Posts filed under 'Noos Flash'
I have been doing some serious work now that the impending recording date is merely days away. It’s been all out on my pad of paper. I’ve been meaning to have a bash at some other lyrics for a while now, you know other than the fully-formed songs I wrote earlier on in the year, and it was only yesterday with a cat box sat on my lap on the bus that I found the chance. It wasn’t the opportunity I was expecting but I’m not one to complain much outside of the usual realms of music and sh*t acting.
I think this third effort will be our best yet, taking in many different ideas about love and the world and everything that goes on especially when it involves animals, woodland creatures and inanimate objects. There’s not enough songs about lamps out there and I think we might be the ones to sort that out. Due to the fall of many great heroes this year there also might be room for a tribute to someone very dear to our hearts. If Geno Washington and Princess Diana can get a song then I’m sure he can too.
I feel very moist. There’s a lot of work to be done however you can be assured that it will be done to the highest standard when the Papples are involved. I just hope that we’ve both managed to shift our colds otherwise it will be the chuggiest record you’ve ever heard. Yes, that’s right, I still refer to albums as records. I’m not the only person you know.
Pass me my chugg-o-meter!
(somebody please help me get Let Loose out of my head!)
November 9th, 2011
According to the title of this post this is the Official Halfway Through The Year post.
So we must be halfway through 2011 otherwise this post wouldn’t make sense.
How about that?
July 1st, 2011
The results are in! Having investigated the state of love in the modern world for the last twenty or so years scientists from Hawaii have confirmed that there is significantly less romance in 2011 than there was fifty years ago.
“We measured a number of variables,” confirmed chief scientist Dondi Flabbergast, “including throbbing hearts, public displays of affection and the ratio of swoons to women and unfortunately what we discovered is not encouraging. There is at least 44% less romance in the world than there was fifty years around. That said though, fifty years ago was the summer of love and there’s no way anyone can compare with those sorts of statistics.”
Following the news Hollywood has increased the number of awful romantic comedies going into production by more than twice than what was expected. One MP from Doncaster is pushing for plans to introduce another Valentine’s Day in the middle of August, which of course outraged government back benchers. Several worried romantics in Florence, Italy have claimed to have discovered Casanova’s remains and are busy rubbling sensual oils and herbs into his bones to channel some good vibes although the timing has been criticised by most.
To make matters better, or worse depending on what foot you’ve been standing on, several factories around the UK have been creating artificial romance to be released into the wild. “It’s a relatively simple process,” stated Veronica Gronst, C.E.O. of Beating Arteries, one of the companies involved, “romance can be made from several base substances. We’re not at liberty to disclose that information but we can confirm they are all available in most homes and residences. Once they’ve been filtered and polished they are released through a small heart-shaped window in the top of the factory in the hope that they will find their way to men and women all around the world and bring them together.”
When queried as to whether there were any harmful gases contained in the aritficial romance the phone went dead.
March 8th, 2011
It has gone on long enough and today is the day where credit is given to where the credit should have already gone. It’s very easy to say how instrumental certain people in the music biz were but where would they have all been without Terence Gravy?
You may not have heard of Terence Gravy but he is a musical pioneer, or at least he was back in 1928. It was a very different time back then; full of cakes and misery. Terence was born in a small log shed in the back garden of WG Grace. Fast forward twenty-five years and Terence is twenty-five years old and studying English Literature at the University of Struggling Writers. It was here that he started writing poetry and his most famous and accomplished poem was ‘Here Ye, Here Ye’. You also may not have heard of this poem however take some time to search it out.
“Oh how I long for thee, sweet maiden alone,
We could play some chess at your home”
‘Here Ye, Here Ye’ is the first known text to offer the rhyming couplet of ‘home’ and ‘alone’. Indeed without this most pop songs from the last fifty years would have suffered, or maybe not even have existed at all. Georgie ‘Buckfast’ Cannon may have been the first to rhyme ‘lady’ with ‘baby’, again another pioneer who remains in the shadows, but Terence set the standard. I hope everyone reading this will raise a muffin and toast his legend.
October 5th, 2010
After recently re-discovering the utterly discusting and quite frankly disturbing picture of the smug Will Young alike who was beaming out smuggish vibes from the front of that Specsavers windows I thought that surely since then other smuggers, as they have been tagged as, would have come to the surface to rival Kev.
As it happens on my travels not many have come up, that is until I was greeted with the poster for the new film ‘Letters To Juliet’, yet another dreary wander into romantic comedy with some American in somewhere in Europe. Whilst the woman may take a few smug points it is the grinning goblin to her right which takes centre stage. Chris Egan, who I have investigated and has quite a sincere face normally, manages to out-smug the rest of the world only using three quarters of his face which is an amazing achievement.
Unfortunately I couldn’t locate a copy of that picture and so sought a semi-smug replacement:
June 14th, 2010
On Wednesday this week, I visited the place where Kev Head works and toured the extensive and boring facilities. In my time there I completed three major tasks:
- Getting a little badge with my name on it
- Eating fajitas in the charming rustic canteen
- Inspecting Kev’s work environment and desk
In performing my post-fajita inspection of his desk I proceeded to wrap a bottle of correction fluid in blue insulating tape, and remove it from the premises secreted about my person. It is now in my posession.
Stolen item (and other miscellaneous items)
This marks the end of my crime spree. Bwa.
April 25th, 2010
There has been a rise of a brand new phenomena in the United Kingdom whereby politeness has reached a fresh level of stupidity. There is an increasing number of both men and women who experience what can only be described as a Shy Heart Attack. Upon discovering they are having a heart attack they then decide not to tell anyone and proceed as though nothing is wrong. If they are questioned about it they are more likely to shrug it off and carry on eating their salad rather than make a fuss.
Linda Apples is one of these people. “I knew what was happening and even though my first instinct was to scream out in pain and shout for a doctor there was a part of me that couldn’t do it. I didn’t want all those people in the cafe staring at me so I chose to sit at my table, finish my profiteroles and then quietly take the bus to the hospital.”
The British public have always been known for their high level of stiff upper lip but this has got both government watchdogs and members of the medical profession completely baffled. “Fair enough don’t cause a scene if your dog has pooped in your tea, ” said Dr. Miles Guhungus, “but if your heart has stopped working properly for the love of God do something! What if the last thing you did with your life was to walk in an awkward fashion in the direction of your local surgery with a forced smile on your face?”
More and more people are succumbing to it. In the first quarter of the year a total of nine men and seven women encountered Shy Heart Attacks, with a possible three others to follow by June. Various reasons have been listed for doing such a thing including, “I didn’t want the restaurant owner to think I hated his salmon fillets so I stayed to eat the whole thing,” and, “Jimmy hates it when I cry. He said all the other dads thought I was a wuss so I sucked it in and finished that triathlon.”
April 24th, 2010
In one of the biggest, “duh!” moments thus so far seen within the British Isles due to the overwhelming icy winter this year, the recession and the high interest in fish and chips over the summer the UK is shortly running out of salt. Mines are empty. Shakers are shaking nothing.
“We all saw this coming,” advised Chief of Staff at Salt, located in Hampshire, the leading supplier and manufacturer of salt in this country. “We told them that eventually the demand would reach such high limits that our machines wouldn’t be able to cope. Even at full pelt we’re turning over less than half of what we are being asked for.”
In fact in the last few days most of the salt factories have seen a number of thefts and bizarre instances that can only be described as intrusions. One woman was caught on camera trying to season her sea bass by dipping it in one of the rock salt vats to cater for a dinner party for eight, including herself, at her home eighty miles away. Three men each armed with a bottle of tequila and a shot glass climbed the fences to do slammers for eight hours before the security guard heard songs coming from underneath the bins. “It’s just madness,” said Cat Deely.
In light of this Local Councils in certain areas have joined together with the police force to help combat one of the problems from this harsh December. Kingston Upon Hull have enlisted the assistance of all the drunks picked up on the evening rounds to help remove dangerous patches of ice on the roads and pathways. “It’s a particularly controversial scheme I admit but if it means saving people’s lives then I’m all for it,” revealed PC Bobby McFee, “all they have to do it drop their trousers and walk forwards. How hard is that?”
A lot of the drunkards are keen to help. A few can barely stand up. Some can’t even open their eyes to check if they can drop their trousers. It is both a touching and disgusting scene when witnessed. Trevor Winnings, picked up Wednesday night, had this to add: “Ah did it an’… an’ I did it with a sens… a sensss a somethin’ an’ then ah went home and wet the bed.”
Whether or not this will pick up in other, slightly more trendier and more sensible parts of the country is only speculative at this moment in time.
December 27th, 2009
News has been flooding in from across the globe as the Newsboost team is alerted to the fact that news doesn’t just happen on their doorsteps; it steps out of those cushy £1000.00 a month batchelor pads and into the streets, then takes a quick flight to somewhere abroad like Gibralter Gibratlor Spain and sets up shop quicker than Diane Lane.
Over in America it has been reported that a man from Houston, Texas has been taking songs a little too literally. Javis Jarmedy, 33, is well-known in the state for having an eccentric personality and sense of humour. Since being bought a radio on his last birthday in July he has been exposed to a wealth of musical bounty such as Huey Lewis and the News and Lindisfarne. Unfortunately this has had an adverse effect on Mr Jarmedy: in the last week alone he has spent 48 hours coming up with all the things he would do for love, wrote 17 letters to Bonnie Tyler confirming he was the hero she was looking for and sold most of his possessions, including his house, to sit quietly on top of a Bible in the hope that it would get the attention of Bon Jovi. Which it didn’t.
“I don’t regret any of my actions,” a slightly worse for wear Mr Jarmedy told local press, “I’ve spent most of my life doing things I couldn’t be ding dang bothered with and well sir, this finally makes sense. Shoot me if I’m wrong!”
It got worse though. For six days in September Mr Jarmedy trawled through every Walmart in the surrounding area, putting rings on all the things that he liked. It took the staff several minutes to remove all of the jewellery before escorting him off the premises. Due to bad security though Mr Jarmedy would continually sneak in the back and carry on with his quest until the workers were alerted to his presence again. “He’s a f*cking nusiance!” confirmed one attractive piece of a*s.
The local law enforcers have been put on notice of his behaviour and if Mr Jarmedy carries on in this fashion he will be put away for up to and including several hours for wasting police time. “I am more than happy with that,” he concluded before laughing at a fifty dollar bill and walking off with a black cloud under his arm.
December 9th, 2009
How appreciative are the elderley residents of the UK when they receive the traditional handouts during the Harvest Festival season? We were keen to find out. In order to do so we bugged senior citizen Arthur Bambo for thirteen hours when he went to the bathroom at York train station and these are the shocking results:
“What do we have here, right, lets start with the tins. There’s not even a label on that one, that’ll be interesting. Probably some weird meat or horrible shrunken vegetables in brine. Mmmm, lovely brine. I’d rather drink that than touch the veg. Okay, tin of carrots… five months out of date. Great. What the… cream of soup soup? Cream of what? Just soup? How can you… holy moley.”
Five minutes later.
“Wheat Bisks. Ha, that’s just Wheatbix but with a silly name. Such a rip off these days, why can’t they just come up with their own cereal instead of pawing off others? Wheat Bisks. What the hell is a bisk anyway? Probably just a spelling error. Oh oh here we go, now we’re into the quality items. Frozen ox feet, already dripping. Why didn’t anyone say there were frozen items at the bottom of the bag? I can’t eat these now, not that I would really want to if they were still frozen. That’s beside the point.”
Two minutes later.
“You have got to be kidding me. Stockings? Why… I bet they ran out of bags for men so they gave me a ladies one. Charming. Next I’ll find… yep, vanishing cream. Candles. Perfume? (pft… sniff sniff) that wouldn’t smell out of place in a cesspool… I best open a window… oh damn the key is in the other room… eugh, I… oh dear…”
The answer? Not very.
October 20th, 2009
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