New slippers

Before I was about 22, I never wore slippers at all. Our house was a socks house. You took your shoes off and then you just went around in your socks until it was time to put your shoes back on and go outside somewhere. Just one pair of socks, though, not two at once. We weren’t savages.

But my student house was cold, and my housemates all wore slippers, and eventually the peer pressure got to me. On a trip to Next at the Trafford Centre I gave in and bought myself some suede slippers with a very jaunty orange liner. They were amazing, and I was an immediate convert. Now I’m a slipper person.

Since then I’ve spent many years working my way through successive pairs of black suede-effect slippers from Debenhams, but they don’t make them any more, and Debenhams is on its way to the wheely bin of corporate catastrophe, so they aren’t coming back. So now I don’t just need new slippers, I need to choose a whole new slipper type. Nightmare.

I spent several weeks not doing anything about it, because whenever I looked I wouldn’t find anything I liked. But my hand has been forced by the very cold floors in the new house and I made an emergency purchase of some fairly cheap ones that have stripes on the inside, just to keep my feet warm.

You can probably guess the punchline. My stripey slipper snobbery was ill-founded. The new slippers are warm, snug and everything I require. There’s no looking back now. It’s these bad boys all the way.

Please do share your own slipper stories here, unless they’re about wearing two pairs of socks at once. Nobody wants that.

Eternal (not the pop group)

How will you be remembered? What will be your legacy?

What small nugget of nonsense will you leave the world so they know that you were once here, plugging away through all of life’s shambles like everyone else? Most people think it’s easy enough to pop out of a couple of kids and job done, right?

While my legacy is currently encroaching on my status as ‘tallest person in my family’ and ruffling through cupboards looking for chocolate cereal, there is another way that I will be “fondly” (?) remembered for years to come.

My nieces have all collectively lost their minds, which is nice when you think about it; they could have lost them one by one but they chose to do it all at the same time like sisters. together as a family. Adorable. I’m so proud of them. They then decided to write a song, which is clearly inspired by me, and John sent me a video of them performing it. The internet doesn’t deserve that but what I will do is show you the lyrics to this timeless masterpiece. It’s so poignant that if that rumoured Papples reunion ever happens they may have to croon a cover of it.

Now all I need is someone to paint my beautiful visage next to a newly-commissioned big-chinned, bollock-necked MaGee with the lyrics surrounding me in a halo of light and my voyage to immortality will be complete.

House

There will, I expect, be more posts from me on this subject in the near future, because it has become a very large part of my life. But for now, it is probably enough to say that getting yourself a house is an enormous process that takes up a lot of your time and energy, and has far reaching consequences for the whole of your life. It is difficult and tiring.

On the other hand, though, it’s one of the best things ever, and it has made us this happy.

Normal service will resume in February. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be trying to find something in a box that is under three other boxes at the back of a room full of boxes.

2021 State of the Beans Address

Hello, and to a certain extent, welcome. Thank you for coming. My name is The Honourable Sergeant-Major Professor Lord Sir Elbert Louche, KBE, and it is with great pleasure and moderate smugness that I return again this year to deliver the annual State of the Beans Address.

It is a very different address this year, of course. For social distancing reasons, I am speaking to you from the top of the ornate clock tower that adorns the Beans, with my voice amplified using all the many shouters attached to the corners of the tower. And for you, the audience, this is a drive-in event. I must ask you to please remain within your cars, and choose between either opening your windows slightly for ventilation, or breathing. You cannot do both.

Time for a Shakedown

Lending a Paw

If you’re going to do something nice you best do it standing like a titan.

After helping the doggos earlier on this year with my walk around my flat, which sounds about as strenuous as a trip to Waitrose, I have decided to further the cause and lend a paw to someone who needs my help.

This is Sunshine and he is a star in waiting.

For a blind breed of unknown origin, he has a whole lot of charisma at his disposal. Sunshine or “the Moose” as he has affectionately come to be known (nobody can remember who gave him the nickname although I am still adamant that it was me) claims to not be able to see out of either eye, a fact that still has not been proven. I have asked him several times and he refuses to answer the question.

With all this potential it seemed like a waste to let him hide in the shadows of obscurity so despite handing the task to Reuben over the summer holidays, the task of raising his social media profile has been passed to me. I have begun this with his own Twitter account for “hilarious” posts about doggo things and photos of him looking like a dog, something the internet goes CRAZY for I am reliably informed.

Comments such as, “you really need to get a girlfriend, Ian” and, “what are you doing with photos of my dog?” have been ignored because currently only I can see the greatness that has been under everyone’s noses.

I also feel obliged because, in a way, the Moose is my spirit animal in that he eats just as fast as I do and is forever looking for more things to eat. Who am I to ignore a fellow gluttonous brother? I have promised to myself not to let any of my horrendous toxic masculinity leak into his cheery disposition, nor any of the wonderful photos of his viso/volto. Trying to keep it under wraps has been very difficult especially with the sheer volume of packets of sugar that I keep downing all at the same time.

I gave him a swish Twitter handle and Twitter responded by giving us a pretty generic name. You can follow Sunshine at @TheMoos90645566 for all the moosing around you (that’s YOU) can handle.

‘Snakes and Lads’

You know what’s wrong with board games these days? They’re not tough enough. Whilst they are entertaining and enjoyable, informative and fun, maddening and frustrating at times there is nothing about them that gives the impression of tough.

Courtesy of my toxic masculinity, I have come with a new take on an existing idea that will blow all you soft willows out of the water and into the gutters. It will remove your eyes and replace them with hot coals of pain.

‘Snakes and Lads’ follows the same basic formula as its predecessor, ‘Snakes and Ladders’; you have a board with one hundred squares and the object is to get from the bottom to the top first.

You play as Tony, a right hard lad who whilst out drinking with his mates decides that they should place a little wager on who can get to the kebab shop first. His best mate, Tony, who has been sh*t-faced since 7pm is of course well up for this. His cousin, Tony, never says no to a bet and the same goes for Tony, Tony and his dad, Tony (I should mention that you don’t necessarily need six players in total but it does help).

So, as one of the Tonys, you wander through the streets trying to get to the kebab shop. If you land on a snake, you strangle it like the piece of savage meat you are. This however does mean that the time you spend boshing that sod into the next week causes you to fall behind and you go back down to the corresponding square below. If you land on a lad, you go right in for a fight with that sucker. You roll the dice and if you get an even number, you smash ‘im down. If you happen to roll an odd number he gets in a cheeky punch and you stay where you are.

The first to reach ‘The Quilted Slosh’ gets to call all the other players whoopsies and collects a tenner from each of them.

Extra points for those who sit on a steak whilst playing and eat a whole bag of sugar all at the same time.

I have never been more convinced of my genius until this idea.

Scommuting

So, all the rules change. Your carefully ordered plan no longer works. You must adapt. You must find a new way. What do you do?

In my case, the rules meant that a half-hour walk had to be inserted into my commute to work. So I adapted in the only way I knew how, the only way that made sense to me.

I bought a scooter. I’m a scooter commuter!

Now, my life is brilliant (see picture). The drudgery of a 30 minute walk twice a day has been turned into a fun 15 minute scooting adventure.

If you have a problem, I suggest you buy a scooter. Doesn’t matter what the problem is. Just get a scooter. You won’t regret it.

Pouring
Beans

Category: Absolutely superb