Author: Ian “Air Travel Regulations” McIver

Avatar New Job – Food Botherer

The list of my previous professions is as long as any of Kev’s shopping lists from ‘B & Q’ when he was back in the glory days of daily updates to his house. It got so bad that rather than daily deliveries they just built a B & Q Warehouse next to his ever-expanding mansion and wheeled whatever he needed over the road. That’s service for you.

My new job was thrust upon me by someone else though. For once I have not chosen it for myself, it was a gift from a friend. Who was it? I can’t remember, either Tom or Kev. That part isn’t important, look at me will you?

So we are all sat around the local Harvester having a swell old time eating some free salad and swapping stories about how mental our respective kids are. When the main food arrives everyone, or mostly everyone, sets about stuffing the chow down their gullets. I got my chops around a tasty piece of gammon with both (controversial in some parts) egg and pineapple. Some of our party however were a little reluctant to indulge. How does one convince a child of a young age to stop titting about and start eating? There are a number of ways, some good and some bad. The best way, so it would seem, is to threaten the child with me.

“If you don’t eat your food up, Uncle Ian will start eating it himself and you don’t want that now, do you?”

Do I really want some lukewarm cheesy pasta, possibly scattered with a smattering of phlegm and sneezed upon? No. Do I like the fact that I am now being flaunted as some kind of food boogie monster? Yes, very much so. Whilst initially being a little hesitant to accept the role now handed to me like a hand grenade made of poisoned spikes, I am willing to take that box of beans and run the rest of the way. I can finally command the kind of respect I have been looking for all these years, through a mix of fear and abject misery. They will concoct a rhyme about my exploits. I will be looking over the shoulder of every stubborn eater, with my mouth open and a fork poised, ready to strike when they lean back to take a little rest.

YES! Hear my name and fear my shadow. I am coming for your half-eaten burgers, your shunned lasagne and garlic bread, your unhappy quiche and ignored leftover pizza. I am coming for you.

“You dare not leave your plate alone,
He’s creeping up like a silent drone,
With eyes of fire and stomach of steel,
He’s coming to take your unguarded meal!”

Avatar James Earl Jones is Amazing

Do you know who’s amazing? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not you or I. Nor I. No, neither of us is amazing. You can show me all your achievements, medals, awards and dissertations but you will never be as amazing as James Earl Jones.

This will be difficult for some of us to understand (i.e. Chris) due to the fact that some of us cannot watch films for fear of exploding. That said, James Earl Jones, or JEJ as he is known to his closest friends and family, has also has a stuperbulous career on both television and on stage, so you’ve got no excuses some people. He is a huge talent and has played everyone from a man covered in black plastic to a huge lion and even read all 27 books of the New Testament in ‘James Earl Jones Reads the Bible’. I know now what everyone is getting for Christmas…

I have a ton of respect for James because he’s always been there in lots of things, lots of things I have enjoyed which is a rarity these days. I almost fell off the sofa though when I paused a film he was in and this came up:

Immature, juvenile, yes yet also immensely satisfying and hugely enjoyable. I think James Earl Jones looks even cooler with walrus tusks. Walrus tusks or sticks of chalk coming out of his nose. He can pull off any look, he’s that good an actor.

Avatar December Done Right

It’s too late to turn back now. We’re all going to be smothered in Christmas in three weeks’ time so we may as well accept it and get on with our lives. When I say get on with our lives I mean buy as many presents as possible from the internet in the hope that they arrive in time. I know what you’re thinking though, there is something missing and you can’t quite put your finger on it. There’s the tree in the corner of the room; it looks lovely, almost perfect. It isn’t quite finished, is it?

What you need is something to seal that deal in that wigwam, you know the one I’m referring to. How do you tart that tree up in a timely manner without breaking the bank? You need Kevindo Menendez’s Pork Baubles.

‘Pork Baubles‘

Hand-crafted from the most sensuous part of the pig, the eyelids, Kevindo Menendez’s Pork Baubles are what are missing from your Christmas; a dozen mouth-watering spheres of sweaty, meaty goodness generously licked with the mystery of our seventeen individual spices. Guaranteed to lighten and brighten up the most abysmal of trees, you can hang your Pork Baubles straight out of the packet and, on the big day itself, put them in the oven to accompany your Christmas dinner.

‘Pork Baubles’

With one or two of these in his mouth, Dad won’t be tempted to interrupt with another of his terrible jokes. Grandma won’t believe the taste sensation going down her throat. Mum can use the leftovers to throw at unsuspecting cold-callers trying their luck around the festive period.

‘Pork Baubles’

Don’t bother with another tiresome turkey, keep your dull as damp donuts gammon in the freezer and don’t even turn the oven on if all you’re going to do is try to feed me parsnips again. Do us all a favour and purchase Kevindo Menendez’s Pork Baubles.

‘Pork Baubles’ ‘Pork Baubles’ ‘Pork Baubles’ ‘Pork Baubles’

Fill up your trolleys and your stomachs. It’s got the Kevindo Menendez guarantee! Available in both the freezer and Christmas decoration aisles at all good local supermarkets.

Avatar I’m flattered but…

Chris, mate, dear old friend of mine. How long have we known each other now? Something in the region of (properly) 24 years? Would that be a fair assumption? You’ve seen me in some pretty awful states. I’ve watched you try to get a refund for the worst steak pie ever cooked and served to human beings. I wrote you a song about a cheeky chaffinch whilst hammered on strong cider. We drove to the South coast of England, twice, ten years apart. We’ve recorded five number one albums together as everyone’s favourite quirky pop duo masterminds. You bought me a ticket to see the band Cake live. I once sent you a sandwich in the post, with Kev as the filling.

I could do this for a very long time.

I want you to know though, and I do mean this in the nicest possible way, I want you to be aware that I could not give two shits about your zodiac business.

Following my shining example, you decided to strike on your own in a new career. This should be commended because it’s never an easy thing to do (see all of my jobs over the last five years plus). Who would have thought you would have chosen astrology out of all the possible jobs available to you? I would have pinned you down as a dog shiner or a soup tester, maybe a road botherer. You may even have cut it as a moose wrangler, not that there are many mooses in the Royskopp area.

I want you to stop emailing me about zodiacs though. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want anything about star signs cluttering up my inbox or my junk folder. Send it to those who want to believe in bollocks that has absolutely no bearing on their lives whatever. Please feel free to indulge those gullible enough to accept that a vague explanation of their existence printed in a newspaper or a book on a daily basis is actually all about them and not beige enough to cover one twelfth of the population.

If I keep getting your emails I may have to contact the police or, worse, your dad who will ensure that you never get a proper key to use the gates at his house. Please stop.

(Photos provided courtesy of “fucking about” with my Windows phone)

Avatar Pointless Purchase of the Month

You know what? It’s been far too long since I’ve annoyed everyone with my huge stack of tat and as it is overdue, and I still have a quota to make up, let’s take a look at what I have been throwing my money away on. Take a gander at this juicy goosey:

In the top left-hand corner we have the original gameboy classic ‘The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening’. I didn’t buy purchase this recently, this is merely to amplify the ridiculousness of it all. I bought this in 1994/5, I opened it, played it and loved it like one man can love some plastic on a tiny grey and green screen.

The one next to it with the nifty black cover is the deluxe edition released some years later. I acquired one of these because I needed it to help finish my collection. It’s pretty much the same game but with some extra bits thrown in and parts of it in (very limited) colour. I haven’t played this one yet. I should also mention that I have a digital copy of the game downloaded to one of my 3DS consoles, which I have played through.

In the same month I bought the deluxe edition I also bought the two below it, which are the remastered, re-imagined, re-done whatever you will for the Nintendo Switch. It is exactly the same game albeit with fancy graphics and souped up music. I finished it in under five hours because I have the game committed to memory. So you can really feel the punch I bought the standard edition and the limited edition version, the latter of which I haven’t opened yet and probably won’t do. You know, because that’s me through and through. I bought them on the date they were released at full price.

So now I own (including the digital one) five copies of the same game, one of which may stay in its house forever and one which I won’t bother using because I have it downloaded ready to play whenever I want.

Oh and look, I got a free cleaning cloth for buying the limited edition boxed copy. That was well worth the money. I’m also keeping the cleaning cloth sealed.

Avatar A Punishment of Sorts

I watched the sky with a tear in my eye, the kitty hawk in full flight. A gorgeous view, my legs askew, she soared across the night. I followed her close, my words verbose, a beacon of fur and claws. She deftly swooped and almost scooped the mouse king in her jaws. He pushed away, in fits of dismay, desperate to escape. There was no luck, as all it took was a tiny tear in his cape. The king he fell and I heard the bell, it was all over now. Applause, commotion, fierce devotion; a curtsy and a bow.

Avatar An Apology of Sorts

Dear Everyone,

(And when I say “everyone” I mainly mean Chris.)

I have let you all down. Look at me and feel disappointed right down to your very core. For the last eleven months I have managed to crack out a steady rate of four posts per month in line with the rules decided by the Beans Board. I am not permitted to go past four posts for fear of what may come forth from my subconscious; we all remember that December where I posted something new every day and almost lost my mind in the process. That can never happen again.

At the end of October I was three posts in with only one left to go. I was on the verge of slipping one in on the last day to earn that mighty, mighty bean and keep the count going. In fact it started a few days prior, I watched the calendar move from 29th to 30th October and then the last day was on the horizon. Each evening I was poised to finish what I had started and for some reason I couldn’t. It wasn’t as though I was stuck for ideas; I have several brewing for this month, not great ones but enough to reach the quota. In the words of that Papples album title that never was, “Ticking the Boxes”. So why not?

It was two reasons. The first is simple: I was tired, I was still getting rid of my sinusitis and I couldn’t find the energy to do anything let alone type words and stare at a screen. My face stung like a blunt wasp’s nail file (it’s fine now). The second is also simple: I was struck by the quality of Chris’ posts that I didn’t believe I could come up with anything that was as good. After laughing for several days upon seeing my book covers not stacked in a pile, ready to be thrown on the bonfire, but displayed for the world to see my brain took a leap and gave up. It decided that three was enough for this month and the streak was over.

The time for giving up is over though. I am back on the horse and ready to take flight yet again. I am honking all the geese at the same crossroads. It’s going to be nothing BUT quality from hereon in. November and December are going to be BELTERS.

Before that though I am going to have to be punished for my transgressions. It is only fair for letting everyone (?) down. I am going to ask Kevin to administer this for my failure to do my job properly.

All the fun of the fair

Ian McIver

Avatar The Hall’s Wall Mince Movement

Look at you!

You need to be part of something. You need to be part of the Hall’s Wall Mince Movement.

If you join the Hall’s Wall Mince Movement (or HWMM as it is known amongst its members) then you will be given great rewards, sometimes of meat.

I cannot promise you excitement, I cannot promise you fame and glory. I cannot even promise you a refund on the extortionate subscription fees but I can promise you a couple of bowls of spaghetti bolognese every now and then.

Follow my shiny glitter twinkles and I will lead the way!