I was rummaging in the extensive Beans Archive today, looking for inspiration, when I stumbled across this post, made ten years ago today. It marks the occasion on which Mr. Kevin Head turned 24 years old. Well, as you can imagine, I immediately got my calculator out, and blow me if that doesn’t mean that today is very likely to be Mr. Kevin Head’s birthday again. He will be older than 24 today, though I’m not entirely sure by how much.
What better day, then, to celebrate our acquaintance with the Beans’ resident DIY expert and master Giant Magical Computer Appeaser, Kevin “Kevindo Menendez” Menendez?
In conclusion, then: let us all wish many happy returns to our ever-absent but fundamentally well-meaning Chinese friend, Kevin “Old Man Kevvers” Chang. Happy birthday.
35 comments on “A celebration of the many Kevs”
Look at him with his life. What’s that about?
Also look how you’ve celebrated him and his life and he’s too busy loving his life to comment on it.
I know. He acts as though buffing his girders and tapping out his soffits is somehow better than interacting with the likes of us. Which it probably is, but I still find it rude.
Buffing his girders? Tapping out his soffits?
So busy he still hasn’t had time to crack his eyes all over this.
Wheeeeeey… no, that was just weird.
I’ve lived a long and strange life but I’ve never heard of anyone cracking (or crazking as I typed) their eyes over something. Does it hurt?
I’ve been in my natural habitat of a tent covered field for the last week, with my trusty Nokia the only technology alongside me.
I can confirm that this is an excellent and factually correct look at my many Me’s.
Just there. Under that thing.
Wait, don’t look under that thing. Chris’ face may be hiding there. We can’t say for sure. Get an axe.
Do not, I repeat, do not take an axe to my face.
Is that your money maker? Is that what pays the bills? How many bills can you pay with your face, Chris?
No. My money maker is my firm but shapely ass. My ass can pay all the bills.
Eugh. I’m not sure I wanted to know that. In fact I definitely did not want to know that. I’m trying to forget it.
There’s a lesson there about not asking too many questions. As the philosopher Emmanuel Kant wrote, “if you ask too many questions, sooner or later you’ll hear about my ass”.
I’ve known you for a very long time and all I’ve EVER done is ask your sorry ass questions. Why is this only coming up now?
Sooner or later. You see? Sooner or later. Turns out it was later. By which I mean, now. Now is ass time.
There’s no way of dressing up ‘ass time’ other than a very particular genre of pornography, although my phone, again, would prefer me to use pyrography instead.
That’s exactly what it is. The very particular genre known as Asscore.
I think at this point, we need to ask ourselves how much further down this dark and worrying road we wish to go.
I’m setting up a roadblock right now. A road assblock. Nothing is coming through.
That’s the way. Filter out all the ass.
I’m glad we cleared that up.
Now throw a pint of apple juice in the air for Bobby Constanzo and let’s move on.
Will that ass-ist him in some way?
OH you had to go and do it, didn’t you? You wouldn’t let it lie!
Someone ring the bell (ding ding).
And your other two jokes are… ?
He won’t be back for ages. Don’t expect a couple more zingers from him.
Shall I zing on his behalf then? I expect he’ll try to crack a couple more off (waaaaay!) over the weekend but it’ll be too late by then.
Feel free to zing it up in Kev’s inevitable absence.
I ass-ure you it won’t happen again.
Eugh, he’s back, with a crap crack at the full pack. Kev, your attempt is whack and needs to take a step back. You’ve lost the knack, the future’s black, as relevant as Frak!
Yeah. Whats Frak? Frak sounds pretty whack to me.
Well, you’re right that it’s not relevant. Frak! isn’t relevant at all.
Not anymore and I’m pretty sure he was barely relevant back then.
I do love a bit of Frak! though.
Maybe your dad could make his own version but call it ‘Frank’ and have him dressed as a caveman, hitting monsters with a yoyo.