Our plane got into Frankfurt Hahn at 2pm on Wednesday morning. We picked up some shopping, including some very cheap Jagermeister (bad spelling) from a supermarket called Toom, and headed back. I then proceeded to drink a third of the bottle and woke up on Thursday feeling the burn.
Later on after a day of physical activites which I mostly sat out for we went for a drink in one of the bars down the road. Where we were staying was in the bottom of this valley surrounded by many stunning views. We were dropped off at this grand-looking place over the river and went inside. Germany unfortunately has not really heard of cider much so Siobhan’s brother Bruno found it very hard trying to locate any with no concept of the language and their unwillingness to understand what “fermenting apples” really means. That’s another story.
We sit down with some drinks and Bruno heads to the toilet. He returns a few minutes later.
“I tell you what, they have some weird things here. I couldn’t find the toilets but eventually I came across them.”
“Did you know which ones to go in?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” says Bruno.
“Well, did you know which was male and which was female?” asks Siobhan.
“I think so.”
“Did they have any urinals in the toilets?”
“Erm… no. Look I went in the one that had ‘Damon’ on the door.”
“Damon means women you idiot!” laughs Siobhan.
“I went in that one because it was a guy’s name, I thought it would have to be the gents!”
Germany 1, Bruno 0
August 9th, 2010
Ian
So it began around the turn of the century when that hidden, underground factory in Doncaster started churning out fabricated women that looked real but really they weren’t. They were pretty much all identical as well. You must have seen them for they were many: Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Mandy Moore, Jessica Simpson etc, collectively known as “zombie blondes”. They played their part well and made millions for the South Yorkshire region. But what next for women?
Then came the phenomena that was known as the “piano bints” wherein another rival factory, wanting a cut of the profits, decided to try and muscle in on Doncaster’s territory. They chose the perfect time to strike as the zombie blondes were failing in the charts; nobody wanted them anymore expect for fake nudie shots on the internet. So strode forth the “piano bints”: Delta Goodrem, Lucie Silvas and Vanessa Carlton. Unfortunately they didn’t have the staying power of the zombie blondes. Sure they could play their own instruments but it didn’t matter, they couldn’t keep up. The “piano bints” died out shortly afterwards.
So strode forth another generation of musical women, but what ho, where could they go now? They needed a gimmick, another reason to stand out in-between where Katherine Jenkins belted out the tat and Dolly Parton hollered the classics. Bring forth the kooky women: Florence and the Machine, Marina and the Diamonds, Paloma Faith. They swoosh. They swirl. They sing in high voices and then don’t. It doesn’t matter that Kate Bush did it better and thirty years previous because look at the record sales!
The whereabouts of the factory that produced the kookies is still unknown but let it be known that once we do locate it, well, that would be telling…
August 3rd, 2010
Ian
Good Morning and welcome to the Nonny Market.
The Nonny Market is a brand new and exclusive business only available in selected parts of the country which gives only CERTAIN people the chance to experience the whimsy and wonder. Do you want to be one of those people? Can you sing all the words to ‘China Girl’ by David Bowie? Fill in a ten page document with all your personal details and maybe, just maybe you might be one of the lucky few who get to enter the Nonny Market. Before it goes on general release and any old codger with a codpiece can get in.
There are rules for entering the Nonny Market though. Whilst it does have everything you could ever want ranging from simple items such as bread and milk to luminous uncertainties such as howling guinea pigs, sweaty cheese plants and face magnets you must ensure that you do not touch nor buy any of these. Nothing, nothing at all. They are not for you.
So good luck with the draw. We hope to see you “shopping” at the Nonny Market very soon.
August 2nd, 2010
Ian
Ladies and gentlemen (mainly gentlemen) of the Beans,
I am sure you are as saddened and horrified as I am about the state of things and how stuff is generally very bad in various ways at the moment. It is high time we stopped talking about whatever is not quite right and turned our words into action. That time is now.
I have started by launching a new CAMPAIGN to deal with the many pressing issues facing us all in this modern world in which we live in. The campaign is called STOP, which stands for Sort This Out Please.
You can help by donating all your money, taking all your posessions to a STOP charity shop, resigning from your job in order to spend your every waking moment volunteering in STOP’s many projects and having your friends and family culled so that when you die there is nothing to prevent STOP from taking all your remaining money and worldly possessions.
You can also display the new bumper sticker on your car, train, helicopter or face:
I’m sure you will agree that STOP represents the first vitally important step in fixing whatever problem it is that we’re obviously very worked up about. So it’s time to make your pledge. What will you do to get STOP started?
July 21st, 2010
Chris
I am getting very worried about my present state of mind…
It’s mid-afternoon and I’m going to a party with a friend (no idea who it was). This wasn’t just any party though it was a party being held by tiny guitar genius Prince. It is being held in a huge hall however on the inside it’s not very grandiose; instead it retains the look of a simple working men’s club with aisles of seats, various rooms and a bar on the side. I pull up to the bar for a drink and for some reason there is a rumour spread that you can’t stay at the party unless Prince’s personal physician has checked you out to make sure you’re not ill and won’t pass any illnesses onto him. This seems very strange but my reasoning is that, “this is Prince, not just anyone. I’ll take a quick once over from a quack for an all night drinking sesh.” Something along those loins, lines, lions, lines.
People keep going into a room at the back with a nurse and coming out smiling. I get the impression I’m missing out on something. The strange thing is that we’ve hardly seen Prince at all other than a man, who could have been Prince, standing at the far end of the room on his mobile dressed in a purple suit. Everyone seems to go in before I do and I’m getting pretty nervous as people are starting to leave. I get tapped on the shoulder by a nurse who leads me into a tiny room filled with stacks of chairs and a man in a white coat.
I lie down, he checks me over and does a few initial inspections; no problems. Then he puts some sort of machine over me and examines my inside, which are relatively fine, except for some gunk here and there. The doctor uses a gauze and what looks like a cloth to clean my ribs at the back. It tickles a little. I get no attention whatsoever from any of the nurses, as a few more have appeared since I arrived.
The doctor pats me on the back and tells me everything is fine. I leave the room too with a smile on my face but something doesn’t feel right. Looking down underneath my t-shirt there is a line of huge, awful, bloody vertical stitches stretching from my chest down to my pelvis. Then I wake up.
July 20th, 2010
Ian
So I’m waiting in one of the business parks in Newcastle. It’s a pretty dark evening or it could be early in the morning, there’s light about. A car pulls up and there’s a woman driving with a man around my age sitting in the back. I get in the front. We’re going somewhere but they won’t tell me where it is and for some reason I’m not that bothered.
We get onto a backwards country road and after a couple of miles our way is blocked by reams and reams of thorns and vines. I get out with the guy and we try to hack our way through, the woman remains in the car at the wheel. We cut as best we can and at the top of a hill I see a double decker bus coming at about 80mph hurtling towards us. The woman reverses the car somewhere safe. I climb into a tree but the tree isn’t high enough to take me out of the way of the bus.
I cling there waiting for the inevitable and just as the bus makes contact I wake up.
What does it all mean?
July 17th, 2010
Ian
Lows
Today I have forgotten my Metro pass meaning that I cannot ride on either the Metro or the bus, which is a bit of an inconvenience seeing as I have to use both to pick up Reuben tonight. Therefore I am having to use my lunch break to haul my a*s home to pick it up and return to work within an hour. Can I do it? Only your Wheel Of Thrusting TM can tell you that.
Highs
Last night within the space of two minutes I saw the trailer for not only Toy Story 3 but also the new A Team film coming out at the end of the month. As both a man and a manchild this made me happy beyond belief.
Also to take the edge off the lunch-break-metro-journey-home-within-an-hour scenario I am looking upon it as an earlier insight into what post I may be getting today. And an adventure. Like that film ‘Nick Of Time’ but much better.
July 15th, 2010
Ian
I was attending Siobhan’s birthday party this Saturday just gone. It was going pretty well until this happened:
It would appear that the camera, after taking semi-reasonable photos of me all day, decided that it didn’t want to do that anymore and that turning me into a weird monster was the way forward. I was too distracted by the music and my memory in its current state cannot remember the “point of ming” whereby I turned from being me into Captain No Face Many Chins.
Needless to say I shall do my very best to ensure that this never happens again.
July 13th, 2010
Ian
A fellow work colleague has recently returned from her holiday in the United States where she discovered that for a small fee you can get your FACE put onto… M & M’s. You would think that an M & M, or an M, I never know which one it is, would be too small to house a FACE however Mars seems to think different. After a quick squizz on t’web there is also a website you can peruse at your pleasure:
http://www.mymms.com/customprint_faces/
This wouldn’t be right for the English market. We would need something that was bigger and down to earth, something from our history and our heritage. So here’s what we do; we put FACES onto pasties. With so many flavours (Cornish, Cheese, Steak, Cheese and Beans, Curry) at our disposal there is one for every occasion. We can have birthday FACEs. Imagine opening up a package and there’s you in a photo from your 8th birthday when you were pretending to be a Ghostbuster. Wedding FACEs, Barmitzvah FACEs, Anniversary FACEs.
If we can get some money behind this hound I’m sure we can make it. So, who’s got the cash to support this trash?
July 8th, 2010
Ian
Today I have been spending a lot of my time catching up with US singer-songwriter, actor, filmmaker and director not to mention choreographer Toni Basil.
I have to admit that I was quite naive when it came to the career of Toni Basil. I was not aware that she released her first single as far back as 1966. I was not aware that her debut album had three songs written by Devo on it. I was also not aware that she starred in the films ‘Easy Rider’ and ‘Five Easy Pieces’ and that she was the one who choreographed and directed the Talking Heads video ‘Once In A Lifetime’. The list just goes on and on!
Actually it doesn’t. It goes on for a little bit and stops. You can’t argue with the bubblegum teen fury of a song such as ‘Mickey’. It didn’t get voted No 6 on VH1’s 100 Greatest One Hit Wonders of the 80’s for nothing. It’s just a shame that the original version of the song was called ‘Kitty’ and she changed the words to coincide with the fact that she worked with Mickey Dolenz of the Monkeys during their sixties headf*ck of a film ‘Head’.
Pay particular interest to her 1983 song ‘Shoppin’ from A to Z’ which features a shopping list consisting of various grocery items, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. I am waterin’ at the mouth at the prospect of listening to this tonight.
Look at ME and be inspired.
July 5th, 2010
Ian
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