Slut-Dropping in the USA

I am the master of the slut drop.

This is not one of those X Factor “I can sing and I’m going to show the world just how good I am only to fail miserably as it turns out I’m not very good at singing in the slightest and I’ve just shown sixty million people how stupid I am” moments. This is one of those “I am so good” moments.

For those who are not in the know, a slut drop, as defined by the urban dictionary, is, “a move in “dirty dancing” involving standing with legs bending the knees, squatting until the buttocks almost reach the floor and standing back up with a body roll.” I have unwittingly been doing this most of my modern life and it wasn’t until recently that I learned that it was an actual thing with an actual name. It’s a little like Stop, Drop and Roll but with less roll.

Having conquered the world of fixing washing machines (erm…), it was only a matter of time before I moved on to the next thing. It had occurred to me that the list of things I am excellent at is so vast I wasn’t sure how I was going to narrow it down. Whatever I needed to do to work it out, it was certainly going to be an all-nighter. And just so you know, it’s very difficult being this accomplished because it opens you up to an awful lot of criticism and jealousy.

So, what does one do when one possesses talents such as these? Sit on them and hope to get famous anyway? Hide in a cupboard? No. I have to take this out on the road and head direct to the heart of the action. The World Slut Drop Championships are held in Kansas City, Missouri each year. Without a shadow of a doubt I am convinced that I can win it. So, with the financial help of the beans massive, I will be flying out in the next couple of weeks to face the creme de la creme of the slut-dropping community.

Can I beat Sophie ‘Um Chuka Chuka’ Candice? Will I be able to defeat the two times winner Bish Bush Cacklewonker? Will I have the strength to take on the Qwindle Twins?

With your money in my pocket, I’m sure I will.

Smidge-tastic Advert Break

After last year’s expedition to Finland, in order to drum up some of our European cousin’s interest in the Beans, I decided that a further visit should be arranged in order to follow up some of the key points of interest. Indeed, some might say it was quite reckless of me to fly out to somewhere I had never been before, without any financial contribution from the kitty, with barely enough coppers to rub together to warm a vole’s index finger with, and so on. To those some what I offer is a non-sensical response, scatted with expletives and a rude drawing done on the back of a napkin.

Anyway, the main point of this was to explain my most recent discovery.

It seems as though our exports are doing much better than we believed them to be. Even though they are quite clearly blatant knock-offs, Smidge Manly has been seen promoting and advertising a wide variety of different items and services. His face has been adorned plugs for veterinary clinics, hedgehog windmills, fussy hooting clocks and even plugs. His viso/volto can be seen cheering on cyclists at the Toot De La Monge in July, handing out beef jerky to tourists by the Fleecox Bantymudge and even yelling for encores at the most recent Scanty Fox Cubs tour dates.

This has been my favourite so far:

Not only are these posters on most of the abandoned buildings in Ivalo in Finland’s town centre but some people have taken to stealing the unblemished copies, framing them and proudly displaying them in their living rooms. An unmitigated honour you’ll no doubt agree. The company even hired a sound-a-like for rolling radio adverts, mostly in broken English, to be wielded about the general public’s ears for the best part of the working week.

If this carries on, who knows? The real Smidge Manly may even be asked to advertise actual real life living things. He could become a local celebrity and have his own midnight questions and answers show. He may even get his certified gold double LP ‘Double Bugger: A Selection of Manly’s Musical Mutterings’ covers album into the European charts.

The word on the street is ‘pumpernickel’.

New flat

If you’ve been tapping my phone calls or you have psychic powers, you’ll already be aware that Elena and I have now concluded our search for a new home, a process that scoured the whole of south-east England and involved evicting a large number of people whose homes we thought we liked but then – tragically for those involved – decided weren’t quite right.

The Beans must, naturally, get the exclusive scoop on our new lodgings, so this post is here to present all the key details. Unfortunately no photographs of the dwelling are available at this time, but I am able to present the floor plan, as drawn up by the estate agent.

Floorplan

The main things we were looking for were space, lots of natural light, easy access to a station, and sufficient bathroom facilities. On the last point we had already ruled out apartments with just one bathroom on the grounds that, if we both needed a wee at the same time, it might start an argument. We then wondered what would happen if we had a dinner party and everyone wanted a wee at the same time – clearly some sort of ugly fracas or kerfuffle would ensue.

We were, therefore, delighted to find a home that anticipated this requirement – and, thanks to extremely innovative placement of its toilet facilities, it also has the advantage that during a dinner party everyone could simultaneously micturate without leaving the room and therefore without needing to interrupt the flow of the conversation. And of course, when there’s only the two of us, we can more or less go to the toilet wherever we are without having to move.

We look forward to welcoming you to our new home once we’ve moved in. Please bring your own toilet roll.

29 Cats

29 Cats
Were sitting in a tree
Spread out on the branches
Drinking cups of tea

One little cat
Had enough to drink
Climbed up to the top
And had a little think

That little cat
Decided he should wee
But was very lazy
So did it in the tree

28 other cats
Sat lower in the tree
Now all wet and pissy
Decided they should flee

One lonely cat
Relieved but now alone
Sat atop his lonely tree
Reading Twitter on his phone

The Face Update: My Face

After an overwhelming number of requests, it was only fair that I provide an update about my face so everyone can stop pondering their ponders and querying their queries. If you have seen my face recently you may be a little shocked as to the present state and condition of it, so I would respectfully and humbly ask that all of you take a seat before reading the rest of this post.

The Face

As you can see, the majority of my face is now just a nose. This nose takes up approximately 80% of what used to be my face. Can you even still call it a face when most of it is a nose? Nobody knows. All I know is that things have become a lot more nasal as a result of this.

The Nose

The nose continues to grow at an exponential rate. Scientists predict that within three weeks I will have lost my face altogether. It will cease to exist and only one massive, humongous nose, attached to a pair of arms and legs, will walk around pretending to be me. I will resemble Chris the Cheese but instead of a large block of cheese I will resemble a huge conk, and small school children will haphazardly wander into and up my nasal cavity in the hope of finding their lost kites and skateboards.

The Eye

In addition to this, another shocking revelation is that one of my eyes has been replaced by a BBC news presenter in the middle of reporting an interesting piece about China. This article repeats every seven minutes and whilst it has become a repetitive and somewhat annoying inclusion, it is very informative and has won several awards. Seeing through it is no longer an option; I have taken to wearing an eye patch, much like pop chanteuse Gabrielle, to cover my iron shame.

Conclusion

… I should probably go see a doctor.

Testing…testing… 123

Hello? Hello?

Can you hear me at the back? If you can, then we have successfully transferred over to the new magical computers.

Things do seem to be a lot faster around here so I can only assume that the computers were very pleased with the ceremony I conducted on Saturday evening.

I couldn’t get any of the magical computer banks shown in the first post, but by way of apology we now have a full room of these pumping things out instead.

I hope this is still worth £15.

New Job Celebration

About a month ago Elena got a new job and, as you may remember, we decided we should celebrate it here on the Beans. Unfortunately, due to the hectic posting schedule we work with, and the huge backlog of important information that must be posted to the site, we have only just found time to fit it in.

So here we are with our celebration of Elena’s new job. Let’s get some facts from The Fact Penguin.

Behold The Fact Penguin

We asked The Fact Penguin these questions and it offered the following entirely factual answers.

What is the new job?
The new job is unstupiding children. Children are idiots.
Where is the new job?
The new job is near Orpington, which is a place that evidently has a problem with stupid children that needs to be addressed.
How much money will Elena earn?
Elena has signed a contract that guarantees her a weekly income of at least eight (8) London pounds, which at current exchange rates is equivalent to approximately ninety seven thousand Newcastle pounds.

After answering these questions The Fact Penguin indicated that we had reached the limit of questions for today, as specified in his contract, and decided to go for a swim. Please do not ask The Fact Penguin any further questions.

Champagne and low-cost nibbles will be served in the Banqueting Hall from 6 this evening. (The Banqueting Hall can be found at the far end of the lower ground floor picture gallery from the “Things” page of the website.) Please wear black tie so that The Fact Penguin does not feel overdressed.

Appeasing the magical computers

Right, lets just get all the “Oh look Kev’s back” crap out of the way upfront… I haven’t been here. I know.

I’ve got a 3 month old boy, a tired (lunatic) wife and myself to look after. As I’m sure Ian can testify, this is hard work. Nobody gets enough sleep, everyone is cranky and there are very few spare minutes in a week let alone a day.

It’s lovely, wonderful and bloody hard work. Anyway…

This wonderful little commune of excellence we have going doesn’t happen for free. The magical computers that carry the bits, bytes and sandwiches of data backwards and forwards have to be periodically fed cash money else they get angry and stop.

The magical computers we have used for the last few years have gotten greedy, wanting more and more cash money whilst simultaneously getting fat and a bit slow. The ceremonial feeding is due very soon and I’d like to try moving to a new group of magical computers, which both eat less money and claim to be faster at carrying sandwiches.

I’m plan to appease the new computers with a feed so large it will last for 2 whole years, but to do so I need your helps.

If you want the Beans™ to continue, I’d like you (Chris and Ian) to agree to hand over £15 each so that the ceremony can be performed. I have appeased the current computers with a light snack which will see us through another month, but I’d like to get moving on this pretty sharpish. Let me know your thoughts…