Archive for March, 2011
For some reason it won’t let me upload a copy of the letter I received from Procter & Gamble. So here’s the written version:
Dear Mr. McIver
Thank you Ian for your letter.
It’s great to know that you enjoy using our product and I’ve passed your kind comments to the departments concerned.
I would also like to say thank you for the lovely poem you wrote for us.
The Fairy liquid doesn’t have a gender but we can say that the Baby icon for Fairy is a Boy and he is called Bizzie.
We can confirm that there is no long term side effect to your hand fromusing Fairy.
Thank you again for getting in touch.
Yours Sincerely
Consumer Relations Department
I consider that a net gain all round. Would anyone like to suggest another company to write to, or would they like to submit their own contributions?
March 24th, 2011
As with most dreams I appear in a place where I have no idea how I got there. This particular time it is a bus rolling through some city centre, and as I stare around trying to make sense of what is going on Nancy from Hollyoaks pops up from the seat in front and kisses me. Half of her hair is blonde and the other half is red. As soon as she has started though she is done and disappears, leaving me sort of kissing the air in quiet bewilderment.
I find some papers on my knees; official documents I think. Then a guy sitting on the other side of the bus, who looks like an old prospector, comes and sits next to me. He tells me that I’m on my way to Sheffield City Council and that the bus should arrive in the next half an hour or so, even though there’s no mention of why I’m going there. We sit and discuss numerous things. The scenary is nice.
Then when I least expect it Nancy from Hollyoaks pops up again and this time grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me into another kiss. This time it’s longer. As a precautionary method to try and stop her disappearing I wrap one of my arms around her back but it’s no use. She’s gone shortly after. The prospector, who stopped talking, now continues as though it never happened.
He gets off the bus leaving me and a few other passengers. The sun shines through the window and we’re no longer in the city; we’re rolling through luscious green valleys and hillsides. I close my eyes and forget about where I’m supposed to be going. Sadly, Nancy doesn’t come back.
But what does it all mean?
March 23rd, 2011
I came across this in the library yesterday. I took a picture but I can’t transfer them from my phone to the t’internet. Nice.
March 17th, 2011
Dear Proctor and Gamble,
I have to tell you I love your product Fairy so much. It is one of the consistencies in modern life; a product that continues to clean to a satisfactory level time after time after time. So much so I’ve written a poem about it:
Fairy Satisfaction
Oh how it cleans, oh how it sheens
Everything sparkles after using so little
Turning my plates that were dirty and brittle
Into steaming great monsters of shine
No need to work my behind
A few wipes and I’m done
That’s the beauty and the fun of Fairy
My hero
Or heroine
Or whatever gender washing-up liquid is
If I could I would use it for other things in fact occasionally I wash myself with it. Not in the washing up bowl of course but in the shower. So, two questions:
- Does washing up liquid have a gender and
- Are there any long-term side effects of using it on human skin?
Thanks
Yours Faithfully
Ian McIver
March 16th, 2011
The merry blender doesn’t have a gender
It swirls and twirls and slices
All the things you throw in and a couple of spins
Later, a smoothie! Oh holy devices!
It never looks down, never appears unsound,
It’s always of sound body and mind.
If I could give it a name it’d be Churny Dufraine
Or something equally glamarous and kind.
A sturdy companion of sorts, like a dog or a horse,
It’ll take any challenge you throw.
But nothing too big, like a pineapple. Try a fig
As otherwise the fuses will blow.
March 10th, 2011
…
A young woman is sat in a restaurant. She’s sipping a cup of coffee, she’s got so many problems going around in her mind and she doesn’t know what to do.
Woman: God damn, I’ve got so much going on in my head. I can’t seem to focus on anything.
Takes another sip of her coffee.
Woman: Today is not a good day. I need something to take my mind off of…
All of a sudden her attention is diverted away from the hot brown grit in her cup, there’s a pungent aroma floating through the restaurant. She sniffs the air.
Woman: Hmmm, what’s that?
The woman walks down the centre aisle of the restaurant. There is a man sat at a table about to take the first sip of his soup.
Man: Yes? Can I help?
Woman: Oh sorry, I thought you were eating a sandwich.
The man shoots a confused look her way.
Man: What made you think that?
Woman: It was the pungent smell, it reminded me of a sandwich I once knew.
Man: Take a seat, and tell me more. In fact let me crack open a Pepperami whilst you talk. Excuse me.
The man opens a Pepperami and offers a bit to the woman.
March 9th, 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
I don’t even watch a lot of television anymore, and if I do thanks to modern technology I fast-forward the f*ckers whenever I get the chance. One particular recent t*rd of note however keeps cropping up between the hither, the thither and whatever is left.
That advert about Disneyland / Disneyworld where the parents tell their children and they all erupt into a screaming void of excitement. As cute as it was the first time by the second and third rounds you despise both the kids and the mums and dads. Why? It’s so horribly scantily-clad it’s like a page three model; zero detail, nothing more, a simple and direct message of you should take your kids to Disney because then the magic begins and if you don’t you may as well throw yourself into a bonfire for denying your kin this level of happiness. The worst one is the moron who took time to make a sort of screensaver for his television so, his children with their faces so close they could see through the mechanism itself, they read a delightful message of ‘We… are… going… to… Disneyworld.’
Oh, and any advert featuring Martine McCutcheon should have vinegar rubbed on it first to remove any impurities.
March 7th, 2011
I know we complain about the lack of futuristic things and how disappointing the future has turned out to be, and quite frankly I don’t want to change that tide by swooping in and saying how great everything is and how content I am with how things are. Because I’m not. Far from it.
I think that instead of furthering man’s advance into space or looking for similarities between dogs and why they lick their balls or whatever it is scientists investigate these days we should start a petition for futuristic things. Let me start the list off:
1. Robot Pants – not that I’m really so lazy that I don’t have the energy to remove them myself but I think some sort of crazy trousers would go down a treat. Imagine if they could heat you during winter months or blow cold air around when it’s hot. When you take them off they stand guard by your door or there could be a switch you can trigger to make loud noises when approached by elderly ladies conducting surveys, making them scurry away.
2. Gadget Gauntlets – one button could extend to reveal Spiderman-like stretchy goo stuff allowing you to climb tall buildings or harness criminals, another could reveal a tin opener or flares to distract would-be attackers.
3. Lasers – it’s an obvious one, and one which would of course be used by criminals for nefarious purposes. If they could develop one slightly stronger than a laser pen so I could use it to melt marshmallows instead of having to savage them with a cigarette lighter that would be a big help.
March 3rd, 2011
Hooray! Hooray! It’s the start of March today!
After having bling-blinged my way through January (spent too much over Christmas, eating nothing but tinned ravioli and soup for lunch) and February (spent too much after not spending anything during January, eating nothing but tinned ravioli and soup for lunch) it’s nice to settle in a month that only contains one birthday, as far as I am aware, and nothing much else. Not that I will be needlessly throwing my money hither and thither; it just means there’ll be a little less worrying and a little more shaking my loins with joy.
Another point I should make. At first I thought it would be a good idea to change the name of the month March to March-tober but then that would be carrying on the spectacle of dark mornings and chilly trips at lunchtime so that’d be a big nay nonny no nay on the No Scale. Something else that also topped the No Scale with a spectacular nay nonny was the rise in train fares and the band Frankie and the Heartstrings.
March 1st, 2011