Middlesex – The Myth

I spend a lot of time pondering things. Not the important questions such as ‘where are we going?’ and ‘why haven’t you got a proper job yet, you ape?’ more of a sort of middle ground, the kinds of dregs that search engines have where they sigh when someone asks ‘how many cakes are in a baker’s dozen?’ or ‘where did I leave my keys?’. I don’t believe that anyone is currently wondering where Middlesex went, other than me that is.

What was once a huge, bustling place is now a nothing. It’s a pimple. It’s a memory. There was once a time when everything came from Middlesex. It sat at the top of the hill and rolled blocks of cheese down at all the other counties, because it could. It was a bit of a back-handed compliment due to the fact that they were handing out cheese for free yet sending it at such high speeds that it was causing accidents and injuries; if you got hit by a huge wheel of Edam then you were not going to work for the rest of the week, that’s for sure.

So where did it go? Did it disappear in the mists like ‘Brigadoon’ and it only reappears one day every year? That would be incredible. Imagine walking around the shops munching on a bacon sandwich only for Middlesex to magically appear right in front of you. Wouldn’t that be special?

I think it’s only fair that the people get to know what happened. It is a story that will take all of my psychic powers to deduce, for only a tale like this can be told through the sketchy paranormal scientific field of psychokinesis. In my book I will shuffle through the wheat fields of the mind, dredging up the where, the why and the who. Maybe even the odd what. Possibly even a few wag-pasties. Yes, that is a real word because the internet said so.

Also this book has more sex than the entirety of the ‘Fifty Shades…’ trilogy. Not the kind that you want but it’s still sex, right?

You’re welcome, by the way.

Solero reappraisal

It’s been a long, hot summer. Not only have I baked in the hottest temperatures the UK has ever known, I’ve also been overseas to two (2) foreign lands and experienced toasty warm days there as well. I’ve needed cooling down on a regular basis and, to get straight to the point, I’ve eaten a lot of ice cream.

Now, I don’t discriminate where ice cream is concerned. If there’s something cool and tasty to lick, I’m licking it. No argument there. But there’s a definite hierarchy of ice creams and some are quite obviously better than others.

We all know what’s down at the bottom: plastic pipes full of disappointing Ice Pops. And not very far above them comes Milk Pops. Beware, in other words, anything with Pop in its name. Up at the top of the tree, it has long been agreed among the Beans Massive that the Magnum is the pre-packed ice lolly of choice.

Having had a lot of Magnums and a lot of Soleros this summer, I’d now like to make the case for the Solero to be reappraised as a fruity frozen treat on a par with a Magnum. An equal. A peer.

The case stacks up like this:

Magnums are, clearly, delicious
Sometimes a chocolatey ice cream is too much and you want something fruity and refreshing
Soleros are fruity and refreshing, but also high quality, in a way that a Calippo is not
I like Soleros

I find it hard to believe anyone would not be swayed by these arguments. If, however, you need more to convince you, consider this: the Solero is now, as of this summer, established as the ice lolly of choice here in the Royksopp Penthouse. Both myself and Steve Stevingtons keep Soleros in stock at all times. The Magnum doesn’t get a look-in.

Soleros: the number one fruity ice cream. Discuss.

Lord of the Rings – The Game

As I have wallowed in video games for the last thirty years or so, it would be prudent to describe me as some kind of a master or genius. I have devoted a large portion of my life to putting blocks in place, shooting demons in the face and running around two dimensional landscapes dressed as a plumber; I am sure we are all aware of the delights of Italian Stereotype Brothers – Deluxe Edition. So what’s all this about, Ian? Why are you wasting one of your valuable posts with this bin bag of erudite chunder? There are tons of video games about Lord of the Rings. Go look for them you sad sack!

And you’d be right, there are, but none like the one that I am proposing. What the world needs is another rubbish one-on-one fighting game and I plan to elbow my way into the market using J.R.R Tolkien’s celebrated characters. I’ve seen the films a few times and I’ve read the graphic novel (sorry, adult comics) of ‘The Hobbit’ so I know what I’m talking about. I don’t even need to change the name because the title includes a bad pun that I can use for hilarious comedic effect.

Rings. Lord of the Rings. You have fights in rings and they’re fighting to become the best of the best i.e. the Lord, that Lord of all the others. And they may get a ring to celebrate the fact that they’ve won and they’re the Lord of the Rings. You get me? Shall I go through it again?

So we nick some fighting engine from another game, slap together some rubbish drawings of Frodo and the like, throw in some backgrounds near a castle and a volcano and then sell it on steam for £50.00. Steam. Steam? Steam. Who wouldn’t want to see Gandalf decking a tag team of hobbits? We can pretend that the ring has made them all go crazy and on the way to the Crack of Doom they stop for a bit of a punch up. Yeah. See? It all makes sense when I’m in charge. This is the right thing to do because kids can only connect with stories if they’re in some kind of media. The books are way too long and the films are decades (!) old now, nobody wants that. I can re-educate the nation through my shonky video game idea.

Chris, I know you’ve never played one before but a video game is similar to a board game but on a screen and there’s no dice.

Also if anyone wants to invest in my idea I’m going to need six million pounds.

Easter is murder.

I’m not quite sure what the marketing team at Mars had in mind for this one….

I can only assume from this packet of m&m’s eggs that Yellow m&m and Pink m&m Egg were love rivals for the affections of Green m&m Egg, and that for some reason Yellow has seen fit to slaughter Pink splattering himself and Green in the blood of his rival.

Do you think they picked up on the start of the Easter story, the bit where Jesus gets killed, and not bothered reading on to get to the more traditional ‘re-birth’ bit?

Are you Common?

Look at you.

Who are you? What do you do? Are you common? I know that it is not very politically correct to ask this question however it needs to be asked. I know that I am common, mainly from the state of my shoes, but also because I eat like a duck with two mouths and I’ve never paid more than £20.00 for a plate of food. I am safe in the knowledge that I am common.

How can I be sure of this though? Is there a test I can take?

Of course there is. Following on from the raging success of my Cake ‘Appropriate Girlfriend (short skirt, long jacket)’ questionnaire now comes the ‘How Common are you?’ questionnaire, mainly based on the lyrics of the popular song ‘Common People’ by Pulp. Depending on how many of these metaphysical boxes you tick (because I don’t know how to ‘do’ boxes on here) dictates how common you, as in you, are. Take a squint at these.

Have you ever:

Rented a flat above a shop?
Cut you hair?
Got a job?
Smoked some fags?
Played some pool?
Pretended you never went to school?

Based on these, I can tick five out of the six boxes. I have never officially got a job and instead make my money by spinning pennies for sailors down at the socks. Do we still have docks? Yes, we still have docks.

That’s what I do. How common are you?

What’s New and what’s Shrew – Mackers

Hello

So now that we’ve hit the big cheese January shake-up, who is clamming for their next head-dunk into the world of greatness? As I am still assuming the role of Sherpa for you ingrates let me rustle up a steaming batch of hot sauce to keep you in the good books:

Fashion – light up your eye bulbs with this. So everyone thinks that lemonade sink holes are worth pursuing? Yeah, like a dog with cramp. Ditch that has-been and opt for Serlo Pumps, the best kind of shoes straight from Bulgaria. They’re sorted, they’re sassy and they’re climbing up your drainpipe for a little sweetness. Don’t close the window yet. If you’re ever gonna out-do Amelia Jossdon, with her pencil skirt and jam sandwiches, you need to plump up for pointed jodhpurs. That will make everyone scream like Mr Sheen.
TV – can you believe that they made eight seasons of Desperate Housewives? I gave up many, many moons ago yet for some reason and haven’t been back since. I expect it was because the smug voice-over put me into a coma every time an episode started. Russian export ‘Boots to the Roots’ is the latest new thing where famous people trace their family history, find distant relatives they’ve never met then turn up and kick the merry shit out of them. Australian docu-drama ‘Wazzock Paddock’ is also turning up the heat on both sides of the world. In it, a select group of idiots are kidnapped and thrown into a large paddock where they are asked questions to try and change their sexist / racist / misogynistic views, and if they don’t an angry kangaroo is lowered in.
Art – can beans be an art? Yes, they can. In honour of the wonderful food and snack Barry Wombfoot has enlisted the help of 100 people to create a massive hill of beans at the bottom of Ben Nevis in Scotland. Once it has been erected, Barry will use brown sauce to draw a picture of Phillip Schofield 200ft in the air whilst being suspended from a helicopter. To slightly more mundane activities where young artist Lilo Peel has knocked down her parent’s home in Dagenham, Essex and will build a new house entirely out of office supplies she has been stealing for the last two years from her place of work. The piece will be called ‘Self Eviction’ and has been both condoned by the Local Council and lauded by industrial showbiz wonderbot, Gary Wilmot.
Film – it’s a bit slow this time of year what with everyone gearing up for the awards season. That still hasn’t stopped the previously banned trilogy of films by Winky Bowson from sneaking into select cinemas in London. ‘Chop Chop’, ‘Chop Again’ and ‘Chop Chop Away’ have received the remastered treatment and for the cost of one sandwich in London (£365.17) you can catch all three in a special midnight screening in Camden Town. I won’t tell you why they were banned but let’s just say that you can’t do sit-ups that way anymore, times have changed and you shouldn’t use banana yoghurt in that capacity.

So there you go. You can waltz off into the night, safe in the knowledge that your level of cool is still off the chart. I’m running down to Doncaster for a nice sherry.

Hot Beans (TM)

This is my last post of 2018.

It hasn’t been the best of years for me personally however 2018 needs to end on a positive note. We must all remember that a new year means new possibilities and opportunities, and we must not dwell too much on the past. Try not to worry, this is not going to dip into one of those emotional, conscientious posts (did we ever have those?). Far from it. 2019 is going to be the year of…

HOT BEANS!

Our demographic has been severely limited to say the least. We need to start attracting a crowd guaranteed to be scouring the internet at least 24/7. And who likes the internet? Everyone. Why? Because porn. Yes, starting next year we will be incorporating the best of adult entertainment into the already racy strands of Pouring Beans.

I can already tell you are salivating at the prospect of nudie pictures and hot videos of, erm, someone on someone action. And quite rightly so. We may be British but we can still rock it and shove it up the right place like the best of them.

So stay tuned for all of this and much, much more. Hot Beans (TM). 2019, baby.

Mackers – International Trendsetter

Hello.

When I get given a job to do I ensure that I do it to the best of my abilities. Yes, this sound like a job application but I will have you know that as IP McMackers, 2018’s most stunning new trendsetter, I take my role very seriously. People are relying on me to tell them what the new things (THINGS!) will be not only now but in the very near future. If you are going to stay ahead of the other sheep then you need to know what’s happening on the street, and if that were a little bit snappier than it would be my motto.

Check it. So what’s new? What’s in? What’s out? Do they still shake it all about? Here’s the rundown for all you clowns:

Fashion – built-up domingo trousers are out and red felt jumpers are in. If you’re seen wearing a crimson woolly pull over then you will be in seventh heaven, baby. Catch two sock akenfolds round the ankles and it’ll seal the deal in a wigwam. Chas Henry was caught trying to sneak into a club in a skin-tight elephant bold trio top and was snapped by the paparazzi; how embarrassing!
TV – the latest now is actually yesterday. Repeats of old television programmes are flying under the radar however soon to hit the top of the schedules. An episode of ‘Follyfoot’ from 1972 last week received thirty five million viewers, mainly because people got confused and were tuning in to watch the ‘Bellew vs Usyk’ fight and instead were treated to a gentle children’s drama about horses. Risqué comedy ‘Calamity Trousers’, banned for the last twenty years or so due to questionable jokes about men’s genitalia, has also seen a rise in viewing figures;
Art – he may be known mainly for his poetry but Arthur “Lemon” Lemonson has strode well and truly into the 21st century with his art emporium ‘Wicked Snakepipe’, located in the more fashionable section of Hampstead Heath. Along with works of his own, he has recently displayed a number of stunning pieces by etiquette lesbian Jemima Quandry, foible godfather Ronny Biglake and genius water feature Romily Snaft. The current gallery hosts an exhibition about the struggles of cleaning a sieve and why pineapples struggle with karaoke;
Film – look away into the distance as the pull of New Zealand cinema is strong during the latter half of 2018. The seminal three hour documentary ‘Loincloth’, winner of three Sundance awards already, about the demise of the one fashionable item of clothing, is about to hit key cinemas around the country in the coming weeks. You are strongly advised to book your tickets now because this is going to be an onslaught of a film. Critically acclaimed drama ‘Your Fingernails are Uncanny’, following the slow degeneration of an office worker and how she struggles to cope with typing at 50 words a minute or more, will be sweeping down in the UK just this side of Christmas. Finally shock comedian Bawdy Moonpacket’s fifth foray into cinema, ‘Saucepan Solar Eclipse’, will be edging its way towards you like a woodlouse on a mission at the beginning of December. Following a full 40 minutes being removed from the original director’s cut, it has been able to secure an 18 certificate to allow it to be shown in UK cinema. You’ll thank me for this one.

So there you go.

As well as this, to get ahead of the crowds, perhaps you’ve got this weekend free? If so, dip down to Doncaster where the latest sport, sheep flipping , is taking place. Can you turn a sheep 360 degrees in mid-air and have it land on its feet? Would you like the opportunity to find out?

That’s all you need right now to show how much you are right on the fashions. I will be back again soon to lead you up the garden path of trend, like the angry daschund I am.

Good night.