Thursday, February 11, 2016

Sixteen Films About Reading

Local girl Kate Winslet has said that she'd like to make a film in her home town of Reading (presumably to raze to the ground the hideous block of flats named in her honour opposite a Pizza Hut).

This being the case, here's a list of films about Reading. Some local knowledge required.

  1. Poo Island of Doctor Moreau
  2. Butch and Sundance: The Earley Days
  3. Whitley Men Can't Jump
  4. Burnham after Reading (A film set on a commuter train to London)
  5. Hexagon with the Wind
  6. Beavis and Butts Centre
  7. Smelly Alley G: The Movie
  8. What Happens in Heelas
  9. Emmer Green Berets
  10. Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Southcote
  11. Sonning's Gotta Give
  12. Ed Woodley
  13. Journey to the Savacenter of the Earth
  14. Action Jackson's
  15. School of Reading Rock
  16. Caversham Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
The eagle-eyed among you will note a lack of Ricky Gervais vehicle "Cemetery Junction", which while named after the Reading distrct twinned with Gomorrah, wasn't actually filmed there. Essentially because the entire truckload of film equipment would have been stolen during the first lunchbreak.

So, good luck Kate. Sorry about that time I accidentally touched your bosom and all that.

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

Keeping it real with Ian Beale: Episode One

Due to huge demand, I've written the first episode of the shit-larious Phil Mitchell / Ian Beale odd-couple sitcom. This has got 'hit' written all over it. (As in "For mercy's sake Phil, please stop hitting me")

"And now on BBC1, a new series from the makers of EastEnders. Keeping It Real With Ian Beale

"Viewers are advised that this programme contains scenes of a bathroom nature which some might find distressing"

[Opening titles. Theme song]

"Ian and Phil! Ian and Phil!
They live together cos no-one else will
Ian's a loser
And Phil's quite bitter
When Beale makes Phil cross
His head goes down the shitter"

EPISODE ONE: Shark Sandwich

[Ian and Phil's kitchen. Day. Phil is making his packed lunch]

Phil: There. This is going to be the best packed lunch that Walford's ever seen.

[He packs his lunch into an ice cream tub and puts it on the work surface]

[Ian enters carrying an identical plastic tub, which he puts on the work surface next to Phil's packed lunch]

Ian: There. A week's worth of stool samples for the hospital driver to pick up. For God's sake nobody open it, it smells like the end of the world.

Phil: I hope they don't get mixed up and I end up with your poo samples for my lunch, because you know what will happen...

[Think bubble appears above Ian's head showing Ian getting his head flushed down the toilet]

Ian: Please Phil, not again...


Ian: Ah-ha! That'll be the hospital driver picking up my stool samples

[Grabs wrong box, goes to front door]

Phil: And that's my cue to head off to The Arches

[Grabs wrong box]

[Ian re-enters, realises what's just happened]

Ian: Uh-oh.

[There follows twenty-five minutes of Ian Beale trying to make an identical packed lunch and sneaking it into Phil's place of work without him noticing, all with the help of Ian's homicidal son Bobby, whose only suggestions revolve around stoving people to death with blunt objects, and Phil's creepy son Ben Mitchell, whose only motive is to stir up as much trouble as possible. This stuff writes itself, to be honest.]

[The Arches, interior, day. Phil is looking for his lunch]

Phil: Where the hell's my lunch? I only left it here a minute ago. I hope Ian's got nothing to do with it, my flushing arm's feeling a bit stiff.

[Ben enters, carrying an ice cream tub]

Ben: Here you go dad, you left it at home. Ian sent it over.

Phil: I did? That's why you shouldn't drink son, rots your brain.

Ben: Enjoy your shite, dad. Lunch. I meant lunch.

Phil: You're the best son, even after all them murders you done. An' don't let anyone take that away from ya

Ben: Whatever you say dad. Just take your time opening that box, eh?

[Ben leaves in a hurry]

[Phil sits down, leisurely tucks a napkin into his collar, sighs happily, and opens the lunchbox. His nose twitches, but he suspects nothing as he grabs a sandwich]

[Cut away to Ben and Bobby outside The Arches]

Bobby: Shit sandwiches?

Ben: Shit sandwiches.

[Cut back to Phil]

Phil: Cheese and chutney, my favourite.

[Phil takes a huge bite]


CAPTION: Later that evening

[Phil and Ian's bathroom, Phil is flushing Ian's head down the toilet]

Ian: Whargarble!

Phil: Lol.


Monday, February 08, 2016

Keeping it real with Ian Beale

I've had an idea. An idea for the best television programme in the world ever. Here, let me explain, in Twitter form:

They don't even have to film the last scene, either, as there is plenty of archive footage.

Like Terry and June, only with an East End thug and a bloke who runs a chip shop who has survived innumerable assassination attempts. There's even a working title:

Man, I can taste the BAFTA awards dinner already.

Friday, February 05, 2016

On getting a tattoo

Let's all get tattoos!

I've never felt the urge to get a tattoo. It's not the thought that I'll be inked with something I might regret for the rest of my life. No. It's being prodded under my skin with a red-hot needle.

Then I saw this masterpiece.

Now I want a tramp-era Ian Beale inked onto my body.

In fact, everybody should get a tramp-era Ian Beale inked onto their body because tramp-era Ian Beale is best Ian Beale.

"I am the best Ian Beale"
Moustache-era Ian Beale is the worst Ian Beale. Do not get a tattoo of moustache-era Ian Beale.

"I am the worst Ian Beale"
Now we're all agreed, let's meet back here tomorrow and compare inkings. You go first.

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Proverb of the Day

Wise words to live by:

"Remove Mr Blobby's head and you'll find Noel Edmonds inside.

Remove Noel Edmonds' head and it's arterial blood spurting up the wall, screaming kiddiewinks and getting tasered the police."

Essentially, if you're going to murder celebrities (and we do not advise this course of action), make sure you don't knock their heads off in front of the kiddiewinks. Think of the kiddiewinks.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

The complete 'Aargh wasps!'

Wasps are evil, unless they are used in a practical joke that leaves the victim covered in almost-certainly fatal stings shouting "Aargh wasps!" as they try to escape. Then they're brilliant.

Here then, is a list of circumstances WHICH HAVE ACTUALLY HAPPENED which show how any "Aargh wasps!" scenario could play out.

The wasp of choice in all of the following is: Japanese Ninja Wasps.

Dad: What do you want in your school lunch?
Kid: Surprise me
[Fills lunchbox with wasps]
Dad: lol
Mum: lol

[Munich, 1933]
Hitler: Ach, another time machine. Yawn
[Door opens]
Hitler: Ach du liebe Gott und Aargh vasps!
Future Churchill: lol

Priest: The body of Christ
Man: Aargh, it's a wasp
Priest: The body of Christ
Woman: Aargh, it's a wasp
Priest: lol


Man: Forgive me father, for I have sinned
[Priest presses button marked WASPS]
Man: Aargh wasps!
Priest: lol


Man: Doctor, I'm allergic to wasps
[Doctor's finger hovers over button marked WASPS]
Man: But it's not fatal
[Presses button]
Doctor: lol


Scientist: Time to test my electronic wasp repellent
Assistant: I reversed the polarity
Scientist: Aargh wasps!
Assistant: lol


Doctor Who: To the TARDIS!
Master: I filled it with wasps
[Distant cries of Aargh wasps!]
Master: lol


Teacher: Open the packet on your desk & start your wasp studies exam
Kids: Aargh wasps!
Teacher: No talking
Kids: Aargh
Teacher: lol


[TV studio]
Noel Edmonds: Let's open your box - is it the £250k jackpot?
[Opens box]
Contestant: Aargh wasps!
Noel: lol
[Phone rings]
Banker: lol 


[Sign reads 'Warning! Wasps guard these premises']
Robber: A likely story
[Breaks window]
Robber: Aargh wasps!
Bank manager: lol


[Murder scene]
Holmes: The work of Moriarty
Watson: How did you deduce that?
Holmes: Open the box he left
Watson: Aargh wasps!
Holmes: lol


[Cricket match]
Bowler: Here's my secret weapon
[Batsman hits ball, splits open to reveal angry wasps]
Batsman: Aargh wasps!
Bowler: lol 


[FA Cup final]
John Terry: Watch me score a goal
[Ball explodes, it's made of wasps]
John Terry: Aargh wasps!
Referee: lol
Crowd: lol

Batman: Hmm, a parcel from The Riddler
[Label says 'Hooray not bees!']
Robin: Holy open it Batman
Batman: Aargh wasps!
Riddler: lol 


[The Voice]
Contestant: *singing*
[Seat spins round, it's wasps]
Contestant: Aargh wasps! lol 


Gillian McKeith: What HAVE you been eating?
Noted jokester Jeremy Beadle: Wasps
[Wasps fly from bum tube]
McKeith: Aargh wasps!
Beadle: lol 


[Bullingdon Club]
Dave: Watch me stick my thing in this pig's head
Boris: I filled it with wasps for a jape
Dave: Aargh wasps!
Boris: lol

[Nuclear power station]
Tech1: Emergency! Open the reactor core!
Tech2: I swapped the coolant for wasps
Tech1: Aargh wasps!
Tech2: lol

[Moscow, 1812]
Napoleon: At last! Moscow is mine!
[Throws open Kremlin doors]
Napoleon: Aargh wasps!
Pierre Bezukhov: lol

That's enough wasps.

Monday, January 25, 2016

In which Breaking Bad comes to Redfields Garden Centre in Church Crookham

To the local garden centre for a tea and scone in their ridiculously named Cafe Theatre (we've been there loads, and the acting is terrible, and everybody seems to be a chef). But that is by-the-by when this gentleman appears to the next row along:

If that's not Walter White out of Breaking Bad, I want to know who he is.

We looked and looked, but his terrible car wasn't in the car park.

"You heard. I want a nice Nissan Micra instead."

Friday, January 22, 2016

The Star Wars Universe and the Father Ted Universe are the same Universe

A headline in today's Dorset Echo, the local paper for the Weymouth, Dorchester and West Dorset areas, asks: Has the Death Star washed up on a Dorset Beach?

As any student of Betteridge's Law of Headlines will tell you, this is a classic example of a question that can only be answered 'no'. Of course it's not the Death Star washed up not a million miles from Billy Bragg's house.

Or is it?

If there is anything Father Ted has taught us, size is relative, and that could actually be the Death Star bobbing about in the English Channel and not a buoy broken free of its mooring, an explanation which is clearly nonsense.

The point is that George Lucas never told us how tall people are in his galaxy long long ago and far far away. Gravity there is almost certainly different to gravity on our humble planet, and Luke and Darth and Han and Leia might only be a few inches tall. you know: The same size as their Earthly action figures.

That opens up the possibility that the globe washed up in Dorset actually is a discarded, fully operational full-sized Death Star, which has floated through space down the millennia and crashed into the sea on an obscure planet in the Milky Way galaxy. Near Bridport.

A genuine, real-life example of the Small-Far Away Phenomenon so clearly demonstrated by Ted and Dougal. 

And if you follow incontrovertible logic, this means that the Star Wars Universe is the same universe as the Father Ted Universe, and that Father Jack is of The Dark Side.

I am not mad.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Statins. Miracle Drug

To the pharmacy

Me: Prescription for Coleman

[After much rummaging]

Pharmacist: Here it is, Mr Coleman. You'll note the special instructions on the statins

Me: [Reading aloud] "Avoid drinking grapefruit juice". Why's that? Does it react with the drugs

Pharmacist: Yes. And it tastes like death

Stick THAT on the front of the Daily Express.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

The Return of Robot Wars: Death to the puny fleshy masters

Good news for people who enjoy watching young children's flimsy plastic dreams being crushed by nuclear-powered jack-hammers: the BBC is to bring back Robot Wars.

There is nothing quite so satisfying as the sight of a group of kids in school blazers as their creation is walloped back to the stone age by a bunch of engineers, spurred on by blood lust to build a mechanical monstrosity out of steel beams, rotating axe blades and hideous spiky death.

In the rest of the world, nobody likes an underdog. In Robot Wars, underdogs are utterly destroyed as a lesson for being so weak.

And with technology moving on leaps and bounds since the last time the show aired, we fully expect fully-refined killbots, swatting a disbelieving Air Cadet troop's drone out of the sky, before forcing them to eat it.

However, the public demands more. They want a programme with killer robots where "sudden death" means just that. A programme where the robots are in completely charge; and the fleshy masters are shown up for the flabby weaklings that they are.

That's why we demand Celebrity Robot Wars.

It works like this: A group of Geordie Shores, TOWIES and assorted hangers-on are enticed into the Big Brother house. Unfortunately for them, the other housemates are Sir Killalot, Sgt Bash, and that one with the huge rotating discs that could almost certainly take of a celebrity's foot at the ankle.

BIG BROTHER: "And this is the kitchen. You'll notice modern work appliances, twin sink unit and channels in the floor to let the blood flow safely away."

KEITH CHEGWIN: "I beg your pardon?"

BIG BROTHER: "Uh... nothing. Nothing. If you'd take care walking past the rotating knives, and make your way to the living area."

JOEY ESSEX: "Is that a hand under the sofa? It's still twitching..."
BIG BROTHER: "and this is your new housemate. Call him Kenneth."

CHEGGERS: "I don't recognise you. What were you in?"

CALL ME KENNETH: "The Robot War of 2099"

CHEGGERS: "Never heard of it"
I'd buy that for a dollar.

And thanks to 2000AD comic, we see this particularly satisfying vision of the very near future
Clarification: Some of the gags in this piece were cheggered from Twitter's Al Storer, which now makes him famous enough to join Celebrity Robot Wars.

Why the new National Anthem for England must be One Step Beyond by Madness

"Please be standing for the National Anthem"

With the country's problems all solved, our MPs are turning to the matters that really count: A National Anthem for England.

Of course, MPs are one of the two groups of people that should never be trusted with such a far reaching decision (the other being the British public), which means that the choice should be left to people who know what they're on about.

Bearing in mind the turgid drones that both Canada and Australia went for when given the choice, and the fact the English will probably end up with Jerusalem or something awful by Adele, I feel that the only choices should be upbeat. Look at the Italians, that's an anthem.

And there's nothing more patriotic than One Step Beyond byMadness. As one person told me – "You can't help but stand up when that track comes on", so that's half the battle won already.

Just imagine:

Commentator: "As Tom Daley receives his gold medal, let's pause to hear the anthem"


Tears-to-the-eyes stuff, and it can also double as the England football team's entrance music, the whole squad doing the funny walk with Roy Hodgson leading the way with a toy saxophone at his lips.

(The rugby union side can keep "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", as long as Twickenham is set adrift somewhere in the freezing southern oceans of the Antarctic, where it belongs. It's a relocation that may cost billions, but will be worth every penny, and it's not as if anybody will freeze to death in all those Barbour coats and centrally-heated Range Rovers)

Failing One Step Beyond getting the nod, there's also YaketySax, if you can stand the sight of the armed forces doing the Benny Hill salute every time it comes on.

And dammit, yes I can.

 There. The (intelligent part of) the British public have spoken.