Category: Chris

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 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 Your Contact Numbers

Right.

Chris, I need you to call the Customer Service Desk; an old lady has turned up wanting to return a half-eaten box of grapes and exchange it for a soup ladle. Then when that’s sorted can you ring Captain and ask him if he has had sight of the whale in the last fifteen hours. There were a few blips on the sonar yesterday morning and if we need to start preparing the harpoons I would rather know now.

If Kev is still here and within an audible range, I need you to visit John/Michelle, who is currently in the middle of his/her sex change operation, and ask him/her to cover the deli counter over lunch because Barbara had to call in sick. Once that’s out the way can you make call Jane’s Cage to ask when she is likely to be able to move it to a more convenient place as it is clogging up aisle twelve and nobody can reach the tinned prunes.

Meanwhile I need to contact Wendy who, for some reason, has morphed into an Argos store. Before she starts selling reasonably-priced home and garden wares, in addition to electronics and toys, I must insist that she goes home and calls someone who is more qualified to deal with this situation. I also have to phone FTG (“Furious Toga Gargoyle”) who is parading around the freezer section and flashing his turgid, green dangly bits to anyone within reach. It really is more a matter for the police however I intend to deal with it before we escalate it to the correct authorities.

Let’s not dawdle now, people, we all have a busy day ahead of us.

Avatar Tributes and Insults – Christopher Marshall

Look at this big ol’ berk here:

Look at his massive face. Why does anyone need a face that big? What has he done to his face to make it that big? All of these questions need answering and the sad fact that it is unlikely that we will ever get the responses we need.

The worst part about knowing Chris is that he’s always calling on a regular basis asking how I am and letting me tell him all my problems. There I am, trying to sit in my puddle of self pity, and he’s on the phone for about an hour trying to cheer me up. That’s the worst, it really is, however it gets worse than that. There have been times when he has not only encouraged my questionable behaviour but he has also actively joined in, such as the time that we both wrote letters to each other and did it in weird, wonderful ways. I still have most of them in a box somewhere. The most enduring, and awkward, of the letters was the one written on one continuous single line of paper that stretches on for what seems like miles. I’m struggling for space as it is and to have to find somewhere for this is just plain selfish.

I mean I am done with all of this. There is only so much that one person can take and really I have reached my limit. I hope that he is taking note of all of this because it is very personal and I mean every vicious, scalding word of it. You can take your pleasant, jolly attitude and your helpful, endearing friendship and you can shove it right up the puffin pipe.

You utter wanker.

Avatar Episode 10: The trouble with wasps

A new episode I hear you exclaim with glee. With an increasingly erratic release schedule, this surprise new episode includes Chris, Ian and Kev rambling incoherently about:

  • Bees vs Wasps
  • Ian’s money management
  • Jams and Chutneys
  • The pickle conundrum.

 

 

Avatar Dedication

Dedication. Say it out loud because you won’t be hearing much of that word for much longer. Why? Because dedication has a new name and that name is Christopher James Marshall.

Lunacy is infectious, much like laughter and most Class A drugs. Lunacy is responsible for a lot of things and I expect when they eventually drag me away, kicking and screaming, wrapped in a My Little Pony sleeping bag, it will be something that I try to pin the blame on in the hope they’ll let me go. When it comes to a lot of my nonsense it’s about 50/50 as to whether anyone else will join in. Some of it is too much, even for me, so I fully understand when people choose to ignore and carry on with their lives. For instance, this morning I was thinking about Loudermilk (again), an old animal’s home for all of Bob Ross’ woodland creature friends and Korean Karaoke (because it sounds nice).

Occasionally though the baton will be picked up and well and truly ran all the way to the finishing line. That baton was a petition to reinstate Monty Don back in the band Beats International. Even though none of that sentence makes sense in the real world, Chris took that petition and got it fully signed.

Two hundred and eleven individual signatures. Two hundred and eleven people. People may scoff that our generation never amounted to anything but I will wave this petition in their faces to prove them wrong. What an achievement. What a level of dedication unheard of in this day and age. So based on this and this alone, the word ‘dedication’ should be replaced with ‘Chris Marshall’.

What a level of Chris Marshall unheard of in this day and age.

You heard me.