Avatar Dear Beans… But Is It A Good Invention?

Dear Beans,

I have been facing a big question for some time now, or at least what I consider to be a big question. It’s been playing at the back of mind on an extended loop for as long as I can remember and even after a long day of whistle pops and candy whistles I lie in bed at night, eyes wide open, pondering how to answer my own query.

In an attempt to bring the matter to a close I asked an endless supply of friends, close friends, family friends, work colleagues and hermits the same thing. The results were inconclusive as far as I’m concerned so I now turn to you in this, my darkest hour.

Is it… is it a good invention?

Why should I feel the need to question myself now? I’ve been an inventor for the best part of twenty years and it is only now that something is so amiss that I cannot decide if it is or is not.

The invention in particular is something I’ve been tinkering with for a couple of months and only recently put into practise. It’s a new style of shoe that is somewhere between the relaxed yet trendy Converse Hi Tops and the relaxed yet trendy debonair of the classic Vans. If you really had to boil it down to the most basic of ideas, however, I would have to describe it as having glued some Quavers to the sides of my trainers.

As you can tell, they’re very understated yet ostentatious. At first I was convinced they were magic but now… there is a rumbling in my gut which isn’t the pork vestibules I had for lunch. Then it made me think that possibly my other recent inventions also weren’t good enough either.

Perhaps nobody needs a pocket antelope.
Perhaps the world isn’t quite ready for the under-trunk over-pants.
Maybe odour eater foot injections are ahead of their time.

What do you think? Is it or are they good inventions?

Yours fluently


14 comments on “Dear Beans… But Is It A Good Invention?

  • Dear HAMM,

    I think your problem stems from eating too many whistling foodstuffs. Try something quieter, like a cheesy whisper or a nice hot bowl of leek muttering.

    Yours flimsily


  • I once helped myself to a steaming bowl of hot prayers. They tasted good. REAL good.

  • Yeah, I sometimes indulge in one of those. The trouble is that while they bring you eternal salvation, I still never feel full afterwards. Maybe I should have them with croutons.

  • I used to have the same problem. It’s worse when you’re having to share as there’s even less to go round.

    My advice would be to have the hot prayers as a starter and follow up with some electric tadpoles.

  • They slip down a treat. You’ve created a very tempting menu right there.

    I think I would have to say that, having dined handsomely upon hot prayers, electric tadpoles and a dessert of chocolatey hums, I am experiencing crippling indigestion and therefore can’t tell you whether or not your Quavery trainers are a good invention or not.

  • I haven’t tried any chocolate hums. They sound delicious. Perhaps we should join forces and release one of them celebrity cook books. You know, where people who are famous and don’t have any qualifications to cook but decide that they should tell everyone else how to do it. One of them.

  • I’m so good at (not) cooking that I think I’ve got at least several thousand photos of me (not) cooking to hand. Just say the word and I’ll send them to my publisher.

    I think we should have a dessert section full of photos of you enjoying yourself in Crystal Palace park.

  • I’d like that. We could put a caption under each of them that just says “cake” or “meringue” or something.

  • Why haven’t we done this before? This idea is gold. No, it’s better than gold. It’s platinum diamond.

    But what would we call it? I need title ideas.

  • Excellent. We can abbreviate it to ‘TAK’ or possibly ‘TAK:NCCB’ if we’re feeling fruity.

    I’m going to stitch an apron that will not feature in any of the photos in the book to commemorate this momentous event.

  • Wait. If none of the pictures are going to make any sense then the title shouldn’t either.

    If we call it Time Away From The Kitchen: A Non-Culinary Cookbook, then we can abbreviate it to TAFT KANCC. Then we just name the book Taft Kancc without any further explanation.

  • You mean like a certain gleaming, lustrous species of dog on a certain someone’s amazing album?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Optionally upload an image to accompany your comment (JPG only)