Category: Conspiracy/Not a Conspiracy

Avatar Decode this…

What the hell is going on here? On returning to the scout hut after Christmas, we discovered this pictographic story on one of our white boards. What is it saying, and more importantly, what does it mean?

Theories so far range from vampire attack to complex honeytrap operations, but what do you think?

Avatar Do not remove

This sign at work has not been successful in its aims.

Presumably, at some point, another bin will be provided by whoever considers it vitally important that this little-used basement corridor always has a bin available at this precise location. When that happens I suggest they adopt one, some or all of the following suggestions for improved security:

  • Add “on pain of death” to the end of the sign
  • Add a nice positive thumbs up symbol to the sign
  • Have a speaker playing the sign’s message out loud on a loop in case the bin was taken by a blind person
  • Keep the existing wording and layout of the sign, but enlarge it so that it covers the entire wall
  • Use plainer language that low-life thieves will understand, like “get your stinking hands off my bin, you pilfering shitbags”
  • Make multiple versions of the sign and use them to plaster the bin to the wall like papier-mâché
  • Apply camouflage netting to the bin, thus rendering it invisible
  • Put another more desirable bin next to the bin as bait

Avatar Where are the Marcus Rashfords of British tennis? The truth is they’re still not welcome

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.

Avatar Owl threats

Earlier this year, I had a go at learning a new language on one of those language apps. It wasn’t very successful and started to feel like a bit of a chore, which isn’t the point, so I gave up after a few months.

I still have an account, though, and this particular app isn’t keen on letting you go. I occasionally still get a jolly email from them asking whether I’m going to come back. I don’t mind that. I do my thing and they do theirs, and everyone’s happy. Things are OK.

Until now.

Suddenly it’s not OK. Now the little cartoon owl is angry.

The message just gets worse from there. “Keep Duo happy, do your lessons” it says. Then it tells you an ominous parable about your feckless ways: “Every year, learners say they’ll learn a new language and Duo gets excited. Then they almost forgot their lessons, and Duo gets sad. That won’t happen this year, right?“

Then there’s some other distracting guff, before it finishes with an outright threat. “I’m going to make you do your lessons… by any means necessary. No one wants to see Duo when he gets upset. A few minutes of daily practice can keep Duo smiling in 2024. And a happy Duo means a safe and happy you.”

Screw you, Duo. I’ve unsubscribed.

Avatar Heist movie

Right, lads. Thanks for gathering here in the seedy basement criminal headquarters round the back of the seedy basement criminal billiards hall. Grab a cocktail stick to chew. I’ve spread out a blueprint on the table so gather round and have a look.

As you all know, this is the big one, the heist of the year. We’re going to lift four million nicker in used five pence coins from the Coinstar machine by the tills in Morrisons.

First off, we all need code names. Kevil, you’re Mr Blancmange. Ian, we’ll call you Mr Trifle. I’ll be going by the name Mr Bread and Butter Pudding. No arguing now, those are the names, if you don’t like it you can walk out the door and miss out on the biggest haul of loose change this country has ever seen. Alright? Good. We’re all in.

Here’s the plan. Meet round the side of the Morrisons petrol station at 3.15. Mr Trifle and Mr Blancmange will be at the air machine feigning an argument about the correct tyre pressure for the rear wheels of a heavily loaded Dacia Sandero in cold weather. I’ll be in the shop buying a bag of Jelly Tots. If I come out and show you a car wash ticket for a number four programme with hot wax, the game is on.

At that point we all get into the Sandero sharpish. Mr Blancmange will drive. Mr Trifle will jump in the boot so the car doesn’t look too full. I’ll sit in the passenger seat and crack open the Jelly Tots. Then we swing it round to the front of Morrisons and ditch the wheels in a parent and child bay. They’ve got extra room for the doors to open and they’re right by the entrance. I don’t care if we get a ticket.

From there we make it to the Coinstar machine under cover of a montage. Mr Trifle will play in some lively montage music on a bluetooth speaker. Then we get indoors in five montage clips.

  • One, Mr Blancmange slides the stack of shopping baskets in the way of the automatic doors to wedge them open.
  • Two, Mr Trifle grabs us three copies of the free monthly Morrisons recipe magazine to hide our faces by pretending to read them.
  • Three, I’ll offer the security guard some Jelly Tots so he’s not looking at the CCTV.
  • Four, Mr Blancmange grabs a 10p plastic bag from the self checkouts and covers up the camera.
  • And five, Mr Trifle humorously pauses by the display of flowers to pull a rose from a bouquet and tuck it into the buttonhole on his suit jacket.

When we get to the Coinstar machine we have sixty seconds to get it away before the checkout supervisor sees what we’re up to and raises the alarm. Mr Blancmange and I will lift the floor panel next to it, revealing a manhole down to the drains. Mr Trifle will then announce that he’s “got this” and we will leave it to him to push the machine into the hole.

When that’s done we jump down after it and ride it away through the sewers like a big cash-filled surfboard. The current will tip us out at the riverside where we can get a number 65 bus back here to the lair.

Any questions? No? Good. In that case, you put your suits on and I’ll get the Sandero out of the lock up. Everyone synchronise watches. See you outside in five.