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Consider me!
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What do you do when you have a habit of keeping almost every scrap of paper that either someone wrote something on or drew a silly picture on? Eventually you have no choice but to sift through that paper and determine what stays and what goes.
As a parent, I was duty bound to keep a lot of Reuben’s pictures. Some were merely because they were cute and reminded me of simpler times, others were because they were downright weird and prompted referring to a psychiatrist for confirmation as to whether it was time to call the men in white coats. Shame you can’t call it a looney bin anymore because it’s not politically correct. It’s not a real bin full of loonies, how would anyone ever confuse a large building full of crazy people with a bin? Silly. I suppose looney building doesn’t have the same ring to it. “I’m going to put you in a looney office,”
Mixed in with some frightening scribbles of monsters ripping people in two and an invention of mine called the ‘Scuba Umbrella’, I found some hand-written lyrics for two of the Papples most played / most requested / best loved songs of all times: ‘Mincey Beef’ and ‘(Do it)’, the latter of which is a lot harder to type at 11pm at night.
Does it offer an insight into the collective minds at work? Does it share the rare genius hammering out the hits during a prolific time in their career? Not really. The top left-hand corner reveals what I think I was trying to crowbar into the song: mince, beef (obviously), nen tosh, Shergar (?), Aberdeen angus and no neddy beef. The rest is pretty much the lyrics of the song verbatim with the odd tweak here and there, no doubt as a result of hours of sweat and toil in the recording studio working out the best arrangement.
Let us not forget the immortal words: “Beef is back, meat attack.”
‘(Do it)’ is less interesting because there was only two strips of lyrics and nothing on the back. These were probably used as the starting blocks of the songs because they were transferred to somewhere more permanent, a larger piece of paper or a notebook, or maybe even a word document. It’s hard to remember the long ago times as we all know.
I expect you’ve seen it by now, but my article was finally published in today’s Guardian.
As you know, I’m a coach supporting talented, underprivileged young players – and it’s no surprise so few of them make it to Wimbledon. But you’ll know that because I talk about it a lot.
Anyway, it would be great if you could read my article and let me know what you think. I spent ages on it.
I am now 40. That’s fine. The joke is that everyone has a mid life crisis when they reach 40, that it means you’re “over the hill” and all that. I think 30 bothered me way more than 40 did. What I can’t deny, though, is that I am noticing the effects of getting that little bit older.
Here are 40 things about being 40 that weren’t the case when I was 30.
Unchanged since I was 30:
(A cynical young man sits at a table judging, that’s you (Kevin), and two men walk past).
Chris: Look at that cynical young man there.
Ian: What’s he doing?
(Intense close-up of your (Kevin’s) face)
Chris: He’s judging fruit because even though it carries qualities that can assist with a sexy, varied diet, too much can still mess with your face podge.
Ian: Oh, THAT!
Chris: STOP JUDGING FRUIT, INFANT!
Kev: Leave me alone, let me judge in peace.
Ian: But don’t you realise that fruit doesn’t mean you any harm? It doesn’t have a hidden agenda.
Chris: It’s not out to get you.
Kev: I don’t care! Not enough people *cannot read what the bottom line says due to bad photocopying*
Ian: Look at the beauty of that lemon! It’s perfectly cylindrical, it’s smoothness, it’s balance of danger and sweetness. Doesn’t it make you want to…
Kev: CRY? No. NEVER!
Chris: Surely it must, sir. You are no golem.
Kev: No. I never cry.
(Shock horror: SEVERE GASP)
Ian: He doesn’t cry.
Chris: This imbalance will be bad, awful, awful bad.
Ian: Care to explain with the use of this delicate pulley system?
Chris: No. Follow me.
(Ian and Chris walk offscreen to a white board)
*Presumably Chris is talking* Man. Man doesn’t want to cry but he does. He has to or this happens.
(An explosion goes off)
Ian: What was that?
Chris: That’s what happens when you try to fuck with nature.
Ian: Oooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Chris: To put it like this, if man does not cry, the emotional chumblies vibrate and vibrate. If liquid is not spilt then they catch fire and the whole body explodes.
Ian: Science is mean!
Chris: It sure is, Timmy.
Ian: It’s Ian.
Chris: Okay.
(Back to Kevin) (?)
Ian: So this man needs to cry.
Chris: Exactly.
Ian: So how do we do that?
Chris: If science can cause a perfectly healthy individual to explode then science can also be harnessed for good.
Ian: Holy pickles!
Chris: What we need is…
(Quick shots: plunger, onions, copy of the film ‘Steel Magnolias’)
Then all we need to do is…
(Chris plungers the side of Kev’s head, then he rubs onions into his eyes, lastly he shows him a copy of ‘Steel Magnolias’ on the telly)
Ian: It sounds easy.
Chris: It’s already done (close up of Chris) Romeo Dunne.
(The cynical man is sat crying at his table)
Chris: Oh dear.
Ian: What’s wrong with him?
Chris: It appears as though the science was too much for him. He’s been turned into a jibbering idiot.
Ian: Is that why he’s sat crying over some knives?
Kev: (between sobs) They just… don’t get the same respect… as forks. It’s so upsetting.
Chris: We may need to think about this some more. He’s gone from one extreme to the other. I expect if you hold anything up in front of him he’ll cry even harder.
(Ian holds up a yo-yo, Kev weeps harder)
Ian You were right.
Chris: We need MORE SCIENCE!
(Quick shots: plunger, iron pipes, a copy of ‘Universal Solider’)
Chris plungers back tough back (?) into Kevin’s head, sticks the pipes down his back).
Chris: Not too much ‘Universal Solider’, Timmy, we don’t want him as cynical as he was before.
Ian: Ten four.
(Kev sits at a table)
Ian: How do you feel?
Kev: I’m not sure. I’m a little teary (pulls a face) but I’m also extremely pissed off at this Kinder Egg. The toy on it is crap.
Ian: Is that a result?
Chris: I guess it’ll have to do!
(Both Ian and Chris freeze in mid-hearty chuckle. Kev falls off his chair)
EPILOGUE
Chris: Crying is perfectly natural. Everyone does it, even pigeons and wolverines. They don’t do it in public but hidden behind those bushes and up on those high buildings they are bawling like bitches.
Ian: Here’s a tip, cry into a towel. It muffles the noise and catches the excess, thus removing the need for tissues.
Chris: Thank you, Timmy.
Ian: How often do you cry, sir?
(close-up of Chris’ face)
Chris: TWICE A DAY. THAT’S WHAT I SAY!
END!
Devastating news for Chris Crimz aka Chris Marshall solo fans as artist claims he is still no closer to finishing his epic trilogy of songs.
Crimz rose to fame with the now stone cold classic ‘Wasting your life!” which was written prior to but only saw a formal release through the Papples debut album of the same name. He then cemented the popular but not quite as good, ‘That’s your life!’ which despite constant demands from the fans is still waiting for a formal release. Tapes of the demo have been trading hands for astronomical amounts of money on Ebay, sometimes reaching up to ten whole English pounds. There was a recent bidding war between two diehard fans, Polin Clodbrook and Rolio Chaffinch, for a very rare tape which, if the rumours are to be true, claimed to be a duet between Crimz and Kelly Clarkson during their short-lived romance at the tail end of 2009.
Newsboost reached out to Mr Marshall for an exclusive interview and eventually, once he stopped repeatedly slamming the door into my foot, we were granted one.
“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” said Crimz, partially through a crack in the door between his dining room and kitchen, “I seem to remember I once attempted a third part but it wasn’t very successful. The lesson is that you can’t rush genius.”
When asked what the composition was like and what kind of arrangement it was (joyous possibly or further leaning into the sad melody of the second part), Mr. Marshall changed the subject to a future release in 2024. “I’ll be putting out another greatest hits album shortly. I want the fans to know that I am listening and that I do care. It’ll be jam-packed with exclusive b-sides, live tracks and the odd Pet Shop Boys remix. Guaranteed to put a smile on their faces. The CD edition will come in a gold coloured cardboard sleeve with a commemorative booklet. A premium product.”
That sounds like something we can all enjoy. At least if the epic closer of his musical journey isn’t coming any time soon then we’ll all have a piece of the pie to chew on. You really can’t rush genius.
After only 9 months since the last episode, and because Ian made me feel bad for that fact, here comes episode 33!
I’ve dredged out from the lockdown archives this gem, where we discuss:
An explanation is required. The temporary absence of Chris and the baffling disappearance of Kevin Hill (soon to be a hit West End musical) meant that up until recently I was facing the prospect of looking after the website on my own. Thankfully that didn’t end up being the case because with this much on the line (on the line!) there was a chance that 2007 Ian would come back from the pressure and nobody wants that. I was going to feed a bunch of Chris articles into AI and let them generate something to help post outside of my usual nonsense. Only one was fully finished so I present it to you as an indication of what could have happened…
I was wandering work thinking about the right temperature and colour of doilies when I decided that I needed a project. I needed something to get me back on trackingtons after several weeks on nightshifts with Lionel Ritchie. It was no use, nothing came to mind so I returned to France to ponder my future.
Then it hit me; build a wasp art gallery! Everyone loves bees and they’re coming back big like a big elephant so why not help the little guys and build a gallery? Bad press for wasps can only mean bad press for everyone. This was my greatest idea and I loved it so much I spent all night drinking tea and wondering why nobody had thought of it sooner. In the morning when the moon was dead Kate brought me some biscuits and I tossed them out the window at nobody (it’s a private joke we both have). I drove over to the roads museum and looked at maps with my eyes. I adore maps and roads and how they bring me joy. Their joy inspired me to draft a huge blueprint of my precious art gallery. I included bathrooms because (wheeeeeeey!) everyone needs to go at some point, even Wontons and Mike.
It was structurally sound after ten minutes. Not a boaster, never boastingtons ever, but look at me and how I work! Hard work too, the likes of which world push past IT BBC logical dreams are made of. Look, you don’t need to be me and don’t have jealous because my tools made something happen. I called up Gary Wilmot (who?) for some advice and he threw it at me like a puffin going after a kelp. Monstrous.
It only took seven years but I am proud of my efforts. Now the wasps can view the world in a different light and give them culture where it never was before. They can see tiny Cezanne and Van Gogh and other wonderful works of art. Will they stop stinging everyone? Probably not because give and take in the world of nature. I’ve given something back and they will appreciate me for doing so.