YouTube Promo 3

Hey guys, Face Uncle back to rock-k-k-k-k your world.

Yeah, let that hit you like a brick.

You know me, guys, I’m a pretty silly person when you get down to it. I’m known for my wacky sense of humour and I’m pretty much up for anything. Sometimes though you have to get serious. Sometimes you think of something and you can’t let it go because it means something.

Sometimes science needs a helping hand.

You don’t need me to tell you whether or not birds need lips but I’m hoping you’ll watch my video where we finally decide whether or not birds need lips.

Don’t forget to like, comment and subscribe!

Rescued by an old friend

When we bought our house five years ago, we moved in to a former military town where all the army things were being steadily demolished and replaced with new housing estates. As part of this new utopian vision, we kept being told that there would be a new town centre, which would one day materialise on the big patch of derelict space in the middle of town five minutes’ walk from our new place.

Over the years we’ve kept hearing stories about all the brilliant things that will be there once they build it, putting a range of wonderful conveniences on our doorstep. But the big derelict space continued to be big, derelict and empty. Would we even live to see this fabled wonderland, this Eden of small town commerce?

Well, finally, things are changing. A couple of months ago work started to build the steel frames of the first building, which will be a big Sainsbury’s, soon to be surrounded by other things as part of a phased construction project. And in the last couple of weeks, with people and cranes and diggers on site, new signs have gone up to advertise the company building it. I couldn’t be more delighted. Look who it is!

As yet, though, no sign of their cufflinks or their children. I’ll keep looking.

Chris can’t organise a village fête

Someone had to say something.

There we are, having a good ole friendly chat at the Winston when this Chris guy starts talking about some formal occasion he’s organising. Nice one, right?

Wrong. He’s got it all wrong. What should be an easy win with an open goal turns into an own goal which smells of bad eggs and then renames all the roads in England and Wales without telling him, and they’re super silly names too that you’ll never remember.

I get the impression he’s never been to a village fête, let alone sorted one out. Here’s all the information we have so far:

What he does have:

A carousel
A big event (possibly involving cars)
Everyone turning up in formal dress

What he doesn’t have:

A craft tent full of bickering old ladies
A white elephant stall selling all the piddling crap people got for Christmas that were too embarrassed to drop off at a charity shop
A man with a laser who loves lasering names into pieces of wood, metal and any other material that’s safe for his laser
Whack-a-rat (sometimes known as ‘Splat the rat’)
A cake stall where someone has mislabelled the prices so a full fruitcake is 99p but a single scone is £4.99
An announcer who is so muffled by feedback nobody can tell what he or she is saying
Terrible weather halfway through that clears up after 8 minutes, giving all the old people something to talk about for the rest of the afternoon

As you can see, there’s a lot of work that needs doing in a very short period of time. I’m also sure I’ve missed a few obvious ones there.

I would recommend the services of Kevin “been doing this 30 years, bruh” Hill because he’s been, well, you probably get the jist. The experience and expertise he can bring will be invaluable and will ensure that Chris and his village fête are quintessentially perfect in the eyes of everyone who attends. The eyes are all that matter.

I’ll bring a bag of pennies and the overwhelming optimism of a man who hasn’t watched the news for two decades.

Big Ian

We all know how slow bureaucracy can be. Fill in the forms and wait years for action. Call every day only to be put on hold with no explanation. But eventually it all pays off.

We all know that fathers of grown ups are Big. Our lives have been overseen by these titans of parenthood. But one among us has reached this status for themselves, and now – despite cutbacks in the civil service and the lack of urgency in the postal system – his official certificate has arrived.

It’s time for us to acknowledge Big Ian.

Newsboost – All is well in Benwell

Shock news today as an area in the North East of England has been crowned the World Health Organisation’s top place for mental health.

Benwell, an area in the West end of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, has been given the accolade by the WHO after it was voted the best place to improve your sense of well-being, but it wasn’t an easy ride and did involve a drastic last minute name change.

“First impressions are everything and Benwell has been giving out the wrong kind for years now,” says local councillor Felicity Dropping. “We decided that it was time for a change and so some of the local school children suggested changing the name. All it took was erasing one letter. It certainly saved a lot of money when updating all the nearby signs.”

Benwell, now christened Be Well, has had a flurry of tourists visiting the area since the name change.

“It’s amazing how drastically everything has changed. We weren’t even trying for any kind of award. We used to be known for our crime statistics and now we’re known for our easy going nature and herbal teas.”

The place has seen a 700% rise in tourism since the name change, an unprecedented amount all things considered. This has mostly been Europeans, with a huge collection of Danish shoe makers flooding the town. The Local Authority are also looking to invest in the area to capitalise on this good will.

“We’re hoping Starbucks are going to build one of their drive through coffee shops, that will really add a touch of class,” Felicity continued, “we’ve also seen interest from McDonalds, McVitties and Donald’s dodecahedrons. Its such an exciting time for everyone involved.”

Only time will tell if Be Well will stay well.

Public Glasses

Now that I am visually challenged, I have come to understand the true value of seeing things. For so many years I took for granted my ability to just point my eyes at something and see it properly. Now my feeble oculus needs prosthetic assistance, I realise what a gift sight can be. I’ve been a fool all these years. An ignorant fool. An ignorant fool with 20:20 vision.

That is why I have started a campaign: Public Glasses.

My new charitable organisation will place glasses at strategic points across the UK, so that everyone can look at things no matter where they are.

No longer will you need to squint at a blurry landscape or the fuzzy remnants of an Iron Age hill fort. Whenever you feel the need to direct your peepers at something, just grope around at your barely identifiable surroundings, and there you’ll find a pair of specs, placed there for the benefit of the nation by Public Glasses.

I’ve made a start by filling my local park with glasses, and I encourage you to do the same. Then, when you’ve done that, donate all your money to my charity. Together we’ll bring the gift of eyesight to the masses.

The thin door

The door is thin. Really thin.

The sign on the door is French. Really French.

Whatever is inside is a secret. The door is locked. Locked with a thin key. A thin, French key.

What could be inside? Only the thinnest French treasure.

Perhaps the recipe for the perfect baguette.

Perhaps a lifetime supply of those chocolate Mikado sticks.

Perhaps the world’s longest tube of LU chocolate biscuits.

Perhaps a string of onions twelve storeys high.

But you will never know, because the thin door is too thin for you to get through.

Too thin and too French.

Scientist needed

Where’s a good scientist when you need one?

In my many travels as orb parent (and by “travels” I mean walking us both to the local Co-op and back), I keep my eyes open for anything that can be used as a Beans post. Anything. With not much going on apart from feeding, nappies and vomiting, and most of that can be attributed to me, I need a little inspiration in order to keep the raw gold coming from my fingers.

As I was preparing to tidy up the kitchen, I clocked the back of a plastic bottle waiting to be washed out before being recycled. It was then that my peepers saw this:

You what?

Partially inverted sugar syrup? Partially inverted?!

Do they need to twist the space time continuum in order to make sure my porridge tastes great?

I need someone with some kind of degree and a knack for science to explain to me what this means. I refuse to Google this like everyone else.