Posts filed under 'Loins'
As handsome a picture as any you’ll see in the calendar this year. I’m very pleased with this – we went to great lengths to get just the right shot and luckily it all paid off.
EEFY McJEEFY knows a few people in the Admiralty, so we got a knock-down rate of £18,000,000 to hire an aircraft carrier for a fortnight. We sailed it out to the Indian Ocean for just the right shade of blue water, then set it off towards the helicopter (which we stole in Madeira) at full speed. EEFY was up in the copter, lining up the shot, and on his signal I did a fabulous pirouette off the far side of the vessel. Dressed in a see-through nightie and the most fabulous string of pearls, the picture captures me in mid flight as I spin gracefully towards the water. The control tower completely obscures any view of me from EEFY McJEEFY’s vantage point.
A beautiful shot of a single moment in time, captured perfectly, I think you’ll agree. It’s definitely one of my favourites.
July 10th, 2009
Do you remember the days when our websites were just endless lists about things that didn’t mean anything?
Well, ours was I don’t know about yours. It was easy, it was simple, it was just plain fucking lazy let’s face it but every so often it doesn’t hurt to re-vist them for tear-stained nostalgia. So to honour another year of da beans’ existence let me present, in no particular order, the top five weird names from the Metro map I saw before going out tonight.
Drum roll please!
- Lamesley
- Kibblesworth (good name for a dog)
- Biddick (juvenile but funny)
- Wideopen (again, very juvenile)
- Witherwack (my personal favourite)
See? Don’t you wish we could all do lists and be happy?
July 7th, 2009
I have upgradede all of the gubbins that makes this stack o’pap work.
This has changed the back-office stuff, and I’ve no idea what we’ve gained/lost or how it works, but it doesn’t nag me to update it no when I log in.
Enjoy
June 23rd, 2009
Hey kids, this world is in dire need of some excitement and joy and I am here to spread it with the help of a couple of friends of mine. I think you’ve HEARD of them. Hu hah! Hu hah!
There is nothing better than stretching out on the sofa, sticking a film on and watching it. But what would you do if you couldn’t hear what was going on? You wouldn’t use subtitles. Subtitles are written by unhappy slackers who like messing with your minds, and what is written is never what is said in the actual film.
You’ve just bought the best of Fleetwood Mac and whip out the old player to listen to that futuristic vinyl sound. But what’s this? Stevie Nicks is singing but there’s only silence. The neighbours downstairs are dancing to ‘Go Your Own Way’ and you can only stare sadly at the tear-stained record cover.
It’s because you don’t have them, you don’t have what everyone needs. What does everyone need? Everyone needs EARS. Everyone loves EARS.
Welcome my friends to the Magic of Ears!
May 26th, 2009
Following on from last month’s piece about moody badgers this week we are looking at the damage that drunk owls are having not on their natural habit and the English countryside but also on society itself.
Owls. Easy to spell and say, but if you were one and you were drunk could you still manage? A recent poll discovered that 87% of owls spent more than five days a week getting hammered. The question is why? As an animal their lives are so free of stress it’s utterly insane to try and reason with the facts, that is until you bury beneath the surface of what was once nature’s Bank Holiday Weekend Megasale. We spoke to an owl who wishes to remain anonymous.
“I… I don’t want to but I can’t help myself. It’s all too much. The mouses and the flying and the dark. I woke up this morning and pissed on a sheep. D’ya know what that does to a person? I hate eating toast when the butter goes runny. Idiots. All of them. God, it’s warm in here. Sorta funky like. Can you smell that?”
It would be fair to say that I’ve spent hours more productively than during that interview. It would also be fair to say that since the invention of the owl nothing has propelled them into the forefront of the media than the day JK Rowling took up a pen and starting twiddling it across paper. The Harry Potter books more than quadrupled the interest in owls. My son, Archie, didn’t know what colour owls were until then. He thought they were purple. I explained that he was thinking of a beetroot and we both felt much better after that.
Across the night mice are cheering because their once deadly predators are struggling to undo their trousers let alone try and catch them. Mice populations are tumbling out of control, like an owl after a crate of gin. Local government watchdogs in Surrey have tried to set up AA Meetings with little success, having made the bad decision to hold the meetings across the road from three pubs and the country’s largest keg of ale. Can anything be done to salvage the honour of this once majestic bird?
April 27th, 2009
People are being put under increasing pressure to buy carbonated soft drinks, a recent study has revealed.
Men and women between the ages of 21 and 47 are having their co-workers, bosses and relative unknowns come up to them in the work place and force them to buy numerous canned beverages. The phenomena, known as ‘Can Bullying’, originated from the US but has found its way into UK via a series of carefully administrated plastic straws across the Atlantic.
George Loft, head of BIW (Bullying Is Wrong), has commented, “This is unacceptable, totally unacceptable. I myself have suffered ‘Can Bullying’ first hand and the immense pressure is truly frightening. People have to know that this is out there and it can affect you. The forty-eight year olds should be thanking their lucky stars.”
Victims have said that it will start off with a simple conversation but suddenly turns sour. The bully will then continue to repeat the same lines over and over again, usually asking whether the person would like a drink or not. They refuse to leave until the victim has given in and handed over the correct change for which the bully will then vacate the area and return with a cold infusion of some sort, mostly carbonated and made of vegtables.
Government Watchdogs have refused to comment, although they probably wouldn’t have told us anything anyway.
April 1st, 2009
Today I used the word ‘vestibule’ and giggled like a school girl.
Does that make me wrong?
March 19th, 2009
Good Afternoon and welcome to today’s nightly edition of Question Time. With me are two members of the public burning with desires to answer questions of a slightly significant nature that may touch on issues but really they don’t and we will thinly veil them with large words to make you think they do.
On my right, Kevin Head aka The Wizard. On my left, Chris De Mar “Bomb” Shell. Let’s begin:
1. Unnecessary roadworks months is well underway. Tell me, do you consider reams and reams of plastic orange borders a problem or a joyous scene?
2. Gentlemen who go to the toilet, see that someone else has been before them, flush the toilet, have a wee then flush the toilet again. Are you one of those people and can you defend the second flush?
Whip crack away. Whip crack away.
March 18th, 2009
Living in Newcastle you do get a fair share of crazies coming up to you in the street. Some keep their distance and allow you to watch their madness from afar. Here are some of my favourites from the last few weeks:
- Crazy drunks with impressive yet dirty facial hair (at 7 in the evening).
- The strange man who works in the same building albeit on a different floor. When he gets into the lift he focuses on the bottom corner and refuses to look up. It’s the strained expression on his face that makes me wonder how much he hates social interaction.
- The drunken couple on the Metro; another classic example that unravels itself like a story. They both get on but clearly have had an arguement so sit at opposite ends of the train. After a couple of minutes the woman gets up and paces down the Metro and starts slapping the man. Then they enter into this bizarre display (on the seats opposite me no less) that looks as though they are trying to fight and f*ck at the same time, sometimes kissing, sometimes hitting. Twice they fall off their seats into a heap on the floor. I crank the Klaxons up to 10 and look desperately out the window.
- The dog with the huge p*nis (and flaunts it at you as he runs past).
My life would be so dull without them.
March 12th, 2009
Dear the 1980’s,
How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while. Come to think of it you haven’t been in touch for at least, what, nineteen years now? That is quite a long time. Being only twenty-five that’s most of my life. Have you been up to much? Occasionally something will come up and I’ll think of you: Thundercats, Transformers, A-Ha and the likes of school boy memories that I have since forgotten about or shunned for much more up-to-date stuff like the fact that you can now buy mobile phones that do almost anything. You tried those didn’t you 1980’s? You tried so hard but it was such a brick you can’t help but look back and laugh. Some things were acceptable in the 80’s, according to some berk, however that clearly wasn’t.
You also tried games consoles too. I had to wait ten minutes for my brother’s BBC Master to load up Ziggy and by then I had to go for my bath. It was pretty pathetic. Rubbish even! Now you can crack off some inane RPG online like World of Warcraft within minutes and play with people all over the world, can sneak around in realistic environments in Metal Gear (do you remember that? Your version had dodgy colours) or play Mario Kart on the shitter. Such things were just a dream to you 1980’s.
I don’t mean to be mean but when you keep away this long I cannot help but feel bitter, like you couldn’t even be bothered to write or leave a message or anything. Occasionally something like ‘We Love 1980’s’ would come on and I would get excited thinking that you were coming back. Nothing. Monster Munch and Whispas were returned to our shops. Nothing. It’s just not good enough and I can’t just hang around every day waiting and expecting the same thing we had nineteen years ago. So it’s over, 1980’s. Just go and don’t even try any snivelling apology. Stay away and never come back.
Yours Sincerely
Ian McIver
P.S. Although if you do have some Lucky Charms left I’ll take some. I’m not paying to import the mo’ fo’s from the US – they can whistle dixie for all I care!
February 3rd, 2009
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