Four Word Reviews: A Christmas Album

April is truly the most Christmassy month. There are several reasons for that. The first is that it just is. I mean, Christmas happens in December, obviously, but that really just makes the idea of December being the most Christmassy month a bit bourgeois and low-brow. No, April’s right on the fashions. The second reason is the weather – all that blazing hot sunshine that’s turned up in the last few days can’t help but make you feel festive. And the third reason is that it was in April last year that we listened to Mahalia’s Christmas album. (You did listen to it, didn’t you?)

Needless to say, then, this April we’re spinning another yuletide disc. This one is A Christmas Album, recorded in 1967 by Barbra Streisand.

Your Contact Numbers

Right.

Chris, I need you to call the Customer Service Desk; an old lady has turned up wanting to return a half-eaten box of grapes and exchange it for a soup ladle. Then when that’s sorted can you ring Captain and ask him if he has had sight of the whale in the last fifteen hours. There were a few blips on the sonar yesterday morning and if we need to start preparing the harpoons I would rather know now.

If Kev is still here and within an audible range, I need you to visit John/Michelle, who is currently in the middle of his/her sex change operation, and ask him/her to cover the deli counter over lunch because Barbara had to call in sick. Once that’s out the way can you make call Jane’s Cage to ask when she is likely to be able to move it to a more convenient place as it is clogging up aisle twelve and nobody can reach the tinned prunes.

Meanwhile I need to contact Wendy who, for some reason, has morphed into an Argos store. Before she starts selling reasonably-priced home and garden wares, in addition to electronics and toys, I must insist that she goes home and calls someone who is more qualified to deal with this situation. I also have to phone FTG (“Furious Toga Gargoyle”) who is parading around the freezer section and flashing his turgid, green dangly bits to anyone within reach. It really is more a matter for the police however I intend to deal with it before we escalate it to the correct authorities.

Let’s not dawdle now, people, we all have a busy day ahead of us.

Otters

Here are some very important questions.

Are you Common?

Look at you.

Who are you? What do you do? Are you common? I know that it is not very politically correct to ask this question however it needs to be asked. I know that I am common, mainly from the state of my shoes, but also because I eat like a duck with two mouths and I’ve never paid more than £20.00 for a plate of food. I am safe in the knowledge that I am common.

How can I be sure of this though? Is there a test I can take?

Of course there is. Following on from the raging success of my Cake ‘Appropriate Girlfriend (short skirt, long jacket)’ questionnaire now comes the ‘How Common are you?’ questionnaire, mainly based on the lyrics of the popular song ‘Common People’ by Pulp. Depending on how many of these metaphysical boxes you tick (because I don’t know how to ‘do’ boxes on here) dictates how common you, as in you, are. Take a squint at these.

Have you ever:

Rented a flat above a shop?
Cut you hair?
Got a job?
Smoked some fags?
Played some pool?
Pretended you never went to school?

Based on these, I can tick five out of the six boxes. I have never officially got a job and instead make my money by spinning pennies for sailors down at the socks. Do we still have docks? Yes, we still have docks.

That’s what I do. How common are you?

Mrs Miggins thinks big

What’s that crafty (and also hugely desirable) old property tycoon up to now?

Last we heard of Mrs Miggins, some years ago, she was fitting out her properties with those chrome fittings and understated (yet ostentatious) gardens. But the other day I was in Farringdon when I stumbled across the fateful property where we first encountered her.

75 Farringdon Road: 25,000 Sq Ft of Exceptional Office Space

It looks like the house where I, or possibly Ian, it was never really made clear in the lyrics, first fell for Mrs Miggins, has been pulled down and is going to be replaced with some stylish offices instead.

My first thought, of course, was sadness: sadness that a place that meant so much to me, or possibly Ian, had been swept away in the blink of an eye to further expand the Miggins real estate empire.

But then I thought no, let’s embrace the change. I propose that we immediately put in a bid to rent some office space there for the official Pouring Beans offices. We’ve been working from home much too long; it’s time we established a base for ourselves. And there could be no more appropriate address than 75 Farringdon Road. I’m ready to chip in my fiver.

You and Your Orb

So you’ve taken the plunge and out comes an orb. Well done! Please refer back to my previous post before reading on because we’re British here and we don’t like getting ahead of ourselves (see here: ORBS).

You will be completely perplexed at first but that’s okay, relax! Everyone struggles with their first orb so you are not alone in your endeavours. Gently place the orb on the sofa next to you and carry on scanning this helpful article.

Your orb will still be quite small and easy to deal with. The most important thing is not to treat it like a piece of luggage. Don’t put it in your rucksack or man bag, however you roll in 2019, underneath your gym socks and your eiderdowns. This orb has feelings and whilst it may warm your socks in readiness for your upcoming “stretch session” you will not win any orbular points. Carry the orb in your arms, either out in front of you or cautiously tucked into your side. If you have the correct equipment you can put the orb in a carry case on your back so you have the benefit of being able to use your hands whilst knowing the orb is safe. It will also allow you and your orb to grow closer together because of the contact you share.

When your orb is having a fun time it will glow a warmish, orange colour; this way you know you are doing things right. If at any point they emit a loud shriek like a pigeon in a pair of stilettos then you know something is wrong. Similarly, if they display any colours towards a reddish hue then that is also an indication that you should look at what you’re doing. Occasionally your orb may confuse you further by glowing a purple or lavender colour, the same as Prince’s rain, which will either mean they’re happy but worried at the same time or that they need the toilet. We would strongly recommend keeping some orb bags with you at all times in case they have a little accident. Replacement dungarees are also to be encouraged.

There is a lot to do at first, so much that there is not enough (fake) ink and (fake) paper to cover everything, and you may feel overwhelmed. Remember that everyone learns from their mistakes and you are not the first person to pick up a little mess from the ground because you misinterpreted the colour scheme of your orb.

Love your orb and your orb will love you right back.

Seagull Competition: Results

It’s been a long time coming and the tension is almost too much to bear. A couple of months ago, we asked the Beans Massive to tell us what a Llandudno seagull was thinking back in May 2017 when he was photographed thusly.

It’s taken a while to select a winner, principally because of the difficulty of locating this exact seagull and then establishing a way of communicating a question about its internal thought processes from nearly two years ago that it could understand, and then interpreting its answer. It has also proven a bit tricky to get it to select a prize.

Big Frank’s Global Domination – The Music Biz

So what do you do when you’ve already conquered the chips, graphic design, computers, cycle hire and boat hiring services worlds? What else could you possibly need to include in your empire to satisfy your desperate need for a domineering monopoly over the rest of the world? You want to stick your dorsal fins tightly into the music business, that’s what.

Not just any music business though. You need to enter the Southern California hardcore scene. We have all seen Big Frank and he is clearly obsessed with thrash metal, speed metal, hardcore and the like. If he’s not punking out on the roof, spitting at pigeons and throwing pork pies at strangers then he’s working tirelessly to move the hardcore scene forward with his enduring work ethic.

Let us not forget that this was the man who started Nemesis Records and who put out the first Offspring album. Big Frank began as a tea boy and worked his way up all the way to the top, grinding his teeth with local bands such as Fisticuffs, Mental Eric, Cracked Vase, Hate Your Mum and What a To Do before moving to producing some of the tastiest albums of big hitters like Vaynes, Syck Syck, Death Hands and Cheryl’s Anus.

To put everyone else to shame too, as well as doing all of this he is a full-time tattoo artist and looks after sick and injured animals. I mean I may as well give up now, there is no way I can ever compete with this man. He must work 26 hour days. Big Frank is clearly a glutton for punishment; what a guy.

The next time you’re getting neck pains from rocking too hard, I hope you’ll think of Biggy F and his overwhelming contribution not just to music but also to the world. You think long and hard, sunshine.