I Am Livid

I had a killer post lined up for you today, but because it included a photo I took with my phone, my web host is now telling me that I have exceeded some quota or other which means you get a text only blog post today.  I will post it next week when all is resolved.

In the meantime, a few words on something that just popped into my head.

Have you ever noticed that it is only the truly evil mental people who claim to have been spurred into action by the voices in their heads?

Why do these voices never ask them to do nice, or even mundane things?  I would like, just once, to see a local news report with a hero, having saved a small child from house fire (or something equally chivalrous) talking to a reporter and explaining his actions thus;

“It was the voices, the ones in my head.  They made me do it.  Normally they tell me to rape women and stuff, but I think they were sick of getting such a bad rap, so this time they told me save this child.  And to not forget some milk on the way home.”

Or maybe the voices DO ask people to do good things?  And people merely take the credit for the good ideas from the voices, and blame them for the bad, and terribly illegal, ones?  Which seems a bit unfair on the voices if you ask me.

Today the voices are telling me, quite loudly, that I should not have had that last pint last night.

Podcast number eight is live.  In it Cliff and I discuss Madonna’s cockney credentials, the real reason for the VAT reduction and the State opening of Parliament.  Most of which is in the first five minutes.  Subscribe to the feed here, or listen to it on iTunes here.  Plus, check out our new logo…

 

 "No, I'M the Edge!" [30:26m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

We all have secret guilty pleasures.

These are the things we enjoy, that we would rather people not know about.  Whether that be something perfectly normal for a 33 year old man like enjoying a bubble bath, to something completely heinous like owning all James Blunt’s albums.

But what about Innocent pains?  By this, I mean the opposite of the guilty pleasure.  Those things out there that we know we should enjoy or appreciate, or wish we did, but for the life of us we simply can not abide.  We might even have faked an interest in them in order to appear normal.

I mean things like, the plays of Shakespeare, a good Whiskey, the ballet, expensive wine.  I am not saying that these are mine, obviously.  I am just giving you some completely random examples arbitrarily suggested by my subconscious whilst writing this post.  You should not read anything into the list because I really really like Shakespeare and fine wines.  Honest.

What ‘finer things’ do you fake enjoyment of in order to appear normal?

Cliff and I mentioned the Somalian pirates in Tuesday’s podcast.  It was breaking news at the time, and I couldn’t for the life of me see how they planned to ’steal’ one of the largest oil tankers in the world.

Since then I have watched with interest as the incident has unfolded.  After initially making a ‘run for it’ (well, as best you can in a vehicle weighing almost half a million tons) they have now decided to hold the ship and crew hostage, which makes them, officially, rubbish pirates.

I assume this change in tactics has something to do with their difficulty in shifting the two million barrels of oil.  Plus the ship itself.  It’s not like they could put an advert in Exchange & Mart.

“Hi, I’m call about the boat you have advertised.  How big is it.”

“A little over 40 feet.”

“How little?”

“Oh, about 1000 feet.”

If you are going to be a pirate, you have to think about your exit strategy.  If I were a pirate I would focus on ships transporting Xboxes and iPods.  That way, eBay is your friend.  It is difficult setting a Buy It Now price for a quarter of the worlds daily oil production.

I’ve also been wondering about why pirates are called pirates?  It’s quite a cool name if you think about it.  I imagine land based criminals who steal, kidnap and extort are a bit gutted they do not get romaticised as much as the parrot-fondling sea-farers.  So next time you read about an onland robbery, just have a little think about that poor criminals self-esteem issues before you condemn them.

Podcast 7 is here!  This week Cliff and I discuss our on-air ‘chemistry’, being a pirate, amazing animal facts, and Cliff tells us how he made a one-man stand against gang violence in the downtown Thames Valley area.

Download from iTunes if you use it, and if not, click here to subscribe to the podcast feed for use with the podcast reader of your choice.

 

 Poking Bush [30:53m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

INT. RESTAURANT. DAY.

BASIL FAWLTY
So that's two Egg Mayonnaise, a Prawn Goebbels,
A Hermann Goring, and four Colditz salads....
No wait a minute, I got confused here, sorry.  I got
a bit confused because everyone keeps mentioning
 the war.  So could you....what's the matter?

Basil acknowledges the now crying female lunch guest.

GERMAN #1
It's all right.

BASIL FAWLTY
Is there something wrong?

GERMAN #1
Will you stop talking about the war!

BASIL FAWLTY
Me?  You started it!

GERMAN #1
We did not start it!

BASIL FAWLTY
Yes you did, you....No.  No you're right.
I apologise, I am the proprietor of this hotel
and I apologise.  Please accept lunch on me
by way of a proper apology.

GERMAN #1
Thank you.

Basil leaves them and enters the kitchen.  He hits Manuel around the head and
then begins verbally abusing him.

BASIL FAWLTY
Manuel!  I am so going to do the sex with
your grand-daughter.  You have no idea the
things we will get up to!

Producer’s Notes:
I like it, but I think he lets the Germans off a bit lightly.  The free lunch has got to go.  Maybe another joke about the war?  Perhaps something about the Jews or Poland?  How about a Hitler impression? Or even better, how about Hitler with a really funny walk!  I know John says he’s left all that behind, but I am sure we could convince him to do it again if the context was good.

There are some people who claim they can see into the future.

There are some people who claim to have seen their own destinies mapped out before them in the stars.

And now it appears that there are people who can see their own futures, in alarming detail, whilst deciding on an appropriate title for their new books.  You might need to click on the image to get a look at it in all its glory (a little bit of back-combing and that monkey could be his partner in crime).

Honestly, sometimes this shit just writes itself.

Podcast 6 is here!  Thirty eight minutes of idle chatter in which Cliff and I discuss the all new half-white US President, lesbians in the jungle, drawing a massive cock on your house, and the long awaited definitive answer to the question, “Is there a God?”.

Please download from iTunes if you use it, and if not, why not?

 

 Standard Podcast [38:21m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

INT. WINE BAR. NIGHT.

DEL BOY
You see, nowadays these modern Euro birds,
they go for the mature men who's made it in life.

TRIGGER
Yeah? Is that why we're having no luck?

DEL BOY
I ain't tried yet! I'm just building meself up for
the kill.

TRIGGER
Yeah, well, you'd better hurry up. The first bell
went just now.

DEL BOY
Yeah, alright, alright.

Now the girl at table catches eyes with Del Boy.

DEL BOY
(Cont'd)
Could be on a winner here, Trig. Alright, play it nice
and cool, son, nice and cool. You now what I mean?

Del smiles coolly and nods a greeting. The girl returns the merest of
smiles and turns away.

Inspired by his tiny success, Del leans off counter and lights a cigar.
Del now leans coolly on the bar and waves at the girl. He takes a puff
from his cigar and makes his way over to them.

DEL BOY
Au reviour mon petit chien.

GIRL
Err, hello.

DEL BOY
I couldn't help but notice you smiling in my direction
just then.

GIRL
Sorry, I was just trying to get the barman's attention.
He's ordered us a cab you see.

DEL BOY
OK, well maybe I could offer you lovely ladies a lift home?

GIRL
OK, what sort of cab have you got?

DEL BOY.
No!  I'm not a cabbie.

GIRL
Sorry, executive travel provider?  It's difficult to
tell one cabbie from the next.

Del returns to Trigger in  a huff.

DEL BOY
Come on Trigger, drink up, we're leaving.
TRIGGER
What happened Del, I thought you were in there.
DEL BOY
Lesbians Trig, both Lesbians.

Producer’s Notes:

I like the way that Del’s high expectations are thwarted by his physical appearance, but I’m not sure that the lesbian line works.  Perhaps in another 20 years or so when it’s a more common insult?

How about introducing some physical comedy instead?  There isn’t enough falling over in comedy today.  Maybe watch some Laurel & Hardy for inspiration?  I really think a good ‘falling over’ gag could work well in here somwhere.

Osama Bin Laden has nineteen (19) children.  That was the first alarming thing that struck me after I read this article.

Osama Bin Laden has had sex at least nineteen times.  Which I am sure you will all agree is pretty impressive for someone who has spent a large proportion of his adult life in a cave.  I live in a vibrant tourist town and I have only just struggled to reach double figures (that is a joke, my struggle to reach double figures ended ages and ages ago).  This news does seem to make one statement though; to all those people who say we should, “Make love, not war”, old Osama seems to have proven that the two are not mutually exclusive.

His son is seeking asylum in Spain, I’m not sure from what, but having the world’s most unpopular Dad (Clinton’s worst selling mug) is probably quite high on the list.

Getting out from under your fathers shadow can be a tall order, I imagine.  Especially if your father is famous, or should I say, infamous.  It must also be tough for Osama himself, having his son that fails so spectacularly to live up to expectations.  I suppose it is a bit like Alan Carr’s Dad who was a footballer, and then a football manager, the stereotypical man’s man.  A camp comedian was probably not high on his list of hopes for his infant son.

The fact that Bin Laden Jnr. is a confirmed pacifist must have hit Osama very hard indeed.  He would probably have preferred it if he had announced he was gay and wanted to perform stand-up.

“Dad, I abhor violence of all kinds.  I am committed to a life of peace.”

“Are you sure?  You’ve not given terrorism a proper go yet.  How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?  It’s a bit like Spinach when you were a kid, and look how much you like that now!”

“No Dad, I want to live in the West and meet a visually impaired fifty-something that I can grow old - well, oldER - with.”

“Won’t you try blowing up just one infidel?  Just one?  For Daddy?”

So while debate rages about whether to admit Bin Laden Jnr. into Spain, let us not forget his heartbroken father crying himself to sleep in a cave somewhere.

The fifth podcast is here!

Cliff and I can be heard discussing how the credit crunch has finally hit Mr Jones, why I want to command an army of evil monkeys, who would use an Ostrich taxi, and we devise a foolproof experiment to discover - by next week-  if there really is a God.  It is available on iTunes by clicking here, or click below to listen on this very site.  Plus, Cliff has a photo of our new and ever-so-professional recording studio over at his site.

 

 Spank the human [28:45m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

“What’s that?” asked my friend Blondie as she greeted me at the door.

“It’s my entry.” I replied, handing over my entry.

“Your entry to what?”

“Your best pumpkin competition, for the party.”

“Right.  It’s just that, well, it’s not a pumpkin.”

“Oh I realise that.  There were none left in Tesco when I went in earlier, so I thought rather than not take part in the festivities, I would improvise.”

“OK.  So what, exactly, is that?”

“It’s a grapefruit.  It was the biggest one in the shop.”

“And you’ve drawn a scary face on it.”

“Yes, yes I have. Do I win?”

“No.  No you do not.”

Some people are such fascists regarding the minor details of annual celebrations. They fail to recognise the true meaning of Halloween, which is of course the celebration of drawing faces of foodstuffs.  Let us not be vegist or fruitist.  It matters not which vegetable is adorned by a face, merely that you have taken part and doodled on something edible.

No, they didn’t fall for that either.