Posts filed under 'Kev'
Increasing pressure has today been inflicted upon the world by a large group of Americans obsessed with the motion picture ‘Back To The Future II’. They are stating that, with less than five years before we reach the year 2015, they are very disappointed with the lack of progress in the fields of science that were implied in the film.
“It’s awful,” says hasbeen wunderkinder Lars Inuit who is the spokesperson for the group Get Back To The Future, “We’ve no hover cars, no hover boards. Last week I went into a diner and there wasn’t a monitor with Ronald Regan on it telling me what the day’s specials were. I don’t really think there is enough time for the technology to reach this level anymore. What are we supposed to do?”
With not really having anyone from the world to speak on behalf of the world the United Nations decided to balance a donkey on a beachball for seven minutes as a direct response to the claims from the group. When the donkey only managed thirty seconds it was rushed away into a back room and replaced with a cardboard cut out.
We asked Kevin Hill Science Master, leader in the field of tasting his own mouth, about the news. “I’ve seen the film but it’s never had an effect on me. I mean what’s the point in finding out what is happening in a few years time when we’ve only just reached the point where we can taste our own mouths? We need to focus and stick to the basics.”
A similar group appeared towards the end of the twentieth century when fans on the cult television series ‘Space 1999’ were appauled that the citizens of planet earth were not living on the moon and travelling around in shoddy trains.
May 12th, 2010
It was late on the Thursday of the 6th May. I had just returned home with my small counterpart and pushed some nutrients into my face when I discovered a strange card lying on my bed. It appeared to have some writing and possibly some diagrams, both of which were illegible. In order to carry on with my evening I placed them to one side.
Imagine my surprise then when a further nine arrived on my doorstep the next day. Each contained a number and again further words and pictures that seemed to be describing some event or events to which I had not been part of. I hadn’t a clue where to start even after referring them to one of the younger generation who seemed to relish the indescribable and the incoherant.
Then came Saturday and further shocks. Two more cards were left hanging from my postbox. I now appeared to have a full set of something. Several evenings have passed by since then and I am determined to discover the fiend or fiends who are toying with my mind. Any fresh evidence will follow.
May 10th, 2010
Okay, so I had some oranges before I went to bed last night. I can only presume this is why I had such strange dreams. It was as follows:
“I was back in Garforth and I was on my way to see alt-Americana heroes My Morning Jacket who were playing up towards Castleford. Instead of getting a lift or catching the bus I jumped on a lorry which was going in the same direction, and who should be driving the lorry but Josh Homme and the rest of the Queens of the Stone Age. I hid at the back, not wanting to get in the way, and when we eventually got to the venue through what seemed like acres and acres of winding roads I immediately ran up to Mr Homme and asked if I could buy a vinyl copy of their last album ‘Era Vulgaris’. What he was clutching, however, was a vinyl copy of their second album pressed between three other records I couldn’t make out. He told me that he was saving this for someone else and disappeared inside.
The venue must have been a barn or something, albeit one with a tiny stage at the front and a small bar with merchandise at the back. I asked if they had any copies of ‘Era Vulgaris’ but unfortunately they did not. I then realised I had lost my ticket but as I was already inside didn’t worry about that fact too much. Noel Fielding was there. I asked to buy a small Dime bar to use as a comedy moustache and after much badgering the brunette behind the bar agreed to sell this to me because she was tired of my conversation.”
Then I woke up. I can understand about the Dime Bar but not much else. Both of you have degrees in Dreamology; what does it mean?
April 6th, 2010
So, as it goes, that Geordies start and end sentences with the same words, I decided to call an emergency luncheon with two gentlemen to try and stop the slide of pouringbeans.com into obscurity.
“Mr Brek,” I shouted across the room, and immediately he saw who and what my purpose was, “over here,” I continued and then I added, “you div!” to which he burst into laughter like a raptor. When the tears had subsided we sat down and ordered two plates of coffee and half a bagel of juice. The morning was spiffing and all the more for it because it was breakfast. We engaged in idle banter whilst waiting for the third of our party to arrive and he did, as always, struggling to stand up with a girl on each arm. “Mr Charms,” I ordered like a whistle in a pantry, “over here,” and that is where I left my chant.
He stumbled up, rested his head on his hands and slurred nonsense for the next twenty minutes. We could always see through the facade – why bother? He’s clearly not what we’re looking for. Nonetheless his company was appreciated. When the cutlery was cleared away we had forgotten the reason for coming and said adieu in the nicest possible way that didn’t involve cider.
March 23rd, 2010
So it’s almost over yes, I admit that, but what I won’t admit is defeat when we all stand on the jaws of success. The jaws of triumph. The jaws of not defeat. We have only two more days left of 2009 which has been the worst 2009 I have ever come across. If I ever do come across another 2009 I will be sure to boot it up the backside before it has a chance to turn around and gaze into my wonderful face.
So… what should 2010 start with? Unfortunately it would appear as though the mascot has re-surfaced as the way of grabbing attention from the general public. Compare the Market managed it with a meerkat in a dressing gown. Churchill continues to have a nodding dog that sounds like Vic Reeves. Awful, awful advert for Go Compare has an awful, awful opera singer and a terrible pun at the end. So what do we do? We jump on the bandwagon of course!
We will have to sit down and think about this for a while. Luckily I did a lot of that over the Christmas period so the majority of it is almost done. What I was thinking when it comes to a mascot for da Beans it would have to be something that you would instantly link us to. So I’ve narrowed it down to two possibles:
1) A Badger with a limp
2) The Knitted Beaver
I think we would have more chance with the beaver given the rich and wondrous history he has given to us all. We could have a stupid tagline like, “Beev-er? Done that? Then try Pouring Beans Dot Com!” What does the focus group think?
December 29th, 2009
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
As I write this there is a reindeer trying to steal my biscuits, Ian is playing a tune on a mushroom and Sarah is sulking because she doesn’t have the mushroom.
BTW Reuben isn’t going to get the magic skateboard he wanted for chirstmas.
Sarah still wants the mushroom.
December 18th, 2009
Gerry used to have a great job.
“It was my life, and I loved everything about it. That job was me and I still am that job. If it was that easy to let go I would have done a long time ago. I really would.”
Gerry is a giant. Between 1987 and 1999 his legs were the tunnel just before the turn off for High Wycombe on the M40 in the South of England. Not many people are aware that the Government employed giants in this capacity to cover large sections of roads.
“Originally it was to save money with construction costs. They told us that it took twenty years to build a tunnel and we believed them. It was only later that we found out the figures were wrong, that they’d lied to us. The workers who were going to be employed to make the tunnels would throw rubbish at us as they drove past shouting, “Job stealers!” and “Faddy Long Legs!” but it’s hard to hear anything when they’re shooting past you at 90mph. I thought they were gloating about their facial hair.”
Gerry still looks back on those twelve years with a lot of fondness and warmth. A lot of his friends were also employed in the same scheme.
“Samantha was the overpass on the M5 near Bristol. Danny would double as the tunnel near Birmingham city centre and that one as you come out of Manchester depending on what day it was. My best friend Liam was only a few miles down the road from me and we’d spend most of the afternoon talking about sheep. Liam loved sheep.”
When the budget cuts were announced in the summer of 1999 a lot of what the government considered to be unnecessary services were abandoned including penguin traffic cones, squirrel dusters in the House of Commons and the Giant bridges. Gerry was the last to go having done it the longest. He remembers vividly the last day.
“I didn’t want to do it anymore. I had lasted all that time and this was the only day I didn’t want to do it. I kept picking up cars and using them to pick my nose. A few people were shocked, they had never realised it was a giant and not a tunnel. They ran screaming from their vehicles. The army were almost called in until Jimmy Saville, running his thirtieth marathon that year, stepped in and sorted out the situation. I still owe him a pint.”
Since leaving Gerry has had a varied and ultimately unsatisfying series of jobs that never quite capture the imagination and thrills he experienced from being a tunnel. It is something that practically none of us will ever fully know about.
December 17th, 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
I realised that it has been a disgustingly long time since I posted anything to this ‘ere container of mirth. So, riddled with shame, I decided that, like a pheonix from the flames, I would, triumphantly, rise up to the task before me and, once more, become a worthwhile contributor to this hallowed site.
Unfortunately I have nothing of any particular interest or value to add… Oh, except this nice picture what I drew on a pad at work…
We could turn it into a colouring competition if you like. Prizes for the winner.
December 1st, 2009
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