Excuse me!Typical. You need to use the payphone and some idiot decides to jam a collection of old storage boxes folded into the tight space along with packing material thus taking up all the area I need in order to make my phone call. I mean I can hardly use the phone on the street, everyone will hear my conversation.
I can’t tell you how many times this has happened to me.
Heist movieRight, lads. Thanks for gathering here in the seedy basement criminal headquarters round the back of the seedy basement criminal billiards hall. Grab a cocktail stick to chew. I’ve spread out a blueprint on the table so gather round and have a look.
As you all know, this is the big one, the heist of the year. We’re going to lift four million nicker in used five pence coins from the Coinstar machine by the tills in Morrisons.
First off, we all need code names. Kevil, you’re Mr Blancmange. Ian, we’ll call you Mr Trifle. I’ll be going by the name Mr Bread and Butter Pudding. No arguing now, those are the names, if you don’t like it you can walk out the door and miss out on the biggest haul of loose change this country has ever seen. Alright? Good. We’re all in.
Here’s the plan. Meet round the side of the Morrisons petrol station at 3.15. Mr Trifle and Mr Blancmange will be at the air machine feigning an argument about the correct tyre pressure for the rear wheels of a heavily loaded Dacia Sandero in cold weather. I’ll be in the shop buying a bag of Jelly Tots. If I come out and show you a car wash ticket for a number four programme with hot wax, the game is on.
At that point we all get into the Sandero sharpish. Mr Blancmange will drive. Mr Trifle will jump in the boot so the car doesn’t look too full. I’ll sit in the passenger seat and crack open the Jelly Tots. Then we swing it round to the front of Morrisons and ditch the wheels in a parent and child bay. They’ve got extra room for the doors to open and they’re right by the entrance. I don’t care if we get a ticket.
From there we make it to the Coinstar machine under cover of a montage. Mr Trifle will play in some lively montage music on a bluetooth speaker. Then we get indoors in five montage clips.
When we get to the Coinstar machine we have sixty seconds to get it away before the checkout supervisor sees what we’re up to and raises the alarm. Mr Blancmange and I will lift the floor panel next to it, revealing a manhole down to the drains. Mr Trifle will then announce that he’s “got this” and we will leave it to him to push the machine into the hole.
When that’s done we jump down after it and ride it away through the sewers like a big cash-filled surfboard. The current will tip us out at the riverside where we can get a number 65 bus back here to the lair.
Any questions? No? Good. In that case, you put your suits on and I’ll get the Sandero out of the lock up. Everyone synchronise watches. See you outside in five.
Clock changeJust a reminder that all your clocks will need to be changed this weekend. I’ve just sorted out the ones at work.
End of the yearGood Morning ladies and gentlemen
It has been several months since the last official meeting of the British Mash Council. Since then we have acquired a plethora of new members. The profile of mash has grown considerably over the last six months and it only remains to say that this is all due to our hard work, commitment and fervour to the source material. Before, however, we crack open the champagne there is one final matter that we need to go through before the end of the year and that’s our new annual mash push over the next two months.
Granted we probably should have addressed these matters earlier given that November is but six days away however matters outside of our control (such as Gary’s vasectomy and Maureen’s slip on the cobblestones by the church) saw to that. There was simply no time to fit it in before now.
I therefore suggest a stealth drop of even more mash-based merriment through the usual advertising venues and an assault on social media. We already have a name, there’s no need to start handing out the pads of paper, Doris, so put them back in the lockbox. It was sitting right there in front of us the entire time and it has been plucked. ‘Christmash’ (not ‘Christ-mash’ which is what Tony thought it was when he first saw the sign, there’s a subtle art to it, Tony, I do hope you’ve cottoned on to that now) will be everywhere in the next few weeks. The signs have been printed and are currently sitting between the decorations and the unsold toys from last year’s ‘Mashtopia’ festival. I still am shocked that our selection of mash celebrities inclusing Paddy Mashdown, Richard Mashcroft, Mashley Cole, Mike Mashley and Jayne Middlemash did sell better given their likeness and overall quality. It just goes to show that you can know your audience and still not know your audience..
Do you know what I want to see? I want to see it all. I want to live in a world where instead of a white Christmas we have a slightly yellow, buttery hot ‘Christmash’ with kids playing and building Mashmen in the garden while mum and dad finish off the dinner. I want to live in a world where every tree is decorated in a blizzard of instant mash granules, topped off with a mash angel reaching out to the mashes of the world. I want to hear ‘Come All Ye Mashful’, ‘Oh Little Town of Mashlehem’ and ‘Mash to the World’ playing across the tops of houses, coming from behind the doors of churches and bellowing out of every carol singer in the Western hemisphere.
If we hit the ground running then we have nothing to worry about. I trust all of you to continue spreading the good name of mash and by this time in December it will the the best year for the British Mash Council since 2009!
Watchoo lookin’ at?
What’s your game, Gene Pitney?
Why you so smug, eh?
I see you, dressed in a sharp suit and turning towards the camera. That’s not a wry look on your face, Pitney, that’s the look of someone who knows something. So what do you know, Pitney? Do you know that you’ve got a great voice and before your passing in 2006 you were well-respected by pretty much everyone? Do you know that not only did you have a magnificent set of pipes but you also played instruments during the early part of your career? I didn’t know that but now I do.
Are you hiding the fact that you are also a gifted songwriter and had your fingers in a lot of pies in the 1960’s? Pretty chuffed that you wrote the lovely song ‘Hello Mary Lou’ for Ricky Nelson, later covered by Creedence Clearwater Revival?
Something in your pocket, Pitney? Perhaps it’s a diary of the time you were present when the Rolling Stones were recording their first album. What’s that? May have played some piano for them too?
Well I wouldn’t be that happy if I’d written the piss stain train tracks of ‘Rubber Ball’ by Bobby Vee, a song so irritating it should have cement poured on its feet and be thrown into the sea. Get in the sea, ‘Rubber Ball’. No more of that, Pitney.
Remember who you’re dealing with, Pitney. You’ll be twenty-four hours from my fist in your chops if you come at me like that again.
H-A-L-L-U-M-IBack in July 2020, Ian was carrying out some gentle archaeology among his possessions, which had begun to settle in accreted layers like sedimentary rock. In the midst of a rich stratum of shopping lists and half-finished song lyrics, he stumbled upon a miniature Sacred Book, and reported this to the Beans.
The booklet runs only to four pages in a bigger book that is otherwise full of other tat, and records the events that took place in the Magic Lantern pub in Whitley Bay (which later became a Harvester, and is now, of course, a Miller and Carter). In-depth scientific analysis of the occasions on which all three of us were in Newcastle, cross-referenced with the visits that had not produced a full Book, suggests that this was likely to have been in 2009.
We begged Ian to scan in these pages so they could be added to our collective store of wisdom on the Beans. We implored him. We offered him trinkets and prizes and financial incentives in discreet brown envelopes. But he resisted, and no scan was ever made.
Well, I don’t know about you, but my patience ran out, and it ran out at about 6.30 this morning. So I took the dodgy photos he had posted to the Beans, straightened and corrected them, and produced decent quality images of all four pages which I have now added to the Beans, bypassing the whole sorry business of Ian having to scan them. I have titled this new book “H-A-L-L-U-M-I”, that being the first thing written in it.
Its four pages contain an amazing number of in-jokes that survive to this day:
So, there it is, a lost slice of history, saved for the benefit of the nation. You can find it in the Books section.
Newsboost – No more love songsDevastating news has been reported from the United Nations after it was decided that, having reached the grand total of one billion love songs, there will be no more after midnight tonight.
When top-charting scuzz pop double act Mozz P released ‘Love Ring’ on streaming services at 9:01am this Monday little did they know how important a song it would end up being. I mean it’s not a great song, in fact it’s pretty awful and degrading to both men and women. I would even go so far as to say it’s less a song and more two idiots shouting, “LOVE RING! LOVE RING!” through an auto-tuner whilst someone else’s music plays in the background. It has, however, been decided that this will be the very last love song ever released and that moving forward no new love songs will be permitted. This may seem like a pretty harsh indictment but when you consider the evidence it makes perfect sense. Jupiter Bromport from the United Nations spoke with our reporter earlier this week.
“There’s too many of them. One billion songs? Are you kidding me?” mused Jupiter Bromport as she sipped a cappuccino from the side of her mouth. “We paid an intern to write an algorithm to work out the percentage of songs in the modern world concerning love and apparently a staggering 94.6% of all songs ever released are about love. We need a little more diversity. Considering the amount of “things” we have today it is strange that people still tend to dwell on the same ideas and notions. Nobody is condoning the universal appeal of love and all aspects of love but would it kill people to maybe write one about a pirate cat or a mud princess swimming in Stockport every once in a while? I personally would love more songs about what happens to your clean washing if you leave it on the floor for too long.”
The news has left several prominent song writers in quite a quandary. Ed Sheeran was seen downing a whole bag of ‘Pick ‘N’ Mix’ all at the same time. He refused to comment and spent over an hour hiding in the bathroom at the Butt and Oyster pub before climbing out the window. Billie Eilish openly protested when she heard the news; she threw a loud and nasal tantrum and then threw a tin of pop over a carousel horse in New York. Reports are still coming in however it has been mentioned that Ariana Grande may or may not have aggressively solved a child’s Rubik’s Cube in downtown Los Angeles. Whether it was to do with the news is still unconfirmed. We are still awaiting official news from Michael Buble and Lionel Ritchie.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. Roger Waters had been working on a new rock opera about the name change when cleaning product giant Jif changed to Cif in December 2000. Since the headlines first hit, his ticket sales have quadrupled, selling out venues all over the UK and Ireland.
Toot Hill ButtsI don’t know what this means but if I were Kev I wouldn’t be advertising it so prominently.
