Once upon a Time

Once there was a man who lived in his house with his wife and two kids.

It was a happy home, mainly because of the love shared between everyone but also because it had about five thousand rooms and was kept constantly up-to-date because of the man’s obsession with DIY. It had more bathrooms than your average B & Q megastore.

One day the man went to work and when he came home there were some unwanted visitors. It was a flock of bees, wanting to come and stay in the mansion because there were no rooms left in the Travelodge up the road. The man considered their proposal but ultimately had to turn it down as he had heard that bees have a bad reputation and sometimes leave wet towels on the floor rather than putting them over the side of the bath or on a radiator.

The next day the bees were still there, refusing to leave from the garden. Everyone stayed inside the house to keep away from the bees. They built their own bee house in a tree and laughed at anyone who dared come near their keep. The man ran to his car so he could still go to work, putting together dib-dabs in a computer. When he came back in the evening he discovered that the bees had bought a crowbar and forced their way into the house. As he dialled 999 he heard them upstairs, possibly nibbling crackers and spraying the crumbs all over the carpet. He called a bee man, Mr Bee as he is known to his fans, who drilled a hole in the wall and threw BBQ sauce in to drive the bees out. Everyone knows that bees hate barbecues due to their jealously over not being able to use metal prongs.

Prongs.

The bees left the house yet decided to hang around so they formed the shape of a strawberry and hung on the corner of the house. It did look pretty, from a distance. Mr Bee also dropped some crates in the garden with the intention of scooping all the bees up and putting them in ice cream to sell to pensioners down on the South coast of England. One by one, the bees formed an orderly queue and went into the box as the film ‘Cocoon’ was being shown. Popcorn was passed around. A jolly time was had by all. When all the bees were sleeping off their sugar bender the bee man snuck up, took the box and disappeared into the night, and was never seen again. Some believe that he knew so much about bees as he was actually a flock of bees taped together, using some sort of pulley system and intense paper mache skills.

The End.

(Picture supplied by the very generous Emily McIver)

Things! Ep. 3 – Omnibox

Sometimes it takes a single person of extraordinary vision to show the world what it has been lacking, and in a single moment, change everything. Sometimes that unique talent is a leader, who brings peace and harmony to a divided people; sometimes it is a businessman who can build a global corporation based on benevolence and the improvement of human lives.

Sometimes it’s a man called Henry from Oxfordshire who has invented a box that can do, literally, everything.

In the third episode of Things!, Alan Rudge meets that man and his amazing box.

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.

Ffffifth

Back in spring of this year, the music press were full of excitable rumours about a new supergroup being formed by The Papples and elusive pop star Kevil, with Nizzle said to be on board to produce their debut EP.

Naturally, we all assumed that nothing those three renowned artists did could fail to succeed, but their project remains firmly under wraps and no release date has been scheduled. Perhaps we’ll never know what they came up with.

What has come to light, though, is this interview, in which band members K-Zone and Chef Shizzle reveal some of the details of this ill-fated endeavour.

This is me on PouringBeans…

…typing a message that other people can read.

You two always say that I’m never on “the beans” and that I never write things for other people to read.

Well HA!

This is me proving that I do (occasionally) write things and that you two have done a reading of them. And just to prove that I’ve not just tossed off a quick missive in the vain hope of maybe achieving a bean, I’ve found you a picture of a squirrel with a beak.

Christmas inventory

It’s the end of Christmas now, and there’s no more Christmas left to be handed out, so it’s time to count up and see what this year’s season has poured into my jug.

Clothing

Ten socks
Brown and yellow checked shirt
Mr Bowie t-shirt

Confectionery

500g slab of chocolate
bag of hilarious chocolate “sprouts”
Box of generic Sainsbury’s assorted chocolates

Kitchenware

Small saucepan
Camembert baking dish
Carrot peeler in the shape of a giant pencil sharpener

Books

XKCD book
Road Signs history book
Something regrettable by Su Pollard

A reasonably good haul, all things considered. Well done everyone. Let’s raise a glass to Santa.

Ode to a Face on a Spoon

Yes! I’ve finally gotten around to uploading my unfinished symphony to follow on the wooden spoon theme from June. If you could call it a theme.

It was mentioned once, and I have mentioned it again, so the theme has been continued.

Anyway, due to phenomenal demand (please, everyone calm down) here is my lovely unfinished song:

I was a little bit lonely
So I drew a face on a spoon
A wood spoon, a happy face,
Whistling a happy tune
I drew some bushy eyebrows
With the littlest of fuss
I also added a scar on his cheek
To look a little dangerous

Face on a spoon (not on a stick)
Face on a spoon (not on a stick)
Face on a spoon (now that’s a trick)
Face on a spoon, and not on a stick

One day I’ll finish it and I will earn a million pounds exactly.

Ode to a Broken Spoon

Some months ago, while stirring a particularly stiff risotto – which, really, needed more liquid as it was far too solid in that state – I applied too much pressure and snapped the wooden spoon in half.

It’s only now, with the passage of time, that I feel able to begin to come to terms with this tragic event and to put some of my feelings into words.

I have now written a poem about this incident. I’m sure you understand how difficult this is for me and I’d be incredibly grateful to have your support.

Wooden spoon, wooden spoon
Hardwood utensil
For my cookery a boon
In rice-filled pan
You tried your best
But perished when you faced the test

Your shaft bore the scars
Of previous mistreatment
Of singes and overheating
At my behest

I feel
I regret
I cry
To the moon
For you
For you
My spoon

Pouring
Beans

Category: Utensils