Once upon a time there was a man named Steve. He lived a fairly regular life full of routine and things to do. He worked in an office from 9am until 5pm, which was customary in those days, and enjoyed healthy sexual relations with many women he encountered in the workplace and on nights out.
One day Steve was putting away some washing when he noticed a pair of jogging pants he didn’t recognise. They were grey and ugly but as it was Sunday and nobody does anything Sunday he put them on and went through into his living room. Steve decided that he was going to watch his favourite film – Mannequin starring Andrew McCarthy and Kim Catteral. Then if he felt really adventurous he would also go for Splash Too and something starring Jennifer Aniston (he has an awful taste in films).
When Steven open the DVD box though he shrieked in horror; the disc was scratched beyond all recognition! When had it happened? Last week when the shelf broke and all the DVDs fell down? Was it during the Halloween party where two out of three people had broken something in his flat? It didn’t matter, all that did matter was that watching Mannequin today was completely out of the question. With his head in his hands Steve felt low. In what he believed to be a pointless endeavour he wiped the disc over his jogging pants to somehow help. He lifted the disc up and there it was; his reflection starring back at an unscratched clean surface. Through his tears he couldn’t believe his eyes. He rubbed his eyes in an unconvincing manner and checked again; there was no doubt about it, the marks were gone. Steve jumped in the air and whooped with joy.
That afternoon was the most rewarding afternoon Steve had ever had. With every graze, mark and scratch he would wipe the media on his jogging pants and they would come up sparkling. Steve even found it worked on CDs, his television and the toaster too. Unfortunately because he wasn’t the brightest of fellows this was as far as it went. Had he taken the time to look into this phenomena more he would have discovered the magic healing qualities of the jogging pants including the ability to stitch bones, remove infection and un-break necks.
Tragic.
In the end he threw them out and they were eaten by a donkey.
February 14th, 2011
Ian
You see me. As in me. Right, well here it is. The thing is, is that I know that I want to phone Marshall and catch up and talk about whatever stuff it is that has happened since we last spoke. That’s the thing. The problem is that I don’t. Or if I do, hes busy. So he’ll ring me back, but then I’m busy. So I’ll forget to ring him for a bit, then I’ll call him up and he’s busy. So maybe a few days later he’ll remember to call me back, but the problem there you see is that I’m busy…
Do you SEE where this is going? Nowhere, that’s where. Nowhere fast.
February 11th, 2011
Kevil
There was crisis across the country last night and this morning as it was discovered that the CHAPS process, that’s Clearing House Automated Payment System to you, me and Mrs MaGinty, broke down after an undisclosed billionaire tried to transfer all of his fortune into a Halifax Instant Savers account.
The account, which does not allow more than £3,000.00 overall, was flattened, squished and destroyed as an army of coins and notes chose to enter into open conflict. This occured at 4.45pm GMT yesterday afternoon. Immediately the problem spread to the rest of the banking system as phone operators at emergency services were inundated by call after call from nervous tellers and staff warning that all the money was spilling into the street. To make matters worse, in what can only be described as utterly bizarre, not only did the CHAPS collapse but the chaps collapsed.
Reports are coming in from various Southern states of the US that cowboys were dropping their trousers at an alarming rate shortly after 5pm. It was only when Florence Feedbank, a beautiful scientist from Bath, put two and two together that everyone else in the world went, “ahhhh!” and went back to whatever they were doing.
At the time of press we believe the CHAPS and chaps are all back to normal.
February 10th, 2011
Ian
Hello.
February, I said to myself. February is the time to get involvulised again. The time to re-relationate yourself with Da Beans. To do some contributioning. So here I am. They say you should write about what you know, and what I know are the THINGS I see around me on the desk.
- Bendy desk lamp
- Birthday present for someone whose birthday was in mid-January
- Pen shaped like a dinosaur on which messages can be recorded, and which if you press the button now, has Kev’s voice saying “rar”
- Post-it note reminding me to buy cake tickets
There will be more later, when I know more, and thus I am able to write about more of what I know, when there is more of it.
More.
February 3rd, 2011
Chris
FACE!
February 2nd, 2011
Ian
I haven’t done much recently. I’ve been sat around looking fat, being fat and seeing fat. I heard fat a few times too. What I need is a project to occupy my time and due to the absence of money, funds and general wealth I will unfortunately be forced to improvise. I did consider a few things, and I forgot them and then I got worried.
There are a number of professions in the world that either are dying out for lack of interest or get the piss taken out of them because they’re dull and stuck in the past. I wouldn’t mind one of these jobs because I’m sure I wasn’t made for sitting in an office all day every day (at least I think that’s the case). I would happily make barrels or sweep the floors or do little dances for pennies. What are these missing though? Yes, that’s right; a bit of sex.
I could organise some sexy girls and then visit places to advertise these amazing jobs with the aid of tantalising visuals and seductive imagery. Everything looks better with my face next to it. FACT.
So I’m pulling on my least-smelly clothes and doing a tour, although now it occurs to me that in order to get the sexy girls to advertise the jobs I will need to recruit the sexy girls which will in turn need its own campaign to get them. But how do you recruit sexy girls? More sexy girls? And how do I recruit those sexy girls? Carrots on string?
I think I’m gonna have to sit down and do some numbers.
February 1st, 2011
Ian
Having triumphed accidentally in the music quiz at the Tanners last night I am a whopping £6.50 up on my usual scattering of money. But then I am posed the question of what to do with such a haul. I keep getting told that we’re in a recession however I can’t say I’ve really been paying it too much attention, unlike my fried egg this morning. The last time someone complained about money I spat cigar smoke in their face and ran over them in my Mercedes.
I am presented with several options and I think I need a little guidance in order to make sure my winnings are used in the best possible way. Here are my current options.
- I licked a yoghurt pot too hard last night and cut my tongue, so perhaps some proper tongue plasters?
- I’ve always wanted to go mental in a Pound Shop; think of all the scouring pads and toothpaste I could have!
- I could get a copy of ‘Ah… The Name Is Bootsy Baby’ by Bootsy Collins for just over a fiver, although that sealed Yazz LP is completely out of the question.
- A dilapidated flat. Does anyone know of any in the Leeds area? They must be that cheap by now. I bought a garage for tuppence the other day.
Please help me with my endeavours if you can. I would put it to Des’ree but I think she’s exhausted from the previous problem.
January 26th, 2011
Ian
We would like to welcome 90’s female pop singer extraordinaire Des’ree to the Beans fold. She will be acting as Agony Aunt to all you troubled sexy teenagers out there, and possibly any others who have extracurricular problems. So if you have anything you would like Des’ree to assist with contact us at some contact address and we will pass the messages across to her, like our first letter writer did. She is far too ashedmed to use her real name so for the moment we will refer to her using the catchy monikor Trouser-Press Trudie:
Trouser-Press Trudie: Dear Des’ree, I keep having disgusting dreams involving dairy products and celebrities. Last night I woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming about Paddy McGuinness drenched in greek yoghurt. The previous week it was Paul Daniels taking a shower in semi-skimmed milk. Is this normal or should I be making a doctor’s appointment?
Des’ree: Life, oh life, oh life, oh life.
We trust this answers your question Trudie.
January 24th, 2011
Ian
January 21st, 2011
Ian
Of course you can!
Today I have been learning about marmots thanks to an uplifting and insightful piece about them in a book I was reading. They have proved to be quite the page-turning, excellent-digging mammal. Let’s hear some facts about the little geezers:
- Marmots are called marmots but they are also known as groundhogs and wood chucks, which is why when you type their name into google image a bunch of photos of groundhogs appear. Don’t let this confuse you.
- Their scientific name is Marmota Monax, which would be a good name for a femme fetale in a film noir or a super villain in a Spiderman comic. Take note Marvel!
- Unfortunately they do not like humans or owls which will severely affect any future relationship I may have with a marmot. Learning this made me sad for several minutes.
- Their primary food is stuff you would find outside such as grass, dry grass and lightly wetted grass although tell this to the marmot I saw hiding behind a tree in the park pushing a Big Mac into his mouth.
- Marmots are far more interesting and industrious than most of its animal relatives, in fact I’d even go so far as to say they’re probably more industrious than my relatives. They will store food up for the winter several months before winter. Recent developments in Apple technology have also been attributed to marmots.
There. Now if anyone asks you if you know anything about marmots you can pretend you do. Bless the internet and all its little tiny toes.
January 18th, 2011
Ian
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