Minutes of the initial scoping meeting for the recently proposed “Best of the Papples” album project, held at Pouring Beans Records Inc. head office, as recorded on a tiny piece of kitchen roll.
Author: Chris5156
What kind of alpaca are you?
Here at The Beans, we get a lot of questions and enquiries from our adoring fans, but there’s one issue that comes up more than any other: what kind of alpaca you are. It’s obviously impossible for us to investigate each person in full and answer each letter individually to let people know what kind of alpaca they are. Instead, we’ve produced this handy quiz that you can score for yourself and find out approximately what kind of alpaca you are.
Record your score for each question and then scroll down to find your match.
The Petition
Some time ago now, it became clear that Monty Don was a famous ex-rapper who we all wanted to see back in the game.
I was proud to play my part in collecting signatures for a petition to get him back behind the mic, and I’m prouder than proud – keen, even – to share the petition I collected here.
It’s got its own page in the Things section, or you can just click on the big Monty Dons here.
Smidge on Science: Time
What is time? I don’t know. I mean, I know what It’s Time is – it’s a horrendous album – but I don’t know what time is. And you don’t either. If you think you do, try explaining it to someone, and you’ll immediately hear the ignorance falling stupidly out of your mouth.
Not to worry. Smidge Manly, renowned world expert on railways and Essex, returns once again to the world of science to answer all your questions.
That’s the last in the present series of Smidge on Science. Will he be back? We simply don’t know. Only time will tell.
New beans, please
“One! Ha ha ha. Two! Ha ha ha. Three! Ha ha ha.” The immortal wisdom of the Count.
Here on the Beans, our counting is not done by a furry purple vampire, but by the Bean Counter, an ingenious piece of machinery made from old sofa springs and a second-hand nuclear reactor that we found in a car boot sale. For more than four years now it’s been faithfully counting up our posts and generating new genetically-modified beans and peas as a reward for our performance, while also disgorging between eight and twelve tons of a resinous toxic by-product into the picturesque River Swale each day.
The highly complicated algorithm by which it awards beans has remained the same since early 2014, so it’s no surprise that earlier this year there were calls for an overhaul of the system to better reflect the realities of blogging in the futuristic world of 2018.
The point of the Bean Counter was never to create a level playing field, but rather to produce a playing field with carefully chosen hills and crevices so that we all stand a chance of scoring a Bean each month according to our various blog posting habits. Critics of the existing system pointed out that it was far easier for Ian to score a Bean than anyone else, and that Kev’s time-consuming building projects meant that three posts in a month was an unattainably high bar for him to reach.
I am delighted to announce, as a result, that major engineering works have been completed and the Bean Counter is now operating a completely new set of rules.
- Kev will now score a Bean if he makes two (2) posts in a month.
- Ian will now score a Bean if he makes precisely three (3) or four (4) posts in a month.
- Chris will continue to score a Bean if he makes four (4) or more posts in a month.
Some would say that these new rules should begin operation from this month onwards, and that existing scores should be left alone. Perhaps they should. But I had a go at that and it was really difficult, so the new rules now apply to all previous months as well, causing a major recasting of our historical Bean Counts.
- Kev has gained six (6) additional beans for months in which he made two posts.
- Ian has lost ten (10) beans for months in which he only made two posts.
This is deeply and inherently unfair, which is unfortunate but unavoidable without further major re-engineering work that will just be an absolute faff.
Your comments, detailed feedback and outright anger will be welcome in the comments section below, but may not amount to much.
Four Word Reviews: Eyes of Innocence
Do you remember the 1980s? Do you like 1980s music? Are you keen to hear all the many sounds of 80s pop music on a single album? Yes, yes, yes and yes: the album for you is Eyes of Innocence, the 1984 debut from Miami Sound Machine, better known as Gloria Estefan plus her husband and some guys who would be quickly forgotten about as her solo career took off. Me? I like some 80s music, yes, but I generally don’t require all of it to be performed on a single album by a single band. And yet that is what I got when the postman pushed this through my door.
Umbrellagate
I was very angry about it, I can tell you. I swore liberally and at considerable length.
Wait. Let me go back a bit.
So, last night I went to some birthday drinks for Robin, a friend of mine and a fine upstanding citizen. We met in a pub on the south bank in London. Rain was forecast all day, so I took my new umbrella. I love my new umbrella: it’s black and very stylish, and it’s got bright green trim so it looks very cool, and it’s got a push button on the handle that makes it open right out all on its own with a satisfying fwump noise. I kept it leaning against my seat all night.
Just before I left, I went to the toilet, leaving the rest of the party around the table. When I got back, and picked up my jacket, my umbrella was not there.
I asked other people if they’d seen it. I searched behind furniture and under chairs. I looked around at other tables. I asked behind the bar. Nobody could explain it. Nobody had seen it. It had gone. Clearly, some light-fingered Cockney wideboy had seen it leaning there, unobserved, and nabbed it, and was now strolling casually along the south bank with my umbrella in his filthy, criminal hands, probably whistling “Knees Up Mother Brown” as he did so.
At this point I was angry, as described earlier.
Anyway, on the train home, about 40 minutes later, Robin sent me a photo of some people at the party with my umbrella. They’d all been leaving as the pub was closing, and they’d found it leaning by the table – not the table I’d been sitting at, but another just next to it. I’d checked all the tables before I left – in fact I’d checked the whole bloody pub – and it hadn’t been there. Nobody had noticed its mysterious return. So presumably the Cockney wideboy’s misfiring conscience had got the better of him and he’d returned his ill-gotten rain apparatus.
My umbrella is now safely stored in Robin’s flat in Penge, and my anger has subsided.
I will now take questions from the floor. Thank you.
A celebration of the many Kevs
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?