Trekkin’ Abroad: More France

I went to France again, this time for two actual weeks. I made a number of important discoveries to supplement the important knowledge I gained on my last visit.

France has almost no vegetables. Eating green things is considered suspicious and even ordering a “salad” in a restaurant will cause you to be served with a steak, a large portion of chips, a thick peppercorn sauce and a single leaf of curly lettuce. This is not a bad thing in itself, but I am concerned that the majority of the French population may be permanently constipated.
My skin, especially the skin on the top of my head which has only really been able to see daylight for the last year or two, is liable to burn even when protected by a hat and a layer of factor 30 suncream thick enough to dip crisps in.
I am suffering pastry withdrawal symptoms.
French kitties who live in flowerbeds in the street do not want to be your friend.
Forgetting to post to the Beans while away will cause you to lose one bean on the Bean Counter. The Bean Counter is unforgiving of holiday time.

I was hoping to gather more information over a two week period, but the French are a crafty people, and ensured I was plied with excellent beers, wines and artisanal ciders, so to be honest I don’t really remember much of it and the four points above are all I came away with.

Kitty ownership question

The other day, I found a kitty on the street near my flat and stopped to stroke it. The kitty then followed me all the way home and was quite insistent that the stroking should continue. It was all set to follow me right into the flat and the only way I could stop it coming into the building with me was to distract it temporarily while I ran inside.

This is the kitty.

I have seen the kitty on one other occasion, when my family were visiting, and it seemed equally keen to spend time with all of them. We decided to name her Kevinetta.

My question is this. The kitty appeared to want to come and live with me, but I suspect someone else thinks the kitty lives with them. If I see the kitty again, can I keep it?

Northwards

We all knew it would happen one day, and now it has. I am moving to the North.

Not the North of England, of course. No. Don’t be silly. The commute would be interminable. No, “the North” clearly means “North London”, as anyone safely cushioned within London’s self-obsessed bubble will tell you.

This important change will bring a number of new and exciting features to my life.

I will be commuting to work on a London Tubular Train (described previously on the Beans here, in case you are not familiar with this novel mode of transport).
I will be living in a district of London known as “Ruislip”, which is a complete mystery to me apart from being the setting of every single domestic sitcom of the 1970s. I will therefore be mostly wearing beige flares and a pudding bowl haircut upon moving, and will likely make borderline racist double entendres towards my neighbours to a soundtrack of slide whistles and canned laughter.
I will be closer to the actual North of England than before and reaching me from the outside world will involve significantly less time hacking through the impenetrable jungle of London.
I will no longer have a toilet in every room. (This will be inconvenient but I will have to get used to it.)

I await your warm congratulations on this momentous news, but am realistic about the fact that the state of the Beans lately means I’m basically talking to myself here.

Licenced

What do you do when life makes you weary? How do you lift your spirits from a state of malaise? Well, I don’t know what you do, but I get myself down to the Lego Store with my VIP card on double points day.

On Monday I bought this.

I haven’t actually built it yet because I’m, you know, preparing to move house and everything, but it’s sitting there in its box just waiting for me. The anticipation alone is enjoyable. Anyway, this particular set is only available from the five Lego Stores in London at the moment – nowhere else and not online – and if you took the trouble to go down there and get one, and you flash them your VIP card like I did, you get handsomely rewarded with extra qualifications. My new set came with this.

Yes, you saw right. I am now the proud holder of documentation that proves I am qualified to build and drive this bus. (The cards are individually numbered so I think I’m only the 209th person to get it as well.)

So in future, if you want to build some Lego, that’s fine, but you won’t be getting anywhere near this one unless you’re the holder of a driving licence like I am.

Four Word Reviews: Bugs & Friends Sing the Beatles

1995 is a fertile year for the albums that randomly arrive in the post without any indication of their provenance. That year has already brought us The Lone Ranger and It’s Time. Now it brings us a third forgotten horror, Bugs & Friends Sing the Beatles, subtitled “The Furry Four Sing Their Fab Four Favourites!”.

I have to be honest, I don’t really know where to start. I loved Looney Tunes cartoons when I was a kid. Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck were my favourites, and Disney could absolutely do one. So I had a small glimmer of hope that there might be something entertaining about this. Then I put the CD in and – in a Four Word Reviews first – I genuinely had to pause it at the end of the first track to try and gather my thoughts and steel my nerves to get through the rest.

I don’t even know what’s worst. Is it that they’ve taken on brilliant, beautiful songs and wilfully converted them into vehicles for terrible puns on other Beatles song names and cartoon fights with lots of sound effects? Is it the fact that almost every song breaks down in the middle into a spoken-word sketch of some kind? Is it that even when they’re not talking, they mostly speak the lyrics in “funny” voices or respond to them in some way? Is it the patronising Indian accent in “Fool on the Hill” when Elmer Fudd is asking his swami for spiritual guidance?

Actually, no, I do know what’s the worst and it’s none of those. It’s that you’re not even listening to Bugs, Daffy, Elmer and Taz. You’re listening to four bad impressions of Bugs, Daffy, Elmer and Taz and they are slowly battering eleven Beatles songs into an early grave. Taz doesn’t really matter because he’s not in it much, but his character isn’t really meant to speak. Elmer’s voice is wobbly and cracked and sounds awful when singing. Daffy is vaguely convincing until he does his catchphrase “woohoo!” and then the actor loses the character a bit. And Bugs is… well, I don’t know who Bugs is, but he’s not Bugs Bunny. It’s not convincing at all. He doesn’t even speak in the right register. I have never missed Mel Blanc so badly.

Track	Title	Word 1	Word 2	Word 3	Word 4
1	She Loves You	She	wouldn’t	love	this
2	The Fool on the Hill	Elmer	Fudd’s	harrowing	vocal
3	Birthday	Includes	reference	to	Laserdiscs
4	Hello Goodbye	Joyless	Bugs/	Daffy	argument
5	With a Little Help From My Friends	Elmer	bludgeons	another	classic
6	It Won’t Be Long	It	was	too	long
7	Yesterday	Daffy	Duck	singing	“suddenly”
8	Penny Lane	Oh	god	I	can’t
9	Help!	Yosemite	Sam’s	unwelcome	debut
10	Can’t Buy Me Love	No	no	no	no
11	The Long and Winding Road	Featuring	Roadrunner	“meep	meeps”

The jokes are bad. The sketches are bad. The scripted-to-death ad libs are bad. The changes to the lyrics are bad. The way they shoehorn other Beatles song titles into their jokes is beyond bad. The instrumental version of “The Long and Winding Road” that featured only backing vocals and Roadrunner – “the long and winding road MEEP MEEP that leads to your door” – was painful. But I think worst of all is that I listened to the album and it made me realise what brilliantly written songs these are and how sad it was to hear them being taken for granted and pillaged for cheap laughs that mostly don’t land by people without even half the talent of the original songwriters. It’s a horrible parody of brilliant music by people doing a horrible pastiche of a brilliant voiceover artist. There’s no joke at the end of this paragraph. It’s just really sad.

In all, this was among the worst things I’ve ever listened to, though still not as bad as “To The Extreme” by Vanilla Ice which is the worst thing that has ever happened to me and will never be matched. My favourite thing about this album was Daffy Duck singing “suddenly!” in Yesterday. My least favourite thing was basically everything else.

Garforth takes its place in the history of rave

You might think that our humble home town of Garforth has a very low key history that starts with coal mining and ends with the time Tesco moved into the old Safeway’s. The people living there might have enjoyed listening to music but it has no famous musicians. Nearby Kippax can claim The Music as their own local band, but Garforth remains quiet. There is absolutely no way it could have played a role in the Eurodance scene of the mid-1990s.

Well, I am about to blow that idea right out of the water, because it turns out that Garforth played a very central role in mid-90s rave music. It happened right next to the Old George. Don’t believe me? I will explain. Let’s talk about N-Trance. (And if you don’t want to talk about N-Trance, that’s a shame, because we’re going to.)

This Way Up: Episode 6

Yes! You have been waiting, no doubt, a very long time for this and you have been waiting impatiently. Your foot has been tapping. You have looked at your watch so frequently that the numbers have been worn off its face. You have sighed pointledly to no avail. Well, wait no more, because it’s here: the season finale of This Way Up has just landed right in front of your ears. If you ask me it’s the best one of the whole series.

Six episodes of this magnificent folly are now at an end, but there will be outtakes to follow for the fans to collect and put in a sticker book.

Election results 2017

It’s been an exciting campaign, most of which has happened away from The Beans since the election was first announced back in April which is why we haven’t heard anything about it here since it was first called. But the day is finally here, and the results are in. Let’s go now live to the civic centre in South Beans for the results as the candidates take to the podium.

“I, Professor Louche, being the Returning Officer for South Beans constituency, hereby announce the results for the election of the Member of Parliament for South Beans.

King, Saint Jim Wilkins: eight thousand, four hundred and twenty nine.

McJEEFY, EEFORD RONALD ALOYSIUS WILKINS, commonly known as EEFY McJEEFY: four thousand, nine hundred and three.

Cockall, Nonnington Nen Nay Wilkins, commonly known as Nonny Cockall: four.

Lady, Sexatronic Wilkinia: six thousand, two hundred and eighty three.

Kitty, Flat: twelve thousand and thirty two.

Flat Kitty is therefore elected as the member of parliament for Beans South. Thank you.”

Well, there we have it! An astonishing result for Flat Kitty, bringing her agenda for high-speed pancake delivery to the front of mainstream politics. There will be a lot to discuss in the days to come but for now we will all begin by pledging allegiance to our new MP and overlord. Or possibly overkitty.

Pouring
Beans

Author: Chris5156