Don’t ye fret, ye
Little babby,
Let all bad thought decease,
For soon I’ll have ye,
Little babby,
Wrapped in lizard’s fleece.
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I could really use a larger than A6 tablet for drawing. I could also do with being better at drawing but what can you do!
PS It’s not Saturday any more but it took me this long to get my act together.
We are no longer Number One on Google. Oh bugger. As Timon and Pumbaa once mused:
“Thought of changing my name.”
“But what’s in a name?”
There’s been a lot of discussion recently about names and the opportunity to pick and choose them. This isn’t something most of us get to choose, or at least don’t bother with any concerted effort. There are the rare occasions where you get to choose a name for something or someone and have the metaphorical World as your metaphysical Oyster. When this opportunity presents itself you must take advantage of it and choose a name that is, well, Awesome.
Fort Awesome seemed like an almost obvious choice when it came to choosing our abode’s moniker. I struggle to remember any of the other candidates. I think “Sam’s Fuck Barn” may have been one of them, but I also may have just made that up for comedic effect. The name has mostly stood the test of time. It even survived a house-change, like Air Force One, only without the fighter escort. However it has become obvious that ‘awesome’ has lost its impact; most often the name is simplified to ‘The Fort’. Has the name’s time come and done a runner, like a pocket-watch with roid-rage? The initial disappointment that the name was not unique, turned, thanks to Google, into annoyance that we weren’t the number one hit. We have now had our time in the sun, and that time has passed. Is the name now so ingrained in each of us that it is heresy to even contemplate a different name; further sacrilege to consider another name as superior in the Comedic Arts? Alas New equals Funny and usurpers to the crown have made their piece, and it is funnier. Don’t burn me at that petrol-soaked tree, but The Trungalow Of Lusty Menance is good. We are officially Old News.
The second name-related thoughts come, irrevocably, to myself. You see I have two first names, but only a single surname. I am unable to answer the question “Does Jeff have a surname?” with anything better than the now-tired “No, it’s like Cher.” Jeff should have a surname, but it cannot be Jones. Jeff Jones is a leper in its lameness. But I have no idea what would be better. Jeff was just right at the time and anything else would seem forced. Maybe, like The Fort, it was of its time and cannot be altered. Or maybe I just need to open it to the audience.
Just as long as everybody doesn’t start fraking calling me Geoffrey.
“Sit down, son,” he said. I sat down at the old park bench, as a brown dog leaped for a frisbee some distance away. The apex of the jump was rudely coincided by a rather sturdy tree.
“The time has come for you to learn about the birds and the bees,” I perked up at this point, having always been quite good at marine biology. The phrase wasn’t new to me but the meaning of it was still vague, just as an otter can read a newspaper but he doesn’t really understand the political stuff, preferring to stick to the weather and the comics at the back.
He continued. “You know son, it all starts when a man and a woman meet - in a fancy down town bar or jazz club. And the man says hello and the woman says hello and the man asks for 50p and the woman gets all up in a fuss over nothing. What’s that all about, son? I can’t work it out.” As I attempted to work it out another brown dog stumbled hazily past our bench, before falling over rather pathetically on the grass. I had some bread on me so I threw a piece at its head, because I heard that things in the park liked to eat baked goods. The dog continued to lay there, licking casually at the wheaty slice lying just in tongue’s reach. “What about those birds and bees?” I inquired. “Where do they enter the equation?” A wry smile introduced itself to the old man’s face.
“Well the birds, you see, they’re always looking. Always flying up above, and looking. Sometimes they eat bread too. Not so different from you and I, birds. And the bees, well the ladies love the bees you see. Nothing impresses a lady more than a full hive of bees, so you need to get into the beekeeping business.” By this time I had a notepad out, jotting down the silky, golden words of advice. “Of course, the only woman I ever spoke to was the judge at a beekeeping contest, but I doubt that’s related.” I concurred silently, and thought for a minute about bees, and perhaps honey. I wondered if bees liked the taste of their own honey.
“Now, son, the main thing is, don’t enumerate your eggs prior to the end of the gestation period.” I only wish he’d told me all this before last week. Still, my father was a good man; if only I’d been talking to him instead of this sweaty homeless tramp.
I made my excuses and left.
Apparently, sand kills more people a year than sharks do. I’m not sure how much I believe this. I mean sand has never had a movie directed by Steven Spielberg made about it. In fact no-one has ever directed any movie about sand, not even Michael Bay.
It does bare the question though, if sharks are pretty scary, and sand is more deadly than sharks, then surely nothing is more pant-wettingly scary than a…
AAAARRRGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Of course, we all like Dads. And that’s why Fort Awesome, like all good Dads, are inviting you to participate in this exciting lifestyle opportunity.
“The Best of Your DAD Singing in the Shower” is the brand new CD from Fort Awesome Records, containing twelve electrifying tracks, all performed by genuine Dads in real showers. Included are all your classic favourites:
Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten
Radiohead - Kid A
The Beatles - Revolution 9
Béla Bartók - Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta
And much, much more! All this wonderful music could be yours for just £13.99, so send us your fucking money!
For an extra £3.00 you can purchase the special limited addition, which contains a photo-book of each Dad’s soapy penis and testicles. Buy today - happiness is just £16.99 away!
BBC News continues its trend of “a thing that causes cancer”-a-week with this week’s exclusive:
- Multi-vitamins - Not especially funny, but another great example of something that is meant to make you better making you dead.
Now where did I put my gun?
Work is hard. The hours, long. The whippings, wholly unnecessary. So after a long haul down in the pits Moses and I like to relax with some doodle tennis. Using the magic of Live Messenger’s handwriting feature (seriously, why does no other chat thing have this?) we choose a theme and take turns to draw doodles. The tools are rudimentary and we have just two mice to do our artistic bidding through our handular motionistics.
On this occassion, we decided to draw Jeff. Here are the fruits in whole and in order. They go through various phases of abstractness and absurdity.
Me:
Moses:
Me:
Moses:
Me:
Me:
Moses:
Me:
Me:
Jeff’s classic wardrobe: Tux, beach shorts and sandals. Plus moose head.
Moses:
Moses again:
That just about wraps it up. If you merge together all these images you get a pretty good likeness of the man himself.
Well done Nick for making this webpage less horribly offensive to the skullsockets of all mankind. I feel I can now post my horrifically irrelevant and irreverent thoughts without feeling like they are dining in a tin bucket with arse-piss.
[LIFE UPDATE]
Bassically I’ve been learning to play the bass guitar, getting paid more golden nuggets for my man-hours and generally hanging aboot the place. I’m officially still shit at the bass but, maybe, joost maybee, one day in the non-too-distant future I’ll merely suck. When that day comes I plan to buy a bass instead of stealing Jeffington’s. And buy it I shall, with my newly acquired wealth garnered from glambering that slippery career ladder. For those keeping score, I’m now making the games instead of breaking them.
[ENOUGH OF THAT SORT OF THING]
I’m feeling my anger reserves somewhat depleted at present, but I intend to actually use this blog thing again to get it more filled with interesting things to read, because I feel I should.
There is only a precious, and tiny amount of actually good enertainment in this world and I sense that I’m about halfway through it already. If someone doesn’t start adding stuff to the heap we might just run right the hell out.
Things you should be watching, because I have been:
The Wire - Social portrait of a city falling apart and the people trying to hold it together. Literally bursting with good ideas.
Heroes - Big TV does comic book. Influenced by several good ones, tendency to go a bit Lost-esque at times. Too many characters.
Peep Show - One of the only comedy programs in the last five years not to be, on the whole, a bit shit. Comedy is hard, but Peep Show keeps coming up with the gold. Mitchell & Webb really need to relax on their piles of cash on a sun drenched beach for a while. It can’t be long before the rest of the public are as exhausted with them as my eyes are with seeing their faces everywhere I turn. I doubt they will though; the utter bastards.
I often read BBC news online when I’m at work to keep me apprised of, well, news. And I’ve noticed a disturbing trend in the Health section: everything causes cancer. Now I’m not just talking about the obvious ones. Some of the most ridiculous things apparently cause cancer. Even things that are meant to be good for you! Brilliant. Here are some of my favourites:
- Bread
- Red meat
- Milk
- Salt
- Vegetables - Seriously, how are you meant to win here?
- Being tall, for men, and women - This one angered me. How are you meant to do anything about being tall? How does this study actually help prevention? Excuse me while I go and chop the bottom of my legs off.
- Obesity
- Growth spurts
- Infections - No shit sherlock.
- Herpes
- Pollution
- Hormone replacement therapy
- Oral sex - This one was on there today, and prompted this post. It also made me chuckle. That’s probably a bad thing.
- The Immune system - OK. Now we really are screwed.
- Stress - See, it is all in your head.
- Bacteria - But also, in your body.
- X-rays - Keep that git Superman away from me!
I appreciate that some of these may have been proved wrong by now, but there’s a new one every week I swear.
One of the many failures spawned in my attempt to genetically engineer the perfect human. This one doesn’t have enough teeth.
I’m somewhat lacking inspiration.
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