Wednesday 28 March 2012

RED MEAT WILL KILL YOU!

‘RED MEAT WILL KILL YOU!’ is the headline that greeted me as I logged onto MSN last week; a bold, confident statement I’m sure you will agree. This headline is bound to worry a lot of people around the country, especially me, I’m a vegetarian! I can’t walk past a butchers without the fear I may be struck down by a stray sausage, or drive near a Sainsbury’s delivery van for fear of it unloading 2 tons of black pudding onto my Fiat 500. I may be overreacting but MSN has told me how I’m going to die and it’s never lied to me before!

This adds another way to die on to the ever expanding, carcinogen, obese creating, and cardiac arresting list. If our government is to be believed the most dangerous way to live nowadays is to be a carnivorous, chain smoking, alcoholic; also know as being French. By this logic surly the French should have died out years ago, but no, they are in fact thriving like mold in a Petri dish. Currently France has the highest life expectancy, as well as the lowest heart disease and cancer rates in Europe, this information, it seems, is totally at odds with our government’s heath guidelines. Let’s face facts there is only one logical explanation for this.

Now I’m not one for conspiracy theories, I believe we landed on the moon, Elvis is dead and Lee Harvey Oswald shot JFK but I’m becoming increasing suspicious that the British government’s primary concern is that we don’t become French. Of course this is a valid concern, after the disastrous beret trend of the  late 80’s and early 90’s, in extreme cases some teenagers even turning to poetry; an era, I’m sure, none of us would like to revisit. More importantly if we become French we might take to the streets in protest and make unreasonable demands such as decent working hours.

So what is killing us Brits so young? Well I think the answer is staring us in the face, its classic British repression! I believe every bottled feeling is the equivalent of a glass of Jim Bean, every emotion swallowed a shot of pork fat to the heart. I can almost feel the polyps forming in my bowl when someone borrows my stapler without asking, my head shouts “GOD DAMN IT, MY NAMES ON IT, KNOB HEAD!!!”  But my mouth whispers “That’s OK any time” I can feel my arteries contracting when someone drinks the last of the milk from the work fridge “FOR CHRIST SAKE IT’S GOT PAYROLL WRITTEN ON IT!! YOU AND EVERYBODY YOU LOVE SHOULD DIE! YOU EVIL,EVIL C**T” screams my brain “That’s OK, anyone could make that mistake, I should have written it Spanish as well” I inevitable mumble. If either of these two happened in France there would be some almost poetic shouting, a man would be slapped, a mini riot would occur near the fire exit and then voila, all would return to normal, no aneurisms in sight.

A fine example of our inability to express even the most basic of grievances occurred in my office not more than 3 weeks ago. I was sitting quite comfortably at my beautifully constructed yet functional desk, in one of Warwick’s premier office blocks, when a worryingly failure odour wafted into my innocent, unsuspecting nostrils. Confusion struck me suddenly and held me in its grasp as I tried to wrestle with the idea of being trapped in what is essentially a sterile environment with a smell that is usually reserved for public toilets, Coventry or the homeless(in many ways, one and the same).

My confusing quickly turned to concern as I located the offending malodour, which unfortunately happened to be upon my person. It appears that I have fallen foul of the most common of scatological accidents and trodden directly into the ex-contents of a dogs rectum.

Unfortunately to make matters worse I am super cool and can’t be expected to sit on a chair like a normal person. I like to sit with my left leg folded underneath me. ‘yeah, that’s right HR girls I don’t sit like normal men cos’ I rock! Have you seen how bendy my mofo’ing left knee is?’ (I imagine this is how James Dean or a young Clint Eastwood would sit if they had happened to have worked in the payroll department of a market research company)
It appears that this style of seating has one drawback; if you’ve trodden in shit, it smears it in all the places you don’t want it to go. All over the chair, my legs, my arse, a large smear on the carpet below my feet, the cupboard next to me, Janet from account’s hair!  If this would have happened at home I’d be all like ‘Oh what a silly Monkey, you’ve smeared excrement everywhere, what a wonderful anecdote this will make.’ But when you’re at work it feels somewhat uncomfortable knowing that you smell of shit, people don’t like that smell!  Awkwardly, as bad as the smell had gotten none of my work colleges said a single word; It’s a very British trait that 5 people can all be sitting within a two metre radius of a man smeared in actual pooh will ,other than a slight twitch of the filtrum, not acknowledge the situation at all.

My initial idea was to wait until everyone went on lunch and switch the chair, which seemed a good idea at the time until I realised the person returning to their chair would probably be pretty confident that their chair didn’t have pooh on it before they went to lunch and the only person who worked through lunch would have been me. If there’s one thing worse than people thinking you’ve shat yourself is people thinking you’ve gone out of your way to shit on their chair.

In the end I decided the best bet was to spill coffee all over the place and wipe it up toilet roll, hoping the smell and colour of the coffee would mask the evidence. Almost, but rubbing it with toilet roll released the smell somewhat, to combat this I just wore the  slightly guilty facial expression of someone who has just broken wind,’ farts’ ,I thought, ‘people are comfortable with farts, not pooh’. I think I got away with it, although people do tend to give me a wide birth at work nowadays.

The moral of the story drink more, smoke more, eat anything and everything but shout more.
The real moral of the story, don’t waste 20 minutes of your life reading pointless self indulgent blogs when you could be playing angry birds.

God speed and bless you all,

Me

Friday 23 December 2011

The beatiful throne

I have been doing this blog now for a few months and have noticed that many of my readers are not from my home country of England in the United Kingdom. So I feel it is only necessary to verse you in one of our favourite subjects, the humble toilet.

For many readers from the U.K you may well think this is a cheap subject for a blog but my fellow countrymen please spare a thought for our foreign cousins who only see the toilet as a functional piece of porcelain, there to quickly whisk away their bowel movements and get them as far away from them as possible without having to look at it.

Please let me take you on a historic and educational journal around the U-bend and explore the beauty of the ball-cock.

Beginnings of the toilet

Early Mohenjo-Daro toilet

The first toilet was created in the 2nd Century BC in Mohenjo-Daro what is now modern day Pakistan, they were of very high standards for the day and were designed by Mr Bill Cistern of Walton on sea, what is now modern day Walton-on-sea.

Mr Cistern was commissioned by the Priest-King at the time, Gary the Priest-King, to create a device for not only improving the sanitation of the region but also a convenient place for them to flush their Crack Cocaine when the Mohenjo-Daro PD turned up. The Mohenjo-Daro PD were notorious at the time for their brutality towards the Priest-Kings especially after the Rodney Priest-King trial of March, 1991BC.

Middle Ages of the toilet
People crapped in holes

Modern Day toilet

A modern toilet
prostitute

 In 1880 Thomas Crapper invented the U-Bend which was to revolutionise the toilet and make it a much more pleasant place to be. Previously many out-houses had used a system which would store the waste either within the outhouse or close to it, this caused poor sanitation and a horrific smell.
With the advent of the U-Bend people were able to spend more time in the out-houses without passing out or vomiting.
Thus the U-Bend not only lead to the invention of the glory hole and toilet graffiti (an early form of adult personal ads) but more importantly, for the first time, prostitutes could offer the more affordable option of toilet oral sex, pleasing much of the American public and kick starting a financial boom securing America as the superpower it is today.


Tricks and tips
The public toilet environment can be a daunting place and the techniques I am about to discuss are of an advanced nature, it is greatly advised that you first study the more basic and well established urinal Etiquette, inllistrated in the link below.
http://therantbot.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/urinaletiquettelc8.jpg

Tips for the shy of bladder.
Shy bladders are very well documented and have a simple solution in using the toilet cubicle. But even this can cause problems. Do you shut the door and risk people thinking you maybe pooing or do you leave the door open so people can see you're not pooing but in many ways negates the point of the cubicle in the first place? I personally hold myself with one hand and hold the door closed with the other which I find is a nice middle ground and yet completely pointless.

Tips for the shy of bowel
Shy bowels are a bit more complicated and much depends on the level of shyness. Much of this complexity come from the increase in sensory indicators that come from a bowel movement. Where as bladder shyness is mainly down to the aesthetics with bowels you have the unwanted sound and smell to worry about.

  • The hiding technique
If you are of a lower shyness level you may want to try the hiding technique.
  1. Enter the toilet area and ensure there is no one in there, if there is someone in there, wash your hands and exit the toilet.
  2. Wait for the person/persons to leave the toilet area (Perhaps hide behind a vending machine)
  3. Rush in, enter the cubicle and empty said bowel.
  4. Use your ears, if someone comes in you need to hear them; the casually urinater/pooer will normally give himself by whistling a festive tune.
  5. Wait for the sound of hands being washed (if sound does not occur you are free to feel slight disgust) then the sound of the door closing.
Important: Many a person has been fooled by the sound of a person entering the toilet and not leaving. Exiting at this time may cause double the embarrassment.

  • The disabled technique
For a higher level of shyness try this technique, this can be dangerous but the pay off is big; the disabled toilet is the holy grail of pooing solitude but there are some very important rules to follow.
  1. Ensure there are no bystanders around toilets, especially any disable fellows
  2. Enter toilet discreetly, open door as little as possible and close door quietly
  3. Empty bowel
  4. Wait for sound of flush to die down and listen for pedestrians
  5. Once sure, exit the toilet, if caught by a disabled person feign blindness by stumbling around with arms out stretched, perhaps fall over if you're in a theatrical mood. If the person who catches you happens to be blind simply run away and blame any sounds and smells on them
Conclusion

The toilet has such a rich and varied history of which this simple blog can only pretend to scratch the surface.
For further reading on this subject I would suggest 'Embarrisment of the Bowel' by Brad Chadley ,'The Bowel Bible' by Chad Bradley or 'Angels & Demon' by Dan Brown

Thursday 24 November 2011

Fear!!!


I've been having a lot of nightmares lately and I don't like them, they're not like the ones I used to have when I was a kid, where there was something obvious to be scared of, like monsters or a flashback from an encounter with an angry dog. These seem more sinister, more confusing, somehow darker and harder to shake, every night the same- Michael Stipe sitting at the end of my bed stroking my feet and crying.

So, as a sort of therapy I've decided to use this blog to help me face my nightmares, to dig deep and tell the world(well the 10 people who'll read this) my deepest, darkest fears !!!

Childhood fears
Chip pans, sparklers, someone handing me scissors the wrong way around, a deadly cocktail of fizzy sweets and coke, strangers, getting caught masturbating by my mum, anyone offering sweets,being stuck in the house, Griff Tannon from Back to the Future 2, my Master System braking, watching TV in a storm, Noel Edmond's and girls.

Adult fears
Forgetting my Pin number, the computer telling me I have 2 days to change my password, getting ill on a Friday, children of any descriptions, poor WIFI signal, Griff Tannon from Back to the Future 2, my Xbox 360 braking, getting caught masturbating by my wife, piles, car insurance, leaving the house, choosing record once instead of record series on SKY Plus, Noel Edmond's dying and women.

Life long fears
Only having one egg basket, getting so pissed off with my face that I violently remove my nose with a knife, opening a hot cake shop and not being able to meet demand, inviting too many friends around for a broth making party and my old rolling stones collection covered in moss.

I could go on, as you can see I am scared of pretty much everything, so to save everybody time I have constructed a crude flow chart. Behold, the MS paint flow chart of fear!!!

THE FLOWCHART OF FEAR!!!

Thursday 17 November 2011

My Body

The human body comes in two main chassis types, the sleeker, sportier female model with pop up headlights and large boot but which tends to be rather a lot noisier or the bulkier, sturdier male version which produces far higher emissions and has a tendency to break down.
I chose to test drive the meatier Male version (albeit with the large pop-up headlights normally reserved for the female model)and 30 years into this test I can finally confirm it's crap.

Crap car analogy aside, it's only really dawned on me how badly built I am, so I have a few questions for god or Mr Evolution or whoever put my rather ample frame together.


1) Why does earwax taste so bad?

2) Why can't I fake smile?

3) Why can't I remember my own phone number?

5) Why are my hips so big?

6) Why do I like lady-ga-ga when I really want to hate her?

7) Why do I randomly want to hit people?

8) Why have internal organs that you will have to have removed anyway?

9) Why have nerves attached to your teeth?

10) Why don't I ever know where I'm going?

11) Why are kittens cuter than babies?

12) Why have toe nails?

13) Why can't I urinate next to someone?

14) Why do we hate the cold but the sun gives us cancer?

15) Why can't we all be wizards?

16) Why can't gay couples have babies naturally?

17) What’s the point of dandruff?

18) Kidney stones? Why?!?

19) Why do we I have such an extreme reaction when a daddy long legs flies in my face?

20) Why doesn’t sweat smell like freshly baked bread?

21) Why do vaginas look so angry?

22)Serioulsy, why am I not a wizard??!?!??!!

23) Why are genitals placed in the most awkward part of the body when they’re meant to be rubbed together?


24)why can't I tell when a list going on too long?


If you're god and you happen to be reading this please leave comments below. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind, could you fix the AIDs thing you started in the 80's? If Microsoft cured the red ring of death I'm pretty sure you can fix one itty bitty little pandemic.

Wednesday 31 August 2011

Death- A light hearted retrospect

As I have celebrated my 30th birthday this month I feel I am now old enough and mature enough to commentate on this, the darkest of subject matter and the father of the macabre. After all I believe it was Plato who said ‘There is but one method to differentiate a man from a boy. Give a boy a banana and he will hold it to his crouch in mockery of a phallus, give a banana to a man and he will pretend it’s a pistol in mockery of Daniel Craig’ When asked what a woman would do with a banana Plato simply replied ‘Probably just eat it’*. This reply was famously taken vastly out of context by those opposing the suffragette movement during the early 20th century, believing he was implying all woman are basically monkeys and as such should be treated as monkeys. This lead to a 500% increase in potassium poisoning and the invention of London zoo’s famous ‘Chimpanzees tea party’.


* Socrates was latter heard expressing his utmost joy at his student, Plato, sidestepping a blatant banana/dildo comparison.


I fear we are getting wildly of subject. So without further ado, please find below a small selection of historical figures all of whom have played a pivotal role in the history of death.



Abel
Abel first hit the headlines way back in 4000 B.C when he entered the guiness book of records for being the first human to die.


A true pioneer in the field we caught up with him in his palacial los angeles home. “Well it was really my brothers idea” Abel comments, peering over the top of his third iced magarita “At first I was unsure if it was a good idea as it involved having my skull cracked open with a rock but looking back it was the best thing I ever did.”Able throws a wry smile before continuing “The toughest part was the first few years in heaven, I mean god’s a great guy but spending all that time just the two of us just became boring and awkward, that’s why he invented scrabble you know? Unfortuantly at this stage he had forgotton to create an alphabetic written language. That’s the problem with big G, he never thinks things through! That’s why we have Cot death, Cancer, Famine and Hollyoaks. Creationist haven’t reallised their best argument is gods mistakes, I mean evolution couldn’t f**k it up this much.”


Abels influence can still be felt today and in many parts of the world being killed by your brother is considered retro-chic.


Princess Diana
It is a well know fact that the late princess of Wales is the most important person to have ever died. Her death was so influential that within a week Mother Teresa decided to join her. Of course Mother Teresa’s death failed to garner much press attention as her achievements were dwarfed by that of the late princesses.
While mother Teresa only managed to rack up 45 years of dedicated humanitarianism, ministering to the poor, sick, orphaned, and dying; Princess Diana once shook hands with an AIDS victim. 



On many public opinion polls (including the History Channels ‘Most Important Events in History’ poll) the death of Princess Diana has been voted as more historically significant than that of the September 11th terrorist attacks on the twin towers. This statistically proves, without a shadow of a doubt, that the life of Princess Diana is worth the lives of 2,753 Foreigners.
                          


Psychic Sally
It is a well know fact that Psychic sally is the least important person to have never died.


It’s been a hard year for Britain’s favourite spiritualist medium; earlier this year Sally underwent a gastric band operation in a desperate bid to save her from the indignity of a death born of pure greed. Doctors believe that Sally’s weight gain was largely due to her junk food diet, which mainly consisted of the desperation of the bereaved and the tears of orphans.

The surgery was not plain sailing however and soon after the surgery her GP went on record as saying “Fortunately there have been some complications. If we’re lucky, she just may not pull through”.

Sally’s Gastric band procedure was characteristically aired on Living TV where doctors found the carcass of a dead baby in her stomach.

Fair well
I hope you have enjoyed this trip down the darkest of memory lanes, let your hope and good health be your lantern. I am sorry I was not able to include everybody who has ever died as I have been quite busy lately, please see here for a rundown of everybody who has ever died.
 

I shall leave you now with a quote from one of England’s finest 17th century authors, Sir Thomas Browne - 'We all labour against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases. But remember Lemsip max strenth is pretty damn good too'

Thursday 28 July 2011

The longest punniest facebook thread ever!

I've been lazy this week and will do a proper post soon. Please find below a Facebook post as way of compensation: (And yes that is supposed to say 'Punniest with a 'P'')


    • Graham McCann An overwhelming lack of genocide?
      about an hour ago ·  ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable We do have wotsits though.
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Until the skips introduce ethnic cleansing on all savoury snacks
      about an hour ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I heard that Cadburys products have been roaming around raping the Walkers products.
      What next Mini Chedders in the gas chamber? It's a mad world we live in!!!

      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Yeah I heard robinsons were spreading that on the grapevine
      about an hour ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I read somewhere that a twix family woke up in the night to the image of a burning cross made out of chip sticks on their lawn. A gang of young hula hoops were seen rolling away from the scene. Tragic.
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Yep they rolled right in to a bunch of liquorice allsorts gangbanging some aniseed balls on the corner and shit got messy
      about an hour ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I hear there's a large 'Bounty' on their heads.
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Yeah I heard 5 bags of chocolate penny's for any nutritional information that leads to an arrest
      about an hour ago ·
    •  

      Paul Marrable Chocolate prisons are the worst, you never know when you might get jumped and have to endure a cadbury's finger.
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Theres 'hundreds and thousands' in the chocolate prison system most of them being swallowed up without anyone even noticing!
      about an hour ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I blame the gang culture, I hear the Eclairian brotherhood are badass! But you also got to watch out for the 'Crisps and the Spuds'
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Not to forget the Mexican tortillas and dips, it's like a proverbial all you can eat buffet in there
      about an hour ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I know, the prison guards are the real 'Heros' though. I think they need a 'time out'. Maybe they should go to london and have a drink at one of those 'Star Bars' even ride one of the classic 'Double Deckers' see some sights and just all round 'flake' out.
      about an hour ago ·

    • Graham McCann Yeah those 'celebrations' would really take it out of them! Would need some foam eggs for breakfast possibly served to them on a milk tray with some popping candy to cure their hangovers with a sugar rush
      57 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable They're gonna have to buy their wife's some 'Roses' to make up for it but they'll be on a 'rocky road'
      53 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann I can definitely see the need for some jelly rings to bring a smile back to their faces
      49 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable Sure would give them the 'boost' they need.
      49 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann Otherwise they would feel they were constantly walking through treacle for the rest of their lives, nothing worse than a milk maid scorned
      48 minutes ago · ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable This is getting out of hand, anymore posts and it'll send a 'ripple' through the 'galaxy'!
      45 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann It's nothing that hasn't been seen before on mars, exactly how the milky way was formed
      42 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable It so true, I 'revel' in this stuff but I think we're getting off 'topic'
      38 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann I agree, This is turning into a marathon and snickers wouldn't approve
      36 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable Yeah, it's been fun though. We should go for a 'picnic' sometime so I can 'wispa' some 'temptations' in your ear. Does this sound like I pack 'fudge'?
      27 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann Yeah you're certainly sounding like you've tossed a few 'fruit salads' just make sure you don't 'chewit' treat it like a 99
      24 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable What, try not to let it drip?
      18 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann You can't let it drip until you've had a 'chocolate dip'
      17 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable Could be worse, I could always 'Chomp' or worse 'twirl' it!
      17 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann It's to be considered like an everlasting gobstopper, lick and suck it til you're done
      16 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable I'm gonna have to 'Go-ahead' and quit it's been 'sweet' talking to you. Although there has been some 'cheesy moments'
      13 minutes ago ·

    • Graham McCann It's been a fun size part of my day!
      12 minutes ago ·
    •  
      Paul Marrable It's been and absolute turkish delight!
      10 minutes ago ·

Wednesday 20 July 2011

The Princess And The Paperclip

 
Vermeer’s 'The Milk Maiden'
Just to add a bit of class.
 Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.
A long, long time ago, there was a wonderful milk maiden who lived in the enchanted suburbs of the west midlands, it was said that she was of such beauty that even those without sight could sense it.
One day whilst milking daisy the cash cow she came upon a handsome prince who immediately offered her a low paid administrative roll in a market research company located in the far away land of Warwick Technology Park.
Cover of Machiavelli's 'The Prince'
Keeping it high brow

She accepted the roll with much relish and soon the maiden and the prince fell stereotypically in love over by the faulty fax machine with the annoying hum. The Princes parents, the king and queen of HR, were sceptical of their coupling as they were unsure a mere temp would be suitable princess material. No maiden short of having a mid to high salary position including a decent pension plan and company car had ever become a princess!




So they devised a test, it was said that only a lady fair enough to become a princess could feel a single paperclip located below a thousand pages of high quality, headed, A4 laser paper. So that very afternoon they insisted the Maiden copy type a proposed business plan whilst seated upon a thousand sheets of high quality, headed, A4 laser paper instead of her ergonomic, heath and safety approved, office chair with air adjustable height and added lumbar support.


Just some paper really

In truth she found this surprisingly comfortable (although constantly aware of the danger of ignoring office health and safety procedure) but when asked by the king how she was getting on she replied 'Not very well, I seem to be only managing 35 words per minute compared to my average 50. It must be that I'm so uncomfortable on this high quality, headed, A4 laser paper. It seems so lumpy!'



'Well!' the king exclaimed 'Only a maiden fit for a princess could have felt that paperclip! She shall marry our son at once and shall bare his child, and when she does we'll send someone to Sainsbury to buy a card and all in the land shall sign upon it.'

And a Little something for the ladies!

And so, the prince and his princess lived happily ever after, despite only receiving statutory maternity leave and the prince being made redundant after the contract with Glaxosmithkline fell through.

'But how did she know about the paperclip?' I hear you ask, well the answer is simple: Janet in accounts told her.




Magical regards,
Mr M : Fairy blogmother