Ultimate Squirrels

Posted By Mark on Nov 28, 2009

My Dearest Margaret, I’m looking for somewhere to bury my nuts this winter. Somewhere warm and safe from predators. Have you got anywhere that’s warm and a little damp where I can store my nuts? I’m really asking about sex and not a cellar or anything like that. Nuttily yours, Roderick. And so one erotically-challenged and misdirected email began my series of exchanges with Roderick who turned out to be the head honcho of Europe’s very own Ultimate Squirrel League Of Friends. When I first heard of the league my assumption was that they were a bunch of moderately odd furries with a penchant for fighting. Three-eighths of that assumption was indeed correct. However, the multitudinous members of the Ultimate Squirrel League Of Friends were also not of this world, merely trapped on this planet, doomed to live out the remainders of their not inconsiderate lifespans avoiding direct contact with humans (other than Squirrel Sympathisers such as Margaret). Needless to say but when I uncloaked their dark secret they set out to silence me in the only way they knew how: deathly death by death cudgels! I had anticipated their assault and devised a series of cunning traps – a rope suspended between two trees with a large, spinning board halfway along its length, a feeder suspended from an overhanging branch but tilted at an angle to cause a terrifying wobbling and rotating effect for anything of weight that attached itself to it, and so on – but you don’t get to be an alien species hiding out on the third rock from a yellow dwarf sun far from home in space and time without learning a trick or two and they came to my front door dressed as Jehovah’s Witnesses. I have a soft spot for Jehovah’s Witnesses – my knuckles (just kidding; my knee) – and so was taken completely by surprise when they whipped out their death-dealing cudgels. I was saved by something we humans came up which never made it all the way to the Ultimate Squirrel Central Dyson Sphere: Basic Instinct. By uncrossing my legs to expose my underwearless genital area I bought myself precious seconds of Revulsion Time; an eternity for a master in the art of running away to create a daring escape. My escape was thwarted by my arch enemy in all matters: my cat. Atrracted by the scent of Jehovah’s Witness-adorned, humanesque-masked, sentient squirrels from beyond the stars, and coupled with his own nosiness he had padded slowly down the hallway and crouched behind me waiting to pounce upon the very meal he had dreamt of only the night before....

Thanksgiving

Posted By Mark on Nov 25, 2009

It’s very nearly almost Thanksgiving Day in Americaland and – although I’m neither American nor do I have any American blood in me nor do I harbour any urge to venture across the briny sea to America – I do like to join in just a little bit with the celebration involving the merest hint of giving thanks wrapped in a giant pastry of alcohol-consumption and watching some NFL. It’s easy to mock Americans from afar – it’s really, really easy actually – but it takes a big man to say "Now, whoa there horsey! Those yanks might be loud and arrogant and often obnoxious and behind many of the world’s problems but they’ve also given us quiet, contemplative, superior, more-intelligent, better-looking people some good stuff too!" It just so happens that I’m a big man. Where it counts. Yeah, you know what I’m saying. Massive cranium and ego. Off. The. Scale. Also, I’m overweight with an average-sized penis. But enough about overweight people with average-sized genitalia! We’re here to talk about Americans and Thanksgiving Day. I’m not just thankful that they’re (mostly) all over there. Here’s what I also like about America and Americans: American Football · a masterpiece of sporting creation which deserves a place in everyone’s personal Sports Hall Of Fame alongside the yet-to-be-invented Bungee Fencing and Roller Darts. Thanks for gridiron America. Mystery Science Theater 3000 · quite possibly the greatest TV show ever made featuring robots and silhouettes and they should never have cancelled it and it should still be running and yes, I know there’s always Rifftrax, but it’s not the same and I miss Tom Servo and Crow and Mike was better than Joel, yes, I said it, and I liked Pearl too, yes, I said that as well. Thanks for Big McLarge Huge America. Christopher Walken · other than his very name what else can possibly be said? Thanks for the cowbell America. John Waters · intelligent (which I like) and twisted (which I like) and likes to get behind the lens (which I like) all adds up to the greatest film maker ever (which I like). Thanks for John Waters America. Sarah Palin · no, I don’t support her policies (assuming there are any) and no, I don’t like her for her intellect (caged and starved of love and light as it is) and no, I don’t like her for her looks (some people wear glasses and look smart and some people wear glasses and simply look like they would otherwise have trouble reading the things that they more often have trouble comprehending) but I do like the fact that...

First Draft: Treasure Island

Posted By Mark on Nov 7, 2009

The Peter Mandelson Plan

Posted By Mark on Nov 5, 2009

The Peter Mandelson Plan 1. Peter Mandelson is a politician. 2. Politicians are, on the whole, a bunch of self-serving, lying, power-crazed scum. 3. Peter Mandelson proposes that the families of those accused of violating copyright will have their access to the internet removed. Accused. Not proven. Not even supported with evidence. Merely, simply accused. The Me Plan 1. I don’t like politicians. 2. Or many other groups for that matter. 3. I propose that we all let Peter Mandelson’s plan come into force and then use it against those who would strip away our own rights. Or those who just annoy me. I suggest that: every politician, every member of the music and film industry who actually thinks it’s anything other than a maturing audience and their crappy business model and crappier output at fault for any drop in barely-earned revenue, every journalist who simply spins a corporate line and feeds us all bullshit, every person connected in some way with a media corporation run by someone whose surname rhymes with Burdock, every politician (in case some were missed the first time), every person who types in capital letters, every person who regularly mixes up the words "your" and "you’re" (or any of the other commonly-confused character concoctions), everybody still using Internet Explorer 6, every politician (you can never be too sure) is subjected to continual copyright violation accusations. Get them all off the net. It’s not as if any of them really have the faintest clue what it’s for or how it all works anyway. And it’ll free up some bandwidth to grab the latest shows from America quicker...

Song Subjects: Where Are They Now?

Posted By Mark on Oct 24, 2009

Musicians and songwriters are a lazy bunch of nogoodniks; when they’re not writing or singing about love then they’re almost inevitably writing or singing about a person. Where are the songs about giraffes flying blimps? Where are the songs about streetlamp demons unable to find late-night pharmacies on a Sunday? Call themselves artists? Rubbish! There’s no bloody art in doing the same piece over and over again. Do you think the people at the Louvre would replace their perfectly overrated Mona Lisa every time some nobody with a PR team from Warner turned up and said "This spunky, fresh, exciting teenager has just produced a spunky, fresh, exciting copy of the Mona Lisa but brought it up-to-date with a spunky, fresh, exciting, street look that only people of no taste would mistake for talentless crayoning"? No, they wouldn’t. That’s possibly because they’re French and obstinate but the point stands. I’m going off on a tangent. Let’s get back to what I was going to talk about: people in music. Songs have been written and performed about people for decades. Occasionally, those people-centric ditties are fabricated entities in their entirety. Works of fiction. Musical pieces with dribbles of imagination. Most often, however, the songs are about genuine people that the writers have known in real life. You may be wondering: "I wonder, in my current state of wonderment, just what wonderful thing has happened to the wonderful people mentioned in those wonderful (sometimes) songs." If you’re not wondering that after all the effort I’ve gone to to put that thought into your head then you should probably stop reading now. Sister Sledge – He's The Greatest DancerUploaded by PeteRock Sister Sledge – He’s The Greatest Dancer From The Song: This funky disco song – sampling heavily from Will Smith’s Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It – never tells us The Greatest Dancer’s actual name but we do learn from it that the dancer liked dancing in San Francisco, had a great body, attractive face, wore designer clothes from the likes of Gucci and Fiorucci, and never left the disco alone. After The Song: Obviously, the greatest dancer was a flaming homosexual. After the song’s release he continued to dance and wow everyone until his abilities started to wane, the result of a hard-to-clear bout of pneumonia. He became known at this time as The Greatest Early Sufferer Of Gay-Related Immune Deficiency and, later, The Greatest HIV-Sufferer. Nowadays, he’s better known as The Greatest Corpse. ***bee_gees__more_than_a_woman***Uploaded by maverick0808 Bee Gees – More Than A Woman From The Song: Controversy has always courted the songs of the brothers Gibb, writers of this track featured...

Brighton: A Visitor’s Guide

Posted By Mark on Oct 18, 2009

There are three major cities along the south coast of England that would-be tourists are likely to visit: Portsmouth – the obvious choice, home of everything you’d actually find interesting, what a great city! Southampton – feeling suicidal? Or maybe you just need a reminder that your life isn’t quite as bad as you think? That Other One – no, not Plymouth, the one the other way, you know, in every sense of the phrase. Huh? Yeah? Yeah, you know what I mean! That other one is Brighton. Getting To Brighton If you’re heading in from the west then the A27 provides the most direct route. Pay special attention when you turn off the A27 lest you accidentally head off towards Lewes. I headed off towards Lewes once. Once! We never talk about the Lewes experience. If you’re heading in from the east or coming down from London then you’ll need to look at a map or get yourself one of those fancy satellite navigational thingies because I live to the west of Brighton so using those routes really isn’t in my interest. Getting Around Brighton You could try walking but it’s quite a sprawling city with lots more hilly areas than you’d expect so I wouldn’t if I were you. Driving is an option but it’s also not a good one. The bus does provide the most convenient method of getting into and around the city proper from the outskirts but please bear in mind that "most convenient" is a very relative term in this case. Brighton provides a Park & Ride service from the Withdean Stadium. Simply park at the Withdean Stadium (signposted clearly on your way in unless you’ve accidentally ended up in Lewes when suddenly everything is backwards and scary and all you want to do is not crash and get out quickly, but we don’t talk about Lewes) and then ride on the bus right into the heart of Brighton. They used to provide a dedicated bus for the service but now they just put you on the number 27 route which is far, far, far longer and takes you on a three quarters of an hour in-depth exploration of, apparently, every single bus stop Brighton has to offer. I’m not saying that someone on Brighton’s council has a brother who manufactures bus stop poles so they thought it would be a good idea to erect one every forty feet, and I’m not saying that Brighton is full of the laziest people on the planet who think nothing of letting the bus stop to allow people on or off then waiting for it to...