Avatar What is Kev doing?

It happened nine years ago today, on 30 November 2012.

It is the only picture I took that day, apparently.

But what is Kev doing? And where is he? And what is that red thing?

My phone thinks this happened in Swillington. Why would we be in Swillington? That can’t be right.

Answers on a postcard, please, to:

What is Kev Doing
Pouring Beans Competition Department
PouringBeans.com
The Internet

Avatar Security message

Due to recent security breaches affecting The Beans, a number of extremely important changes have taken place which you need to be aware of. Please read this briefing in full, and if you are uncertain about anything you see here, then please don’t hesitate to read it again but more slowly so you understand it better.

In order to help The Beans respond to this security incident, and all future security incidents, as quickly and efficiently as possible, a new Elite Security Response Taskforce Committee has been formed. Its members – Kev, Chris and Ian – have been chosen for their expertise on cybersecurity matters, their proven 24/7 availability, and the fact that they are the only people involved in The Beans. All security problems are presented to the Elite Security Response Taskforce Committee, who will then respond with a plan of action within eight to ten working weeks.

Already changes are evident. A new method of logging in to The Beans has been established and is now in service.

  1. Members should navigate to the new super secure login page at security.keep-out.pouringbeans.com/go-away/no-hackers-allowed.html from where they can enter their login details.
  2. Members should then enter their username and their password when prompted.
  3. Passwords must contain three uppercase letters; four lowercase letters; a number of numbers between none and twelve, though the numbers themselves must be no lower than eight and no higher than fourteen; three symbols; one emoji (but not the clown face); and a special noise. Users should make the noise into their device’s internal microphone at the appropriate point while typing in their password.
  4. On entering the correct username and password, the member will then receive a telephone call from an unlisted number in Cuba, and will be given a unique sequence of six digits, masked by the sound of heavy breathing and occasional bouts of coughing.
  5. The six digits must be split into two groups of three and then multiplied together. The member’s year of birth should then be deducted from that total to produce a one-time code. This should then be sent by text message to a number that will be shown on the screen.
  6. If the code is correct, an email will be sent to the member containing a unique link. Following the link will open what appears to be the Wilko’s homepage, but clicking on the picture advertising a special offer on broom handles will open a new webpage that will require use of your device’s camera.
  7. Facial recognition software will then scan the member’s viso/volto and compare it to images of the member in the photos section of The Beans.
  8. If the v/v is considered acceptable, the member will be granted access to The Beans and will have three minutes to write a new post or otherwise carry out activities in the admin interface before being automatically logged out.

The danger presented to The Beans by hackers, cybercriminals, cyberbullies and incompetence remains extremely high. The Pouring Beans Elite Security Response Taskforce Committee thanks you for your understanding as we continue to work for a more secure future, today and tomorrow, for our children, and our children’s children. Although at this stage neither our children nor our children’s children will be allowed to access the website for security reasons. Thank you.

Avatar The Past – Simple and Chunky

Look at you with your big shoes and your empty wallet. How do you pay for things? With your phone? Your watch? Don’t talk to me about witchcraft, sonny, I was around when Timmy Mallet had a music career.

Recycling; you take something old and you turn it into something new. It’s how the world works now and I wouldn’t change it for anything. I would much rather take the rambling notes of a semi-drunk Ian trying to remember an idea from over ten years ago (vanillla scapegoat, shoulder frog bags, ultra finger groups?) and turn it into a leaflet advertising the many talents of a local spiritual healer. Think of the tens of people who would benefit from my sacrifice. It’s a win win for the world.

When I was back visiting my family for belated birthday proceedings I took to the loft in her house to dig out the last of my junk that is cluttering the place up in the hope of either getting rid of it or taking it with me back to Newcastle. What I unearthed will probably form the majority of my posts for next month because December is a busy month. It’s time to phone it in (no pun intended).

I present to you Bob, my very first mobile phone:

Phhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwooooooar!

Purchased for a mere £30.00 from (I think) an O2 store at the White Rose Shopping Centre circa 1999/2000, I initially refused to get one on the grounds that everyone else was and I didn’t want to be lumped in with the zeitgeist. Whatever it was that made me change my mind is lost to time. Perhaps it was the whopping ten (count ’em) text messages the internal battery of the phone could hold or the two lines of text visible on the 3cm by 1cm screen. Maybe it was the robust handset that, even in my tiny hands, feels as though you could crack open a tin of beans with it.

I am confident that this little wild cherry will be worth a lot of money in the future as over twenty years later it is still dripping with sex and style, much like yours truly. Once I start strutting my stuff down at da club, when I be all up at da club, waving this honey sausage around like a pair of electrics socks (?) I’ll be a local celebrity.

I am Future Retro.

Avatar Four Word Reviews: Fantastic Television Themes

Sometimes the random albums you are compelled to listen to and review are just average. Sometimes the random albums you are compelled to listen to and review are life-changingly bad. Sometimes, though, the random albums you are compelled to listen to and review are not albums at all. There’s no particular artist, no particular style, no lyrics even. This is one of those albums.

Read More: Four Word Reviews: Fantastic Television Themes »

Avatar A taste of Hampshire

People sometimes ask me: Chris, why did you move to Bordon? What attracted you to this small ex-army town in Hampshire? Was it the abundant woodland? Its proximity to the South Downs National Park? Being in easy reach of the picturesque and charming market towns of Farnham and Petersfield? Being within commuting distance of London while also being less than an hour from the coast?

It was none of these. What brought me to Bordon was enviable hilltop location on the borders of Aragón and Valencia in south eastern Spain, and its delicious red wines, a blend of 75% Tempranillo and 25% Garnacha grapes.

Wine from Bordón

Avatar I don’t need you

Look at you. I don’t need you.

You tell me to ‘keep you for when I need you’ but I’ve got news for you buddy, there will never come a time when I will need you.

I don’t need a Roman. I don’t think I’ve ever asked anyone for a Roman. It’s not as if I’ve been walking down the street in town and thought to myself, “ooo, you know what I could do with right now? A bit of Roman, yeah.” I’m not stuck at work trying to solve a problem and cursing the absence of a centurion to help me through a difficult time. You don’t find me arms aloft, shouting to the heavens, wishing a Roman would swoop along to sort out my bad diet and poor exercise regime.

You look confused and out of breath. Are you surrounding that house so you can lay siege to it or is this your home? It doesn’t look very Roman if you ask me. If you’re lurking about on someone else’s property they’re going to call the police. You look as though you’re taking a piss in their garden and hoping that nobody notices you. That’s not your house, is it, Roman? You wouldn’t have that many windows. You would freak if you saw double glazing or that burglar alarm started going off. Your primitive mind couldn’t cope with our twenty-first century ideas. Hell, I can’t cope with our twenty-first century ideas.

Tell you what, if I’m planning to try and conquer most of the known world I will drop you a line and ask for some assistance. Until then, I don’t need you.

Go away, shoo!