of my dead tooth. We had some good times; discovering it really could hurt biting into an apple, that time when I got a brain freeze after chomping into an ice cream with you at the forefront of that discovery. Ahh...you shall not be forgotten. Not least because I'll be lugging you about the whole rest of my life anyway and you'll be having more money spent on you than the rest of my mouth combined most likely. Even though you're dead. Ludicrous.
Henry Fosdike's Top Right Incisor. R.I.P 1990-2009/2010? (Can't really be too sure when it died)
This, I think, is how cancer patients must begin to feel when they keep having to go and see the same doctor. I doubt it's the cancer that actually kills them but the depression from being such friendly mates with someone who they shouldn't know that well. Or maybe I'm just cynical. Well, I am cynical but I still think I'm onto something here.
Anyway, I was there to get the low down on my front tooth. The incisor if anyone remembers learning the actual name from old science lessons at school. This tooth has been a complete nuisance since the last dentist, who I won't name...because I don't know his name, screwed up the first filling. Now my friend Dr Deivis from Sweden has had to fix things. Only it hasn't gone according to plan with the next filling he put in falling out (those damned 20p sweet drumstick things), realising putting in a replacement could screw over an important nerve and so then going for a root canal instead. So far so good. What I didn't know is that even though you put in a filling as part of a root canal, the damned tooth can still die.
Which is what I learned today. Humbling news. My new best friend Deivis told me that my front right incisor is dead. The first part of me to die is my front right incisor. It never even reached 20. He told me that sometimes this can happen but the decay normally occurs over many months whereas this has been rather quick. I took that to mean that when I completely die in hopefully a lot of decades time, you'll only need to wait about six months or so before burying someone on top of me, such is my body's speed at decaying.
So now I am currently lugging around a dead piece of me forever more. Apparently it will need to be whitened from the inside and this should last 7 or so years before I need it redone. Knowing my recent dental problems I'll be going back every year. This costs £120 by the way, yet the whole mouth can be done for £500. I don't really get this as if you get the whole mouth done, that's one hell of a discount. I contemplated it for a few moments before realising I wasn't yet ready to look like Simon Cowell or Richard Hammond when his had just been done on Top Gear.
So I am now booked in to have my tooth whitened and it apparently takes two, three or four sessions. The only problem is it's a dead tooth so why even bother? Why not just yank the fucker out and give me a new one? That'd be kind of funky. A great ice breaker at parties. "I have a false tooth" sounds a lot better than "I have a dead tooth." Better still, I should probably just avoid mentioning it entirely.
Anyway this is being written in memory of my dead tooth. We had some good times; discovering it really could hurt biting into an apple, that time when I got a brain freeze after chomping into an ice cream with you at the forefront of that discovery. Ahh...you shall not be forgotten. Not least because I'll be lugging you about the whole rest of my life anyway and you'll be having more money spent on you than the rest of my mouth combined most likely. Even though you're dead. Ludicrous.
Henry Fosdike's Top Right Incisor. R.I.P 1990-2009/2010? (Can't really be too sure when it died)
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