Oh yeah… Me.
I opened the Character Hatch, I wanted to find the bell tower. How much harm could it do? It’ll be fine. Right?
Carrying on my trend for utilising other people’s work in my own posts (Chris, clearly you’re next), as promised here is the second song in a collection which is steadily showing improvement in both tone, texture and content. The rhymes, though simple, display a mature approach to song-writing. The universal themes everyone can identify with. It is a cornucopia of marvels, a stimulating ensconcing whirlpool of wonder, a haven for intellectual satisfaction on a grand scale.
Presented in its original form, sup deep from the cup of lyrical nourishment:
Jumped of a Train
Chourus – I jumped of a train. I ended in the rain and I was fuLL of pain.
Yestersterday I got mugged by an eel,
It wasent a fair deal
I didn’t have a meal
— Chourus —
On my birthday, all I ate was hay,
A Horse came along but he didn’t singe me a song
But he did a big pong
— Chourus —
So I jumped of a train x 4
My life’s such a pain.
I only wish the Beatles could have written something as timeless as this.
I wrote a thing for a blog site that gets even more people visiting and posting comments than The Beans, if you can believe such a thing.
You can read it by clicking on these words, or these words, or this letter Q, but not these words, or this asterisk: *
This post is not just blatantly self-promoting and aggrandizing, but also rather lazily adding to my Bean Count for this month on a day where I clearly couldn’t think of anything better to post.
Now go! Go and bask in my reflected glory! Go and revel in the euphoria and majesty that is me!
There’s not a person alive who doesn’t like Trevor Eve. I mean what is there not to like? He’s been in everything from ‘Murder She Wrote’ to ‘Waking the Dead’ to ‘Ivana Trump’s For Love Alone’ (I must admit that the last one has escaped my attention but Amazon seem to have an alarming number of copies in stock). What does the world need? It needs a game that incorporates the best elements of Trevor Eve. It needs the “That’s Not Trevor Eve” game.
Players
2 to 4
Equipment
A television
A program with Trevor Eve in
Shots (optional)
What To Do
Turn the television on and switch to the channel that the program with Trevor Eve in is on. You must ensure that it is a program that doesn’t just have Trevor Eve, such as his one man stage production of Eve: A Trevor Eve Musical. That won’t work. Whenever someone who isn’t Trevor Eve comes on the screen you must shout, “That’s not Trevor Eve!” as loud as possible. Whenever Trevor Eve comes on the screen you must shout, “That’s Trevor Eve!” at the top of your voice. You may also take a shot after every acknowledgement of Trevor Eve providing you have previously uttered the aforementioned notification.
The game ends when the program ends and Trevor Eve no longer has a chance of popping up on the television. The person who has noticed Trevor Eve the most wins.
I love blurry photos. For some reason they really resonate with me and even though you may have spent ages keeping your hand steady to get that perfect shot only for it to look as though my eyes have photographed it for you (my sight is really bad…) it still makes me titter like a dormouse.
Yesterday Siobhan and I drove 175 odd miles to Manchester to watch My Morning Jacket. I took a handful of snaps of the gig but this in particular is my absolute favourite:
It made getting back at 2:40am all the better for knowing I had this photo saved in my phone and in my heart.
It’ll never be on the front of a Hallmark card, which is for the best really… you’d feel fairly unappreciated if you received a birthday card with this on the front.
It seems as though most of my posts this month have merely been transcribed moments of wonder from other people, and who am I to change the habit of a lifetime? Besides I’m too busy writing new songs for the Papples, or scratching myself using pointy kitchen utensils, to actually come up with anything myself. I might toss off a photo or something just to make up the numbers.
Anyway, onwards and upwards. I stumbled across this the other day. It is a song written by Reuben presumably just after waking up because not a lot of it makes sense, but these are the things that will be framed and handed out to his friends when he reaches some embarrassing age yet to be determined by me and a case of Jack Daniels.
There isn’t any music so you’ll have to imagine the tune yourself. I’ve copied it word for word, including spelling and grammatical errors. I think it’s much better this way:
I Sang To The Kitty
I sang to the kitty and, He trumped in my face.
So I ran to the kitchen and he followed my trace.
I gave the kitty pie’s and he trumped in my eye’s.
So listen hear Child, most cats are realy quite mild.
So listen hear Child, most cats are realy quite mild.
What I most love about it is that he is trying to educate his peers like he is a wise man or some sort of Shamen; you must watch out for felines farting, it’s a common concern about the pre-teens. In fact I shall be launching a poster campaign along those lines within the coming weeks.
Coming soon: another song I found with a spectacular misspelling of the word ‘yesterday’.
It’s with great joy that I can now announce the unveiling of a statue to commemorate my life’s work and achievements. It has been carved from stone and then coloured exquisitely by a team of master craftsmen from Madame Tussaud’s in order to create a lifelike rendering of my own handsome and stylish body.
Please feel free to use the comments thread below this post to discuss all the wonderful things I have done and the many reasons you admire me.
Ah, wisdom. Not everyone has it and those that do have it more often than not will refuse to share it. Not so Big Dave. Why, if wisdom was a pie he would be handing out slices every minute of the day. It would have to be an infinite or infinity pie to accommodate such a large selection of knowledge.
Having spent approximately four days in the Lake District with him last week I think it’s fair to say that I am currently the best placed person to pass on the wisdom to the rest of the world. Strap yourself in because your life will change dramatically as a result of reading the rest of this post:
(on trying to teach Reuben how to whistle) “Just imagine you’re kissing a girl with a very small mouth.”
“The pigeons are spooning! Spooning I say!”
“I’m itching… because I’m cold…”
“It’s a book about a man being a seagull… I think…”
“No, I don’t watch Brookside. It doesn’t appeal to me.”
It’s fair to say that Quack-dad, as he is sometimes known, has enriched our lives so much that things will never be the same again.
The fact that he tried to feed us mince for every meal should also go on record.