Socks Maniac

I took a bit too long retrieving socks from my sock drawer this morning. This is because I am on the "socks with the name of the day printed on them" treadmill.

The "socks with the name of the day printed on them" treadmill is a cruel mistress, for when one steps upon it on a Monday, one cannot step off it until the Saturday. One cannot, for example, wear the socks on Monday and Tuesday, and go for a light grey pair on Wednesday. Even if it's "Light Grey Socks Wednesday" in work.

This is a shame, as I quite like "Light Grey Socks Wednesday," much more than "Drag Tuesday" or "Dress Down Friday," when we all turn up to work and get a telling-off from the boss.

I don't want you to think I have OCD, but I am quite obsessive about this. I think it's very important to ensure the correct socks are worn on the correct day, even though the word printed on the sock is on the sole, for I would be mortified to have an appalling accident.


Something like this would be bound to happen...

A&E DOCTOR
What have we got?

BANDAGE
Urrrr. Gahhhh. Ooh-yah!

PARAMEDIC
Weird looking chap. Glasses, sticky-up hair, ill-fitting suit. Looks a bit like a cross between Ardal O'Hanlon and Adrian Chiles. RTA. Hard to tell what's happened. Looks like the car mounted the pavement.

A&E DOCTOR
Ah, is he a homosexual? As has recently been established by Liverpool City Council, cars are like kryptonite to the gays.

PARAMEDIC
No, I don't think so. As I mentioned, he has an ill-fitting suit and looks like a cross between Ardal O'Hanlon and Adrian Chiles, so I suspect he'd get short shrift if he so much as dipped a toe into the gay pond.

BANDAGE
(indistinct mumble)

A&E DOCTOR
Hmm, he's saying something about his feet. Let me have a look at his feet. Help me get the shoes off.

BANDAGE
(AGONIZED) Nooo.

A&E DOCTOR
His socks say Thursday. But today is Monday. He probably thought the road was safe, maybe even a grassy meadow, so confused is he by life and the outside world. Hmm. Nurse, bring me the "special" pain-killers. We'll put this poor confused idiot out of his misery.


This could quite easily happen.


On an entirely unrelated matter, is this the most disturbing gingerbread man ever created?



What sort of person goes into confectionery to create a monster like this specifically to scare children? A very bad one, I'd venture.

Village People

I was tickled pink to discover that Liverpool is to have its own gay village, Dorothy being a friend of friends of mine.

But then I was disappointed that it will not be a permanent fixture, with, for example, a gay village shop and a gay village idiot.

It will only appear at night, the catalyst being when Stanley Street becomes closed off to cars. Pedestrianisation is, apparently, the single precondition for the establishment of a gay village.
I had no idea that cars were a particular risk to homosexuals.

My only thought is that their heads must be so full of gayness that they are unable to walk exclusively on pavements. Perhaps that is what being gay is all about - it's not about chaps liking to play with other chaps' bits, it's jaywalking. Or gaywalking as it was probably originally known before the PC police came and took all our words away.

I used to work in Southport and Chapel Street was a bustling street full of life and litter and that. But it has recently been pedestrianised.

Anyway, to test whether my theory of pedestrianisation being a precondition for an outpouring of homosexuality, I popped along to Chapel Street.

Here are my findings...

9am Not many people.
10am Not many people.
11am Somebody walks into Marks & Spencer.
12 noon Lunch
1pm Not many people.
2pm Not many people.
3pm Not many people.
4pm Not many people.
5pm Not many people.
6pm Not many people.
7pm Not many people.
8pm Nobody.
9pm Nobody.
10pm It's like magic. From out of nowhere, a rainbow of coloured handkerchiefs. Men with moustaches. Women with moustaches. Balloons. People not breeding. It's a big gay party of gayness with gay people being gay in a gay context.
11pm I just saw a gay man holding hands with another gay man. It's just like Torchwood.
12 midnight At last. A man with oiled muscles and leather chaps walks down the street. He's carrying a banner. It reads: "Boo to cars. They are like kryptonite to us gays."

Proof positive, I reckon.

Plastic Fantastic

I see that the makers of Barbie are now advertising their doll with the Aqua hit Barbie Girl.



I think that's a smashing idea, on a par with Her Majesty's Christmas message using God Save The Queen by the Sex Pistols. Obviously, some of the lyrics could be considered a bit fruity for the target market, but I think Barbie should get a bit of edge. Seven-year-old girls have had it their own way for far too long, it's about time ironic drag queens got a piece of the action.

I find it difficult to imagine how Mattel bosses allowed this brave departure. Difficult, but not impossible...

INT. MATTEL BOARDROOM - DAY

THE BOARD OF MATTEL IS IN SESSION.

CHAIRMAN:
Gee, fellas, I'm really worried about Barbie. We saw off that Sindy doll, but Bratz are proving trickier than a Paul Daniels, Derren Brown and David Blaine "Who's the trickiest?" trick-off. Ideas?

MINION #1:
We need to show we're cutting edge. How about using a song from 1997 in our advertisements?

CHAIRMAN:
That's just the sort of forward thinking we're looking for. Anybody got a song suggestion?

MINION #2:
Well, sir, if I'm not mistaken, the pop group Aqua had a hit in that very year called Barbie Girl. And I believe it was actually inspired by our product.

CHAIRMAN:
That is amazing. The best news you could have brought me. Goshdarnit, let's use it. We can probably sue them anyway for breach of copyright if they don't play ball. We are, after all, Mattel.

MINIONS #1 and #2:
We'll get to it right away, sir.

MINION #3:
Can I just throw a pea into the pot of baked beans at this juncture?

CHAIRMAN:
This had better be good.

MINION #3:
It's just, well, I'm not sure the song is appropriate. As I recall it is a bit fruity for the target market.

CHAIRMAN:
You'd better explain, Minion #3.

MINION #3:
I shall quote from memory...
"You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere."

CHAIRMAN:
That's completely accurate. Those are things one can do with Barbie. You're wasting my time.

MINION #3:
There's more...
"Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please
I can act like a star, I can beg on my knees
Come jump in, be my friend, let us do it again
Hit the town, fool around, let's go party."

MINION #2:
If anything, that just emphasises the flexibility of Barbie as a plaything. She can play many different roles. Star, for example, or friend.

MINION #3:
Right, fine, let me take out the big gun, then ...
"I'm a blonde single girl in the fantasy world
Dress me up, take your time, I'm your dollie
You're my doll, rock and roll, feel the glamour and pain
Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky-panky
You can touch, you can play."

CHAIRMAN:
There's nothing wrong with that. You clearly have some sort of dirty mind, looking for double entendres that simply are not there. You're fired. Get out!

MINION #3 LEAVES.

CHAIRMAN:
"Let me take out the big gun..." Did he mean his knob?

ENDS

I bet that's exactly how it happened.

The Change Is As Good As A Rest

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY

DOCTOR MACKENZIE IS SITTING AT HIS DESK.

ANGELA PUGH - 50s, PRIM - ENTERS.

DOCTOR:
Mrs Pugh, what can I do for you?

ANGELA:
Erm, you're a general practitioner. Ideally, you would diagnose my illness and then either refer me on to a specialist or prescribe a remedy which I should then obtain from a pharmacist.

DOCTOR:
Ah, yes. I'd completely forgotten your tendency to answer every question in a very literal way. Must make a note. What appears to be the trouble?

ANGELA:
I have no idea. That is why I have come to see a diagnostician, such as yourself.

DOCTOR:
What is wrong with you?

ANGELA:
I refer you to my previous answer.

DOCTOR:
What. Are. Your. Symptoms?

ANGELA:
Ooo, well. I've been having hot flushes, mood swings...

DOCTOR:
Mood swings?

ANGELA:
That's right, YOU MASSIVE TWAT!!! And I'm not as regular as I once was, with regard to my monthlies.

DOCTOR:
Well this is all perfectly normal. You're undergoing the menopause, Mrs Pugh.

ANGELA:
The menopause. I literally have no idea what you are talking about.

DOCTOR:
Essentially, you will cease to menstruate and no longer be fertile.

ANGELA:
Oh, that's good. I could do with a respite from all that fertility business. Terrible nuisance, what with having babies and the agony of childbirth and all that.

DOCTOR:
There's not really anything I can prescribe. It's an entirely natural...

ANGELA:
So when do they start again?

DOCTOR:
What?

ANGELA:
My periods.

DOCTOR:
They don't.

ANGELA:
Oh, I think they must.

DOCTOR:
No, really, they don't.

ANGELA:
Then they should bloody call it the menostop then, shouldn't they? Calling it the menopause is misleading, YOU MASSIVE TWAT.

ENDS

I have to say that I agree with Angela Pugh. I also think they should call early onset of periods in juveniles the menofastforward.

Nature, Red In Tooth And Claw

EXT. GARDEN - DAY

MAGGOT
All right?

CATERPILLAR
Yes, thank you.

MAGGOT
Haven't seen you before. Blimey, you're a big fella, aren't you? Sorry, I bet you've heard that a thousand times.

CATERPILLAR
Not really.

MAGGOT
I'm not going to be able to finish this on my own. Can I tempt you with a bit of decomposing pigeon?

CATERPILLAR
No thanks.

MAGGOT
Sure? It's past its Best After Date...

CATERPILLAR
No. You're very kind, but I'm vegetarian.

MAGGOT
What?!? You're pulling my ... erm.

CATERPILLAR
Honestly, old chap. Give me a nice leaf and I'm happy.

MAGGOT
Now, you don't get to be a big lad like you on salad.

CATERPILLAR
Really, I...

MAGGOT
(SNORTING)
Vegetarian! My mate Dave tried that. First sniff of dead dog and he was off the wagon faster than Kerry Katona out of rehab.

CATERPILLAR
I'm a caterpillar, sir.

MAGGOT
Ahhhh... Religious thing, is it?

CATERPILLAR
Have you ever seen a caterpillar before?

MAGGOT
No.

CATERPILLAR
We become butterflies, welcome adornments to anybody's garden, whereupon we sip nectar from the finest flowers. We do NOT EAT CARRION!

MAGGOT
Heh, I know your sort. Hoity-toity-dog-shit's-not-good-enough-for-me snobs. I see you lot all the time in my game.

CATERPILLAR
And what game is that?

MAGGOT
Showbiz.

CATERPILLAR
Really, I hardly think...

MAGGOT
Third Maggot in Corpse's Mouth. So you bugger off and look pretty, mate... I've got a scene with Trevor Eve.

ENDS.

Buy One Get One 20p Dearer

So, now even Tesco has joined Vimto's conspiracy to destroy ginger beer.





Are there no depths to which this evil monolith will stoop?

Where Babies Come From - A Lesson From History

INT. STUDY - DAY

A BOOK-LINED STUDY, CIRCA 1900. LEATHER ARMCHAIRS. CRACKLING FIRE.

FATHER AND JEREMY ARE SITTING TOGETHER.

FATHER:
Now, my boy, soon you shall be 21 and attain man's estate.

JEREMY:
(DEEP VOICE) Yes, Father.

FATHER:
But before you become a man, there are certain ... things you must know about.

JEREMY:
Things, Father? What sort of things?

FATHER:
You must know how you came to be. Gertrude?

JEREMY:
Must Mother be present, Father?

FATHER:
Of course. How else would you expect me to demonstrate?

JEREMY:
What?

MOTHER ENTERS.

FATHER:
On your knees, Gertrude.

MOTHER KNEELS.

JEREMY:
Oh! Sweet Jesus!

FATHER:
Indeed, my boy.

FATHER KNEELS NEXT TO MOTHER. THEY CLASP THEIR HANDS IN PRAYER.

FATHER:
Dear Lord, please send us a child in the next 12 months or so. Amen.

THEY BOTH STAND.

FATHER:
There we are?

JEREMY:
Is that it?

FATHER:
Oh, no, no, no, dear boy. Soon a bubble will start to grow inside your mother. When it reaches a certain size, she will go to visit your great aunt Matilda. There the bubble will pass harmlessly through her epidermis and float gently to land beneath a gooseberry bush. Then a couple of days later, your baby brother will emerge from the bubble and Mother shall bring him home.

JEREMY:
Is this true, Mother?

MOTHER:
Yes it is, my dear. If you would both excuse me, I believe I can feel the bubble forming.

FATHER:
Of course, Gertrude. Come along, Jeremy. Now you must learn how to exploit the working classes.

THEY GO TO LEAVE.

MOTHER:
Oh, Jeremy! Would you be a dear and summon Chivers from the garden? Inform him I require his assistance again and tell him he won't need his 'special' wellingtons.

ENDS