Cynical Filler

What do you mean?

Who says that this is just a cynical ploy to cram in another post before the end of the month because I forgot to do others during the early part of December? Who says that I am writing whatever comes to mind just to fill enough space to constitute another post for me and my tally?

Who is daring to stand there accusing me of all these things? Who has the ten ton tissue balls to climb up on top of their work station to point the finger at me? Where the hell do you get off blaming me for these matters when there are much bigger, wider, nastier things that you could be accusing me of?

Wait, forget that last one…

Where is the cause for all this animosity when I have done nothing wrong? Why don’t you take a long, cool drink in the mirror and leave me alone scoffing in the corner, counting my beans and giggling like a mouse high on charcoal?

So there.

Questionable Truffles

Having spent a good five minutes looking at this, just what the hell is this?

Truffles I get. Commerce and purchasing items I get. Walking around in supermarkets taking photos of curios and novelties I get. But squiffy truffles? Can you describe a truffle as ‘squiffy’?

Were it not for the fact that my phone recognised the word ‘squiffy’ without much input from me, I would be inclined to start screaming about why such a word should exist and who the Ben Nevis is actually using it in polite conversation or any conversation at all?

I used the word once, maybe twice, in my whole life of lives.

Would you eat a squiffy truffle?

WEAPONS!

How do you store your weapons?

Do you keep them in a cupboard? Do you show them off in a stunning display in the nook at the top of the stairs? Are they lightly nailed to the wooden beam across the dining room ceiling?

A charity shop near where my mum lives likes to keep them in a wooden cot or a crib (I’m not entirely sure which one it is) because that’s how they roll. There’s no room for a baby in there, only tools of war.

The next time you’re trying to make your friends jealous with the chainsaw you just bought, why not take a leaf out of their book? There’s nothing more eye-catching than a cot full of weapons.

Soon everyone will be doing it. Make sure you get there first.

A Touching Message

Books, ah, books. Such curious, interesting things, aren’t they?

And if that was my post in its entirety then that would make for one boring entry in the Beans cannon. Let’s try again.

Books, ah, books. Weird lumps of shit, aren’t they? They are weird. They contain strange stories that come from people’s minds. Sometimes though stranger things can come forth from fiction. Take for example the messages people write in books; a lot of the time it’s a simple message such as, “Happy Birthday Sharon,” or, “Thanking you for your excellent pie, Dennis.” On occasion some people can take it a step too far.

I was browsing the vast and excellent selection of books in a local charity shop close to work when I picked a copy of ‘Wind in the Willows’ by chance. Inside was a message which must have made sense to someone at some point. My own viewpoint, some thirty years later however, left me wondering just who I was and what was going on. It was too good to miss, so here it is:

Barmy.

Stationary Harassment

I was the victim of a crime, a crime that mostly goes unnoticed.

As I returned the trolley to the bay in Asda car park I was greeted by the following sight:

Was this dog doing anything wrong? Not really, he was protecting the car until his owner came back.

Was I doing anything wrong? No, because I was returning the trolley to where it belonged.

So why did the dog look at me as though I HAD done something wrong? Where was the justification for the judgement in his eyes?

I did test this by clocking him on the way past the first time and walking slower on the way back. His eyes burrowed deep into mine, never flinching, never blinking. It was the longest five seconds of my life I’d ever experienced in a car park.

There was the chance that I looked like someone else or perhaps he was hoping I’d open the door and set him free.

Or maybe, just maybe, he was hoping I’d come a little closer so he could bark the fuck out.

I’ll never know what I did to that dog and, quite frankly, I don’t think I want to know.

Loudermilk

Loudermilk. Loudermilk. Is it a request? “This milk is a little quiet for my liking; could I have some Loudermilk please?”

Is it a company? A Finnish crime drama?

It’s none of these things. Loudermilk is a surname. I recently caught the beginning of an episode of what seems like an endless stream of Power Rangers series’. The newest is called something like Mega Team Force Pencil Schnapps Eyebrows. One of the actors is the brilliantly named John Mark Loudermilk.

Then, just to seal the deal in a wigwam, if you type it into Google something else completely different comes up.

‘Loudermilk’ is an American TV comedy series about a recovering alcohol and substance abuse councillor with a bad attitude.

This morning I was not even aware of the word and now I know two very differing kinds of Loudermilk. Could there be more? As I once told Eamonn Holmes, “there’s only one way to find out!”

Unfortunately the library is closed today so we will all have to wait.

This just continues the theory that everything that should be invented has already been invented. Had I been in charge, however, I would have preferred the name ‘Shoutymilk’, and Brian Blessed would have had top billing.

The Joy of Corners

Do you like corners? Do you need more corners in your life? Do you find it hard making very simple decisions?

What you need is Cornercopia!

Hi, I’m Conrad Bundleg and I own Cornercopia, the North-West’s largest supplier of corners in the UK.

We’ve been selling corners for the last twenty years so if you require corners you need to come to us.

We’ve got paper corners, cardboard corners, metal corners, futon corners. We’ve got black corners, yellow corners, blue corners, multi-coloured corners. We’ve got corners for your house, corners for your work, even corners… for your corners!

Someone else may have invented the corner but here at Cornercopia we’ve mastered it.

Cornercopia, on the Bluecoat roundabout just south of Blackpool. You can’t miss us!

Fashion Guru

After the roaring success of my washing machine repair business, I have been on the lookout for another venture to dip my respective success toes in. I have been inundated with suggestions from fans as to what I can apply my brilliant effortless skills to but nothing seemed quite right. That is until I took a long hard look in the mirror.

“What do you see, Ian?” my subconscious murmured. “What do all your various pairs of eyes see / view / peer etc?”

What I saw that day, I cannot utter again. That image is for m-me and m-me alone. What all you need to know is that I made the grand decision that I would become a fashion guru. I know clothes, and I know people, so it was inevitable that the two would eventually meet. There are a lot of people out there who don’t know how to dress. Why can’t they do it? How hard is it to put clothes on in the morning? Luckily for me though, without these chumble buckets I wouldn’t be in a job.

Using all my knowledge of people and clothes, I will be establish the empire of the 21st century. There will be those who will doubt my prowess and I am more than ready to take on their comments and their egos. There will be those who will make fun of my previous professional career turns, and I can tell you now I am nor will I ever be ashamed of where I came from. Those washing machines were mended with all the love, care and attention I will now be pushing into, erm, denim jackets.

I will be opening up my fashion shop cum studio cum money-spinning franchise in the fashionable area of Benwell, Newcastle upon Tyne. When I reach my first cool hundred mil, which no doubt will be before the end of the year, I will set my sights on the next great style capital of the world; Middlesbrough!

If you need me, make an appointment with my PA.

Pouring
Beans

Author: Ian “Air Travel Regulations” McIver