Proposal: Boring Beans

Good day to you.

I am here to propose a change to this website in light of recent developments.

The Problem

Recently things around here have been too exciting. In just the last three posts there has been talk of goats, owls and handkerchiefs. We cannot go on at this breakneck pace and our readership must surely be suffering from intolerable fatigue. Something has to change.

The Proposal

I now propose that we redirect our efforts and rename this website Boring Beans. In future, all posts must be classified as either “dull”, “tedious” or “soporific”. The colour scheme would be a relaxing mix of greys and beiges. Suitable topics for new posts will include:

A discussion of the merits of different methods of preparation for potatoes
A photo gallery of close-up pictures demonstrating the texture of a number of different bricks
A list of names for different shades of brown

Please give this proposition your fullest consideration and respond with your payment in full by cheque within the next seven days.

Thank you for your time.

Dr. Christopher J. Numbers

Wisdom of the 1970s

Yes, I know, the 1970s are now the often-maligned decade that brought us dodgy celebrities and brown corduroy flares. It is hard to forgive such things. But one thing the 70s did know a thing or two about is sunstroke. How do you keep the sun off your overheating head? The 70s know. The 70s have it all figured out, and it has nothing to do with expensive sun cream or buying an overpriced straw hat from an itinerant beach salesman.

Broken Cake

Today I arrived at work and found this on my desk waiting for me.

I am confused by this. Red fault tags are supposed to be used to label technical equipment that has been broken and logged with the appropriate department. I have not been trained in the correct protocol to use when cake has been labelled in this way.

Anyway, long story short, I ate the cake. It was nice. It didn’t taste particularly broken.

Is anyone here a doctor? If so, can you tell me if I am in any danger? Thanks.

Lost treasures

I’ve been having a clear out this weekend and I found this 20-year-old NOW album:

Nearly 20 years ago I got it for Christmas, along with an Alba mini hi-fi system that had a tape deck, CD player and AM/FM radio. Those were the days. Here’s a selection of the great hits from this double-tape compilation:

Ace of Base – I Saw the Sign
Whigfield – Saturday Night
Corona – Rhythm of the Night
D:Ream – Things Can Only Get Better
East 17 – It’s Alright (The Guvnor Mix)
Aswad – Shine
Reel 2 Real – I Like To Move It
Doop – Doop

Unfortunately when I opened the box, tape 2 was missing, so while you can still listen to Come Baby Come by K7 and Swamp Thing by the Grid, everything that was on the second tape – from Searching by China Black to The Perfect Year by Dina Carroll to Return to Innocence by Enigma – is now gone.

But we all know that tape 1 side 1 was always the best part of the album and the rest was mostly tracks you’d skip.

Trekkin’ Abroad – France (Part 4)

Having discovered a secret tunnel under the sea, I passed quietly across the border into France undetected, arriving in their capital city, “Paris”, in the early afternoon. I took an apartment in the 16th arrondissement and started my new life cycling around parks and examining museums for clues. Nothing. Then one day, in the lift, someone else rode all the way up to the 8th floor with me. An enemy agent? One of their informers? I couldn’t be sure.

I packed my bags and left early the next morning, covering my trail with stories of a poorly relative in Geneva. It was a bittersweet departure; my apartment had the finest coffee machine I’ve experienced in recent years and I couldn’t fit it into my suitcase. I will remember it always.

I took a train somewhere, anywhere, ending up in the far west of the country where I spent the last two weeks hiding in a barn before negotiating my return to Plymouth on a fishing smack, hidden under a pile of nets and fish.

I’m never leaving England again. I am a scarred man. I still smell a bit like fish. So much for France.

Your New Favourite Band: tUnE-yArDs

In the second post of what disappointingly appears to be a regular series, where we find out about the people behind one of the top modern bands in the pop charts, we look at the popular beat combo tUnE-yArDs.

Brooklyn-based team Tune-Yards (usually stylised as “tUnE-yArDs”) come from Brooklyn, an area of New York, and started their career playing music in Brooklyn USA. They were founded by Prunella Squitzelberger (pictured above) who performs lead vocals and effects a sort of improvised skiffle percussion using bubble gum. The band’s first album was a particularly sparse affair, featuring only the sound of chewing, inflating and popping, interspersed with spoken word recitals of Squitzelberger’s own abstract poetry, but with the addition of Dupe Kingsnorth on bass and cello the act has become much more lively.

The band’s current album, “Nikki Nack”, is their third, and to date their most successful, quickly outselling 2006’s “Chewniverse” and 2010’s impenetrable effort “Doctor McCluskey’s Casebook”. It has gained plenty of airplay on radio stations across the Brooklyn, NY area, where the band is from, and has all the signs of being part of the elusive “Brooklyn Sound” that is proving so popular there.

The power behind the throne is, of course, DJ and producer Nizzle, whose cool electronic beats and occasional rhythm-free blasts of overpowering white noise lend the latest album a cool chic and an unmistakeable now-ness.

The Fist of Justice

It was a nice evening. Everyone was there, everyone was having a nice time. Some of them had even managed to get hold of a drink and were feeling a little merry. Around the table tiny foods were consumed and the party spirit was rampant.

Suddenly the picture changed. Swinging through the air and landing on the table was the Evil Minion. His pallid, sickly yellow skin and greasy, limp hair were a sickening sight. Some of those with weaker stomachs had to turn away. He had landed squarely in front of the Partymaster, the Birthday Boy himself, and was presenting his foul dungarees as an unwashed challenge to us all. In front of him, on the table, was what looked like a small brown cake, but we knew it was really an explosive device, set to blow the whole deal sky high.

Mr Chang, the brave party thrower, was quick with his Samurai breadknife, beheading the Evil Minion in one smooth movement. He didn’t stand a chance to detonate his destructive delicacy. The show was over. A second blow bisected what remained of his torso, spilling hideous guts everywhere.

The emergency services arrived to cordon off the scene and the party dispersed into the Leeds night, some being rushed to hospital for trauma, and others the walking wounded, safe tonight but consigned to a lifetime of therapy to help them through their harrowing ordeal. As I got up to leave the scene, I dealt a blow for all that was good in the world and all that was right. My strong fist of justice obliterated what was left of the Minion’s grisly remains. I fisted that Minion good.

For as long as there are good people like me in the world, evil will not prevail.

Mr Chang’s Tasty Wares

If you go to one of the Thai restaurants in Crystal Palace (we’ve got loads of them) you will find them picking up on Kev’s latest business venture, which is brewing a fine, light and refreshing beer with his name on it.

Mr Chang’s is clearly a popular choice with customers here and we wish him the best of luck in this new endeavour.

Pouring
Beans

Author: Chris5156