Newsboost – Bonkers Book Burning Bonanza

Firefighters were called in to deal with a violent blaze in the North East of England this evening.

We have received a report that the Loinsford Memorial Publishing House, which opened only within the last couple of months, is on fire yet again after three previous blazes were started in November and December 2015. The raging inferno is currently being contained thanks to the efforts of the local fire brigade.

The culprits and how the fire started are still unknown at this present time and the owner of the building is yet to comment. The Loinsford Memorial Publishing House was responsible for the current bestseller ‘Running Away: The Me Within Me (Not You)’ by bewildering chowder head muffin brain Ian “Running out of Leg Jazz” McIver.

Three hundred thousand copies of that particular book were said to have been lost in the flames.

Dear Beans… My Late Lucid Literary Lamentation

Dear Beans,

For some reason, which clearly escapes me, everyone on this website absolutely, positively hates my books. With a passion. With more than a passion. With big arms and a scowl.

Having sold eight million copies of ‘Running Away: The Me Within Me (Not You)’, I was expecting a certain level of praise and a huge dollop of respect for having conquered the literary world and the New York Bestsellers List for approximately seventeen weeks. What met me, however, was the kind of despair and ridicule best reserved for X Factor contestants who couldn’t get through Boot Camp.

I don’t understand. My book received several 5 star reviews and a glowing report from both Richard and Judy and also, Chris’ favourite, Su Pollard. So where does the venom lie? Is everyone jealous of my success, my fame, my bingo trophy?

I can only hope that my new book ‘Two Pumps and a Squirt – The Kevin Hill Story’ will seek to rectify the problems everyone has with my expressive and hugely successful way of writing.

Yours faithfully

A Sensual Awakening: Two Word Reviews

Everything gets reviewed these days, from mobile phones to toilet cleaners, so it seems only fair that The Papples latest body of work should be included.

Sarah and I sat down this fine evening to give ‘A Sensual Awakening’ a good going over, and decided that rather than use lots of words to accurately convey how we felt about each song, we’d do a two word review.

From Us.

To You.

Claim to Fame

Take a seat. Clean up your mess. In fact, you might want to reverse the order of those things. As long as you get them both done.

You should know that you may be within the vicinity of a local celebrity. Not that I like to spoil the surprise but the recent release of Dylan Moran’s newest DVD, ‘Off The Hook’, contains a very special treat for everyone. The main performance was recorded in London. The DVD, however, contains additional material that was recorded at The Stand in Newcastle upon Tyne.

If you listen very carefully you can make out two people laughing very loudly at the ensuing comedy. Audrey ‘Piledriver Transmission Cupcake’ J clocks in with two mighty guffaws and there’s an extended chuckle of chortles from Emma ‘Bat Pan Mants’ M. My laugh, sadly, was not robust enough to make the cut and therefore you will not be able to hear the lovechild of Frank Bruno, Jimmy Carr and Eddie Murphy tittering away in the background.

The Majestic Bird Goose

Some say that the name Bird Goose is one descriptive word too many. Some may be right, but the majestic Bird Goose cares not for those people. In fact he poops in their garden and then struts away (seen above).

Bird Goose is an excellent strutter and can often be found swaggering, striding or prancing in a pond near you (not seen above).

Bird Goose often wears incredibly fancy shawls (not seen above).

Bird Goose.

Bird.

Goose.

Black Sunday

Here at the Beans we are not prepared to jump abroad whatever flashy trashy spur of the moment, king for a day, soup du jour bandwagon everyone else is desperately trying to hoist themselves onto. No. What we stand for is dignity, truth and ultimately originality.

So this gives me great pleasure to unveil a list of special, rare, only available for one moment items on this very blackest of Black Sundays. Feast for eyes on these sweaty mommas:

Lense Catcher

Such a marvel. What we have here is a stylish plastic container specifically designed to look after your eyes. It oozes desirability and can be filled with water and used to cool your finger tips. This will certainly be the talking point of any fancy dinner or soiree you decide to host. Can also be used as a training potty for very small animals; £499.99.

Bus Pigeon

The Bus Pigeon, or Le pigeon de l’arrêt de bus as it is sometimes known, is only known to surface one day of the year. It you can catch it then it will bring you good luck and fortune, and it also increases your ability to play both Connect 4 and mini golf. Sleek and modern, a veritable treasure trove of danger and beauty; £999.99.

Street Literature

This edition of the Argos catalogue is now so rare that only the CEO has a copy. It features a cartoon of all the financial directors laughing at everyone who buys their items full price when they could easily get them from Amazon for a third of the cost. There’s a rumour Bobby Costanzo has a framed copy hovering above his midnight toilet; £4,999.99.

Act now!!

One per person per household per county per country per kingdom.

The “X Factor”

I appear to be watching a television programme called the “X Factor”. I’m not really sure what to make of this, and I’ve never really watched it before, but there appears to be a simple formula to the proceedings.

Young woman with slightly-too-revealing outfit sings a song but wobbles her voice around so instead of just singing the song she sings all the notes ever invented.
Judge who didn’t choose the song says it was rubbish. Judge who chose the song says it was brilliant.
Man in shiny outfit sings a song with a bit too much rapping while women writhe around him in skimpy costumes like feminism never happened*.
Judge who chose the song says it was a game changer. Judge who owns the programme and can do what he wants says something sardonic and cutting.
Group of people who have no life experience and want only to be famous come on the stage and sing a soulful version of an 80s pop song with more wobbly Mariah Carey vocal stylings.
Judge who appears to be dressed for bed says they didn’t think it would work but they’re so excited for how far you could all go.
Presenter pulls the contestants aside and asks how it was. Contestants say it was great and they’re so happy to be here. Presenter says thank you and that was amazing, even though it was plain to everyone present that it barely even qualified as interesting.
Voting happens and some of the entirely interchangeable contestants leave, though some are then allowed to sing again and might stay in, and others will be arbitrarily brought back later, comfortably removing any sense of jeopardy.

My main conclusion is that the titular “X Factor” appears to be ill-defined and plays at best a peripheral role in what is actually a singing competition. Most of the screen time is taken up by contestants, who are, to a man, detestable, singing other people’s songs to a panel of judges, none of whom would be worth saving from a house fire. Perhaps it would be better to rename the programme something more closely related to what happens on screen, such as “Twats Singing At Twats”.

* Feminism has yet to happen on ITV.

Ian vs Crush Songs

Ian: Hello?
Crush Songs: Hello Ian.
Ian: Hello Crush Songs by Karen O. I’ve wanted to listen to you for a while; sorry it’s taken me so long.
Crush Songs: Oh think nothing of it. Now, are you ready?
Ian: I am, yes.
Crush Songs: Are you ready for fourteen songs that all sound the same with the same wibbly wobbly vocals that have been fed through a cereal box and sound as though they were written in five minutes?
Ian: Erm no, I was hoping for a bit of variety.
Crush Songs: Oh.
Ian: Is there something the matter?
Crush Songs: Nothing! Nothing! No it doesn’t matter.
Ian: What is it you’re hiding there?
Crush Songs: Well it’s nothing really…
Ian: So you are fourteen songs that all sound the same with the same wibby wobbly vocals that have been fed through a cereal box and sound as though they were written in five minutes.
Crush Songs: In short, yes.
Ian: I feel as though I should be brutally honest here. That’s very disappointing.
Crush Songs: Would it help if I told you I’m only 25 minutes long?
Ian: No it wouldn’t.
Crush Songs: Would it help if I told you there was a Doors cover on me?
Ian: That just makes it worse.
Crush Songs: Actually ACTUALLY I’ve got fifteen songs on me. The last one is hidden right at the very end like a lyrical treat…
Ian: Right.
Crush Songs: … actually that might still be the last song with a bit of a gap in the middle…
Ian: Look I can see we’re not really getting anywhere here. You’ve not really thought this through. I think you should go back and have a big long ponder about what to do.
Crush Songs: If you insist, okay. I’ll come back shortly with some much better ideas. You watch; I will blow your mind!
Ian: I’m sure you will. I’m just going to put you in this pile with that Good Charlotte CD I found in the street and those duplicate DVDs I don’t need anymore.
Crush Songs: Is it a special pile?
Ian: … sure it is!

Pouring
Beans

Category: Popular Culture