Avatar One for the Doggos

I’m so lazy. Look at me and be uninspired. Just look at me, one big ol’ slobbery mess. I haven’t looked this bad since that stage in my teens when I was gelling up my fringe; a tidal wave of greasy hair fixed in place. God, what was I thinking? It was aggressively bad. Now is worse though. Since the lockdown all I have done is indulge in everything I can get my chubby paws on. I find myself daydreaming about desserts. You know in cartoons when hungry characters start hallucinating? Last week I looked over and where Reuben should have been was a roast ham. It is time for a change.

As Kevin has confessed that he has a soft spot for the doggos, I have done a thing and signed up for a sponsored walk. In May I will be raising money for guide dogs by walking up and down my flat. Yes, it sounds insane and I reckon that by the end of it I may have finally crossed the line, gone through the looking glass. Is it worth it for the doggos? Of course it is. I plan to walk 100,000 steps to get some much needed cashola / dough ray me / fresh bread for Guide Dogs. In order to keep it realistic, I have set a target of £100.00 which would be enough to buy a kit for one guide dog trainer.

It takes 52 steps to walk from the front door to the window in the living room and back again. Based on my poor grasp of maths, I will have to do this 1,924 times in order to accumulate the aforementioned total of 100,000 steps. I have a full week in order to pin down this sucker, which means if I can manage about 275 times each day that should be enough.

If I had Kevin’s legs, which we all know are thrice the length of a normal person’s legs, I would be able to get from front door to window in a handful of leaps. I believe that would make the process a lot more tiresome so I am grateful for my small leg span and smaller step count.

Nobody is rich at the moment. The world is in chaos. I say this sat wearing an Adventure Time hat to keep the hair out of my eyes (my fringe has seriously lost the plot, it needs a chop). Am I still in my pyjamas? What day is it again? The point is that if you can, please sponsor Chesty at the link below:

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/walkyoursocksoffindivduals1005

Remember: the doggos have noggos and without the training they cannot help the peopoggos.

Avatar Newsboostnight

Newsboost is going to be 11 years old this year. I watched it again recently and I’m still pretty pleased with it now, but back when we made it, it’s fair to say it was the crowning achievement of my life.

Obviously we wanted to do another one, and for a while there was a short-lived plan to follow up the news bulletin Newsboost with a late night current affairs programme called Newsboostnight.

It was going to be a special programme looking in depth at a scandal surrounding The Papples. This was when the only Papples album was “Masterpiece”, and we’d realised that all the songs on that album basically had the same tune.

Since there’s nothing in my life at the moment, and I have nothing much to write about, I thought I’d post the three pages of script that were written for Newsboostnight so you can enjoy them.

Read More: Newsboostnight »

Avatar Ode to the North

We’re all trapped indoors these days, since the prime minister lost everybody’s house keys and we all found that the front door wouldn’t open any more. I’m sure that’ll all be sorted out soon, of course, and I’ll be able to take the bins out, but for the time being I’m not getting around much and neither is anyone else.

While I’m being kept inside, like a neglected dog, I find myself missing the north. I usually go north regularly and now I can’t, and it’s only when I can’t go that I suddenly find how important it is to me to immerse myself, on a regular basis, in its rich culture and its even richer gravies.

So, as a consolation in these difficult times, I’ve created this moving ode to the north. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, and that your cockles are warmed.

Thank you, or as they say in the north, ta.

Avatar Dating Profile

Hello

It has been several years since I was last on a dating website so I am not sure if the same rules apply or if things are exactly the same. Let’s start with the basics:

  • I am definitely single. I check every single day and not once has there been someone lurking in my flat, claiming to be my girlfriend or significant other;
  • I have been single for a while. The last time I was in a relationship you could step outside without needing to fight a pensioner for bog rolls or drive to seven different types of Tesco, looking for any kind of pasta available;
  • I have two arms and two legs. My third leg I left outside to dry in the sun and someone took it. I do have a spare fist which I keep in kitchen cupboard; it’s quite handy.

What I am looking for in a girlfriend is nothing out of the ordinary, in fact you could even argue that my tastes are quite plain. I want nothing more than a ten out of ten (out of ten out of ten) stunner the likes of which would make my friends and anyone else who catches sight of her drop to their knees and weep with joy. She should have long, rich, chocolate hair that I can nibble on when snacks are scarce. The kind of car she has is fast; I get to use it whenever she’s away in her glamorous job of testing theme park rides. She is well-known and well-respected in her field so we can go on any rides we want whenever we want. Even if they’re already being used. I can prise whatever kid is in my seat on the Nemesis at Alton Towers, throw them to the ground and laugh at their misfortune without any consequences.

What can I give you in return? I own three pairs of shoes and you are welcome to borrow one of them whenever you want (one shoe, not a full pair). I can cook two different types of cuisine: jam and brown. I usually opt for the latter as there are much more options available to you. I have had several compliments from friends and family that I cook the best brown they have ever tasted. If you have a sweet tooth though I am more than happy to “jam” it up. Have you ever tried Jammy Bolognaise? Sit down and let me astound and amaze you, my candied lemon eyes.

My achievements include two swimming certificates (10m and 25m), runner up in the Cotswold Olimpicks shin-kicking contest 2013 and I once accidentally dropped a caber on Russ Abbott’s toe. We’re still firm friends to this day.

I look forward to meeting you all; I have already acquired a broom to keep you all at a safe distance. Gone are the days of beating women off with a cricket bat, it is no longer seen as a safe and PC pastime. Please form an orderly queue, two metres apart, of course, and I shall sex you all up individually.

Avatar State of the Beans Address – 2020: The Write-Off

Friends. Now is a time of crisis and uncertainty, of complications and sullenness the likes of which have not been seen for half a century or possibly longer.

The Bovona Virus has a name. It also has a face. The face that it has does not have as many eyes as I do but they look upon all as a mess to clear up. Not one of those easy messes where you sort of sweep everything into your hands and throw it in the bin. I am talking one of those adolescent messes, a mix of beans and PVA glue, scattered all over your carpet, trodden into the fabric repeatedly and then somehow heated up into a solid, disgusting mass. Human beings are that mass. Bovona wants you and your family hiding in a bin or worse.

The good news is that there are people out there, much smarter people, who are desperately trying to find a cure to this madness. There is one somewhere and they will find it. Like a some cache of Cadbury’s Creme Eggs hidden under a nut bush, these men and woman, these scientists of the modern era, will sniff out these eggs and distribute them amongst the population. When we finally get our eggs there will be great rejoicing and celebration. I personally will be setting aside at least three weeks to sit in a tree and marvel at the outside world. I may have to grow feathers and adopt the mannerisms of an owl, possibly have myself adopted into an owl or owl-like family, in order to survive and I will do. We will all survive. Myself and my owls will ensure it.

So the question remains: what should we do with the rest of 2020? Should we give it a little more time, like the great one-eyed songstress Gabrielle, and hope that the Summer, Autumn and Winter months redeem it? Should we remain patient in the face of adversity? Or, as I would recommend, should we bin the rest of the year, go into suspended animation and all wake up in 2021 to start afresh? Given that all manner of festivals, gigs and other events have been postponed indefinitely until further notice we could have a slew of everything at the same time. We could gorge on tasty morsels of this and that. Perhaps the whole world should take a week off and indulge like chubby beavers trapped in an Oak Furniture Land, in a relentless barrage of hedonistic behaviour and uncompromising lust. How fruity.

I have spoken. We shall prevail.

We need three and, thank Bobby Costanzo, we are three.

Avatar Four Word Reviews: 3 Words

Are you a fan of Our Cheryl? I have to admit I didn’t know much about her before 3 Words, her debut solo album from 2009, plopped onto my doormat in a padded envelope. Cheryl Cole (previously Cheryl Tweedy, now Cheryl Fernandez-Versini, future changes of surname TBC) started out in Girls Aloud, a band created by the ITV series “Popstars”. She then went solo and is now an X Factor judge.

Read More: Four Word Reviews: 3 Words »

Avatar Isolation – North-East Edition

You will never believe what just happened to me! The short version is that I am currently being paid to not work. I am at home right now not working. If I try to work I will be shouted at profusely so I am sat not working on a beanbag listening to the radio.

The year 2020 has been a strange one so far and it continues to get weirder the more we slide through it. The outside world is still there, I can see it, through the big windows in the living room, and it looks fantastic. I reckon that for the moment I am going to stay here and admire it from afar. Besides, it looks a little chilly and I’ve got this patch of dry skin on my hands that the low temperature will not do any favours for.

I have decided to try and do one drawing, sketch or doodle a day for something to look forward to and possibly upload on Twitter (the Book of Faces does not deserve my “talents”) for the world to admire. I hope to have a wall of my efforts with which I can look back on and laugh slobbily, possibly sell to some passing rich aristocrat (they’re always using the footpaths round here) and then retire to the country, doing the same thing I’m doing now, but with a little more style, panache and some hot ladies in a hot tub serving hot drinks.

Look at me and be inspired.