Fivewide

As a grown up who doesn’t have any children, I am at liberty to while away my days as I see fit, perhaps enjoying a round of croquet on the lawn now and then, or devoting an entire day to perfecting my butter caramel technique.

This means I am free to buy Lego if I want, and build it all on my own, without any meddlesome children to spoil the experience. Lego is wasted on children anyway. They don’t get it. It’s a sophisticated product for adults like you and I, and long may it remain so.

Not so long ago I treated myself to a new set, thanks in part to a Lego gift card I was given for my birthday. (This is further evidence, as though it were needed, that everyone agrees with me about Lego being for grown ups.) The new set is excellent, for the most part, but in one of its bags I found something that made my blood run cold.

We have long spoken with disdain about the horror of the sixwide Lego car.

Now behold the fivewide brick.

Mind your step

There’s a restaurant near us that we sometimes go to, which is in an old building. You’ve been in places like this before: it was an ancient thing to begin with, all wooden beams and low ceilings and big oak beams everywhere, but then it’s been extended by knocking through into bits of other buildings and there’s more bits taking it through the back into what used to be an outhouse of some kind. Now it’s a rambling maze on the inside, full of little rooms and cosy nooks. It’s nice.

Anyway, there’s one table tucked away in a little space of its own, surrounded by oak beam walls and artfully exposed ancient masonry, and whenever people go to sit there, they find themselves having to go up two steps and then go back down one step again. It’s like a little barrier on the way in that is a positive invitation to trip up and go headlong into a table full of unsuspecting diners. The floor level on both sides is barely any different, so it’s just in the way.

Anyway, I’ve noticed this several times and always thought it was odd. Turns out they must get asked about it a lot, so they’ve put a sign on the step to explain why there is a step in this eminently stupid place.

Emergency Bean Grab: the fairytale comic

Back in February, you might remember I found myself in a terrible situation, and had to make three posts in a day. To warn everyone about this daring and hazardous act, I posted an Emergency Bean Grab Warning. It was only fair.

Ian was unimpressed, telling me in the comments that it was the worst fairytale he’d ever heard. But I took his criticism on board, and together we workshopped a much better fairytale about my February bean. He then insisted that I draw some pictures so we could get it published and make our fortune.

While I haven’t yet started negotiations with publishers, I am now pleased to share the finished artwork, which includes everything in Ian’s fairytale wish list: Medieval Europe, savagery, a misogynistic male Prince character, a plucky young sidekick named Ian, reaction shots of Ian, a friendly animal helper, bad weather, and some sort of woman.

I present to you Crich5156’s February Bean Grab: The Fairytale: The Graphic Novel.

Logical dreamscape: the TV reboot

I woke up the other morning and felt genuinely sad that the dream I’d just had wasn’t real.

It was about a TV show, you see. I think in my head somewhere was the memory of my recent discovery that The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is now being remade as a serious Netflix-style drama called Bel-Air, now in its second series of ten glossy hour-long episodes with spectacular production values, grappling with issues of racial tension and culture shock. Well, my brain said, if you can make a big-budget serial drama out of the Fresh Prince, you can do anything.

Four Word Reviews: Joy

Do you know what it isn’t any more? It isn’t April. And that’s a shame, because April is traditionally the month in which we Four Word Review the heck out of a Christmas album (see Mahalia, Barbra Streisand, Michael Bublé), and right now I’ve got another Christmas album burning a hole in my CD collection. So let’s throw tradition to the wind and have a listen to Joy: A Holiday Collection by Jewel, even though it’s May and May is nowhere near as inherently Christmassy as April.

Southseeing not Southdoing

It didn’t even have a title until I sat down to scan it in, and now here it is: the book recording possibly our most chaotic and disrupted silly weekend away together, the time that you were both supposed to see my new house and instead we all went to Portsmouth, except I wasn’t even in Portsmouth for some of the time.

Still, this one is an absolute joy to peruse. Among many other things, you can delight yourself with:

Wabs McKenzie in the “snuggle hole”
Hat-a-boat
How boats really work
Tad Kensington and his “unique process”
Ian in da Club (covered in monocles)
Chris sings the Backstreet Boys
Mildren

You can either try to remember it in vivid detail, or you can cheat by visiting our Books page.

Interlude

This month hasn’t been a great month for posting stuff, but luckily I had some stuff in mind so I’m just spamming the Beans with it tonight. The next one is some genuinely good content, but before we get to that, here’s something from a musical project we’ve all been trying to forget.

I still have hours and hours of this that we never even watched, let alone turned into something. Maybe this year I’ll do something with it all.

Your comfortable life

The other week we put our bin out as usual. The black bin, which is recycling, and not the green bin, which is landfill. I would like to meet the person who chose that colour scheme and ask them why they have to take their problems out on the rest of us.

Anyway, we put it out, and when the binpeople had done their thing, we brought it back in. Except now it had a lid that didn’t work properly – it was attached only at one side and flapped around in an unhelpful manner when you tried to open it.

Luckily there’s an easy fix. Amazon will sell you new hinge pins for wheely bins, and for reasons I don’t fully understand it will sell you a pack of eight. Who needs to repair that many wheely bin hinges all at once?

When the new plastic things arrived I opened the pack and fitted one, which resolved the bin problem. I then noticed the label on the packet.

“QOPAHI”, it said, this being the sort of mindless collection of letters that makes up every brand name on Amazon these days. “Enjoy your comfortable life”.

Thanks, Qopahi. I will.

Pouring
Beans

Author: Criss Crimz