Mr. Cockall interviews tomorrows geniuses (using song)
Who are you?Â
Elementary Westinghouse
What’s the Idea?
You know how it is. Decorating the spare room, putting up that wallpaper takes so long that you’re left starving hungry before you’re even nearly finished. Tasty Hasty Paste solves that problem.
What is it?
It’s a new formulation of wallpaper paste that lets you get the paper up in record time. It’s also edible, so if you remember to take a spoon in there with you along with the other wallpapering paraphernalia, you can just have a couple of mouthfuls of nutritious paste to keep you going. It’s also the only household adhesive that’s suitable for spreading on toast or muffins. (But not bagels – that’s highly dangerous.)
What does it do?
Tasty Hasty Paste is produced from a specially bred variety of Chronographic Beef. The time-altering properties of this type of meat cause time to appear faster to the paste than it does to the rest of the world. It’s an example of relative time dilation causality that is found in many common bovines. Because it’s made of beef it also has a warm aroma of hot Bovril that will fill any room decorated with it. And who could argue with that?
So what are you gonna do about it?
Nothing (!) Mr. Cockall, it’s all in my head >:)
December 23rd, 2007
Chris
his very last interview show, and Jamie Cullum was on who is a slimy little shit who sings rubbish jazz, however I was immediately struck by his remarkable resemblance to one Mr Peter Doherty, who is ………. anyway, I think they were separated at birth, twins like, only their mother can tell them apart. And Michael Caine was on, and they showed a clip of him 34 years ago, and he bore a remarkable resemblance to Jude Law, so I therefore concur that he must be Jude Law’s love-father.
December 19th, 2007
Auds
Mr. Cockall interviews tomorrows geniuses (using song)
Who are you?Â
Spice Cranford
What’s the Idea?
Chicken envelopes, we’ll beat the post office at their own game!
What is it?
Despite the dodgy-sounding name it is merely stationary, first envelopes and perhaps moving onto paper and greeting cards, that is made from chickens. Mainly the meat however there is the possibility of using the other less edible parts I suppose.
What does it do?
When you get a lovely breast of roast chicken and you first peel the skin back it looks like a blank canvas, like there should be something perhaps written there and there isn’t. We’re all being constantly disappointed. I say take that breast, carve it into an envelope shape and send something through the post be it romantic letter or birthday present it doesn’t matter. Plus when it arrives at the receipants address it’ll smell and probably taste of chicken; that’s never a bad thing in my eyes.
So what are you gonna do about it?
Nothing (!) Mr. Cockall, it’s all in my head >:)
December 19th, 2007
Ian
(it’s not as interesting as it sounds, but it’s as weird as the Rachel Stevens dream)
So I’m walking past Glebelands field during the daytime (even though I live a hundred miles away now) and I noticed a Dalek running across the grass. Curious and when I look a bit closer I can see that he is putting up a huge tent. When this has reached full peak I go inside the tent and notice that the Daleks are selling porn; not Dalek porn but actual human porn. I browse briefly but realise I’m getting those looks from the ones behind the counter, sort of, “buy it or put it down idiot”, so I leave quickly before any tongues start a-wagging.
Later on I’m at me mam’s house and I hear a knock on the door. I open it and right at the end of the path I see an envelope leaning against the gate. This isn’t enough to interest me so I close the door, only to hear another knock. Upon opening it a second time the envelope has gone but I can see Marshall’s head sticking out from the wall to my left. This still isn’t enough to interest me so I close the door and hear a third knock. All that’s left is a small plastic box with a present inside and a futuristic device of holding information. I can’t remember what it looked like but I put the film on and it was sort of a video diary from Marshall about how he chose his Christmas presents and wrote his cards out… but in the style of ‘The Wonder Years’ where you hear his thoughts rather than speaking.
Then I woke up and there was a text from Marshall waiting on my phone. That put the sh*ts up me I can tell you.
December 17th, 2007
Ian
Hello Boys and girls, I have a challenge for you…
I inexplicably and for no reason made this picture this morning at work:
Now I know you’re thinking that that is the best damned thing you’ve seen for ages, but you’d be wrong, clearly. So there.
What I would like you eager pups out there to do is to take this image, and do something with it, add to it, scribble on it, whatever you like. All completed entries should be emailled to me via compemetition@kevil.co.uk by pm Friday, and i’ll put them all in a handy, snack-sized, gallery for you all to enjoy. There may even be a prize!
For the full size file, click here for the jpg, and here for the full png file (6Mb).
Now get cracking!
December 12th, 2007
Kevil
I have now completed scanning of all of the book, and it now exists as a set of colour image files on my hard disk and also inside my brain. It can be seen as a PDF or as a clever Flash thing that lets you click through the images. It can also be seen as slightly questionable behaviour for three grown men.
But before anything can be done – anything at all – we need the glorious Mr. Kev to somehow make these items appear upon this website so they can be viewed with our eyes, minds and hearts.
Glorious Mr. Kev, lead on! We are your tragic minions!
December 9th, 2007
Chris
I hate him. At least with Kirsten Dunst and Nigella Lawson there was a slight intoxicating whiff of some sort of appreciation in there (for ‘Eternal Sunshine’ and her nips respectively) but he’s got no redeeming features. His last single involved him running in the video and, surprise surprise, his new ones has a bit of running too. People who have simple rhymes like ‘stupid’ and ‘cupid’ and ‘devotion’ and ‘potion’ just make my skin crawl. It’s up there with James Blunt-style cringiness.
Plus the way he sings is down with Kate Nash as irritating beyond belief. “Let’s over pronounce everything because we’re from darn sarth and we need to show it!” Fat chance. Just another artist championed by idiots like NME who are desperate for another singer songwriter to try and write about our generation when really all he comes across as is being a bit of a d*ck.
“She never wanted me…” do you blame her, mate?
December 6th, 2007
Ian
Made a lersh chocolate pear pudding last night – hot out of the oven – served with cold custard, as is the McIver way.
Â
Ooh, me first Beans bloggy thing – am excited.
December 6th, 2007
Auds
Hello, my name is Mr Smudgey and I am here to prove to you and everyone else watching that I am the most famous man on the planet at this very point in time. It was close recently as there was a man who balanced bananas on his nose as he read Shakespeare to a bottle-nose dolphin in a telephone box but that was just a rumour. It is time for another reference point so you bask in my celebrity status.
Point Number Two – hiding in the background of the sleeve for the Eagles album ‘Hotel California’.
It’s a bit hard to make out in this but I’m climbing the third tree from the left. I was staying in the hotel across the road which was aptly named ‘Hotel Opposite’. In between my early morning sessions of fung shui and that weird sh*t people do on big lawns I thought it would be a good laugh to look for coconuts. It was only when I looked down to see some idiot with a camera that I panicked, let go of the trunk and fell to the ground. The picture, mfwah mfwah, doesn’t reveal the fact that I spent three months in traction because of it.
I denied all knowledge of this particular exposure because, well, the Eagles suck d*ck big time. I am on a quest for status though so I must lay these demons to rest and own up. Hey, I’ve done worse things.
November 27th, 2007
Ian
What could it mean? What on earth could it mean? It doesn’t mean anything yet and that’s a tragic fact. By one little twist of fate, this wonderful word was never invented and has no meaning and nobody to use it.
Today, my friends, we will wright that wrong. We will give DESTICUTION a meaning.
Question is… what is it?
Desticution (n.)
The horror felt when something particularly cute is destroyed in a very horrible accident.
Put your thinking cap on and see if your brain can do better. Word.
November 26th, 2007
Chris
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