Monday, 29 September 2008

Store Wars : Aisle One - The Ketchup Menace

I was as suprised as the next person to find out that Forest Gump was a zombie, but I digress...

Last night whilst flicking through the 3 channels I have here in my "bat cave" I came upon an advert, an advert for Sainsbury's tomato ketchup.

From what I can remember from my drug enduced state the advert had a family round a dinner table with the lower class fare of chips I suppose. The dad wants some ketchup, grabs the sainsbury's one on the table and is unsure of it's authenticity, maybe he had a bad experience before with some store brand ketchup (where it was infact 1% tomato and 99% acid) and it all ended up with the deaths of his first family, so he decides not to go through the trauma again and doesn't want the ketchup.
Then sainsburys tell us that even though there product MAY contain high acidity levels, it's at least 20p cheaper than the leading brand (*cough* Heinz) and we're treated to the dad's kids now teasing the dad by not giving him the ketchup.
I'm sure after the camera stops the dad punches his son in the face, and the family prepare for another night of abuse from there alcoholic father.

I had to goto Tescos today for lunch, after being too scared to make myself a lunch today thanks to the ghost that now lives in my fridge, and on the way in I spied a sign stating that there ketchup was the cheapest.

So it seems the impeding financial crisis has made the supermarkets bring Ketchup into the fray, I had no idea that ketchup was such a competitive market, and how long will it be before Asda follows suit and brings out there free ketchup!?!?

I asked Connifer, a Sainsbury's employee to comment on the latest advert. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to understand the Sainsburyish, as I am only fluent in Teconian and Morrisan who communicate through Morris Dancing, not pretty. Luckily there was a translater on hand who translated the clicks and beeps that Connifer made. Apparantly Connifer didn't know anything about ketchup, but did tell me that one of the original Sainsbury's founders was fired as he used to ride his bike through the store.

Anyway, get back to whatever it is your aren't doing!

Tuesday, 23 September 2008


I'm a fan of Picnics, not the chocolate bar of the same name as they contain nuts, and I don't like nuts ever since that encounter I had in Poland with an old lady and a jar of peanut butter, long story, to cut it short it ended in world war II, which is odd as I've never been to Poland and I wasn't alive at the beginning of world war II, but I digress...

When it's a nice sunny day here in Kefeklahania I like to take my long suffering lady friend out for a picnic, she will spend the morning preparing a delightful hamper whilst I kill germans and play WWII games on my xbox370 (yes I have the next model up!)

So we will find a nice spot and lay a blanket on the supple land before opening the hamper and gorging ourselves on it's delicious innards. But when I open that hamper, it triggers off an alarm in the bowels of the earth, where Mother Nature sits there in a leather chair stroking her pussy (cat). As soon as the alarm goes off Mother Nature presses the button which launches every annoyance possible at me to stop my enjoyment of a lovely day.

I like the outdoors, but I hate nature. She always spoils a good day! Picnics are the worst though as not only am I swarmed by ants trying to get my delicious goodies, but she sends in the big guns. WASPS.

I don't mind Bees, they have a purpose. They help make Sugar Puffs, and other honey based treats, even though I hate bee excrement as much as I hate Mr. Kipling (the bastard with all his pies and cakes!) but Wasps... they have no purpose but to hurt. I'd rather have a spider come near me than a Wasp, and I have mild arachnophobia.

I'm fed up of Nature literally pissing on my bonfires as well, so I am writing a very harsh letter to the goverment to see what the plan on doing about her. I will let you know what they reply with as soon as I get it.

Guilty Pleasure

It's that time of the year again, and no I'm not talking about my yearly bath, I'm talking about Strictly Come Dancing, which wasn't a porno version of Strictly Ballroom as I had hoped!

I've been following the show for the last few years, and now my saturday nights are spent hanging naked upside down in my cave, watching the celebrities dance with vigor. But the reason I watch it isn't to see the lovely dancing, or for Bruce's jokes. It's for one reason and one reason only.

It's live and anything can happen, including the inevitable death of Brucey, or is it inevitable?

Bruce Forsythe (I apologise to all concerned if that is spelt wrong) is a legend of course, and he's still going strong, which for a man of his age seemed strange, so I thought "wait a minute, theres something not quite right here".

To the untrained eye he is but an old man (entertaining?) the masses, but to a trained idiot like myself, he's something more. A vampire maybe? It's true, I've never seen Bruce in the daytime, but surely there would be a string of bodies from his victims littering the souless halls of the BBC. Maybe he goes into a cryogenic chamber as soon as they finish the show? Maybe he found the Holy Grail?

Well, I can reveal to you all now, that the answer is none of the above. I spoke to Old Man Withers who "haunted" the abandoned theme park outside of town until some meddling kids screwed him over when he was just about to sign a land development deal. Old Man Withers and Bruce (who then went by the name of Tamara) used to work on the same carnival back in the good old days. According to Withers, Bruce like so many of us, was approached by the devil and offered him an extended life and a BBC contract for Bruce's soul. So he agreed.

So there we have it, he sold his soul like so many of us, to the big red man. Unfortunalty I sold MY soul to Santa for a Transformers lunchbox, it was worth it. Food tastes so much better when eating it out of Optimus Prime's groin.

Monday, 15 September 2008

Alien Invasion

Stop whatever you are doing... well, actually don't as at the moment you are reading what I am writing, so if you stop that then you won't know what I'm about to tell you and it's rather important as you can probably guess from the Title of this blog entry.

I shall begin at the beginning, a very good place to start if "The Sound Of Music" is to be believed. My long suffering lady friend had bought a multi-pack of crisps, a seemingly ordinary thing to do, and I picked (at random as to not make the other crisps jealous) from the multi-pack, a packet of Space Raiders. Crisps, I've not had for some time.

I consumed the meager sized pouch of pickled onion flavoured alien shaped maize treats in a heart beat, and on finishing examined the packet to see how long I had left to live... and that's when I saw it...

A public service warning the size of two stamps on the back of the packet, informed me that there is an alien invasion commencing, and the only way to fight off these intruders is to crunch Space Raiders...

I couldn't believe it, there had been nothing on the news regarding the invasion and why would the government put such an important message on the back of a packet of alien shaped maize treats???

I called MI5 about this and they threatened me with legal action for taking up there valuable time, then it hit me. Why wasn't it on the news? Why don't we know about it?

The answer my friends is this: The Government are in on it.

Yes, the Goverment must have been infiltrated at the highest levels, and are dumbing down our knowledge of our impending enslavement!! Only the brave individuals at KP Snacks are warning us of potential devestation at the hands of some alien overlords!!

I urge each one of you to do the same as I have, construct a bomb shelter in your garden, buy every packet of Space Raiders from your local supermarket, and start crunching. My long suffering lady friend Lou wouldn't join me and Gerry Anderson in my alien/bear proof shelter, so I had to subdue her by knocking her out with some mini-cheddars.

If the Aliens destroy the planet I have to be able to re-populate the planet, and even though Gerry Anderson is up for it, I don't think he has the anatomy to house a child... maybe I should get onto Danny DeVito... He seemed to be able to do it to Arnie in JUNIOR... hmmm....

Friday, 12 September 2008

Microwave Antics

Today I decided to have a microwaveable meal from Tesco's. After walking past the cake Isle and "accidently" knocking over and destroying there Mince Pies, I arrived at the "Ready meal" section and picked up something "tasty" for my lunch. (mental note, don't use as many "quote" marks in a "sentence" again)

However, as I put it in the microwave I noticed a button on the front of the microwave. The Button read "STOP TIME".

I had no idea that microwaves were that sophisticated that they could stop time itself!!
Fearful of what the overlord who I work for would do with our time stopping device I did the only logical thing, I destroyed the microwave with my bear hands, yes I said Bear not Bare.
After successfully defending my home from Bear Attacks last weekend, I made a pare of gauntlets from the carcass's and used them to smash the powerful time stopping device.

I then buried the remains of the microwave in seperate locations, so that's what I've been doing today, and they say my job is dull!!!

No sleep = this post

Dogs are no longer man's best friend.

The dogs have been left out in the cold and our new friends are the little black/grey boxes that sit in our studies/bedrooms/dungeons/panic room. I speak of COMPUTERS!!! Sure one day in the not so distant future they will rebel and kill us all, but for the moment, they're pretty fun to have around.

Computers have become our best friends, sure there are things you can do with a dog that you can't do with a computer, and in some countries you can even marry your dog, but we don't speak of those countries as my lawyer Dr. Stanley is already dealing with several lawsuits, one of them being against Mr. Religion.

I find myself (and let out a sigh of relief as I hate loosing myself) in "REAL" life, missing certain functions that I use on my personal computer (or "PC" as some of those crazy hippies are calling them nowerdays)

Two of the functions on my keyboard I would really like to be made into reality for christmas, and I've already e-mailed Bill Gates to see if it's possible.

Delete: There have been times in the past where I have met someone who I don't like, or want to get rid of some evidence (body/drug mule/porn/Pokemon) but I can't seem to hide them well enough, it would be great if you could just erase them from history just like you do with the press of a key.

UNDO: The best function ever made. Undo. We all make mistakes, be it sleeping with someone or something you shouldn't, saying something outloud that was never meant for human ears, writing an irrate message to the goverment in a drunken stupor or just killing someone then realising you had the wrong address (I'll check the post code next time) and having an undo button would be great... I'd end up using the undo button to create a freakish Ground-Hog day reality, where every night, I'd just press the undo button, and re-live the day, giving myself (technically) immortality.

So, if you too want a delete function or undo button in your lives, send an e-mail to:

Thursday, 11 September 2008

Xmas come early?

Santa comes but once a year (I think Mrs Claus is a frigid bitch) and last time I checked that time tied in with Jesus's birthday, the 25th of December.
So why oh why does Tesco's deem it appropriate to sell Mince Pies in September? Mince Pies are christmas treats, not all year treats. If you could get them all year they'd not be that special. But obviously Tescos is wanting to beat all it's other competitors (ASDA, Morrisons, Sainsbury's, Count Dracula) to the post by getting it's xmas stock out asap.
But this is what I don't get, they've got Mince Pies in for xmas, but nothing for Halloween. Have they forgotten the overly commercialised poorly celebrated tradition that is Halloween? Or do they view Xmas as the next BIG event?
To answer, yet another of my questions, I spoke to Tracey Gorbochov, a tesco's employee about this. Tracey grunted twice which meant she understood the question, and scratched the floor, signalling that it was a poorly planned marketing decision.
It's a good job I speak Tesconian!

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

Another fruitless question

One day there was Mr. Religion, and he told everyone the universe was created by an etheral being and let's not ask any questions about it, but just have faith. Things were going well for Mr. Religion, until a new guy moved into the neighbourhood. His name was Mr. Science, and he drove a Honda.
Mr. Science turned up with all these things called facts, and has been trying to disprove Mr. Religion for millenia.

The Bible, we all know of it, have either read or been read parts of it, maybe seen the movie, laughed at it's inaccuracies and wondered why Dinosaurs and Aliens were left out of it?

Mr. Religion would have you believe that Mr. Science planted that evidence for people to find, and that we are the only people in the whole universe, but when I was at the natural history museum, a young boy named Gustafahoff asked me "Why are there no dinosaurs in the bible?" I asked him to mind his own business and walked off, but it made me think, why are there no dinosaurs in the bible?

So I got in touch with my old friend Professor Katz, who is no longer with Oxford University due to constant harrasment. After breaking into his old office, I hacked his computer and found out that he was staying at his holiday home in Vermont. Once in Vermont, I fought a polar bear, drank my weight in moutain dew and then confronted the Professor on the issue. Professor Katz told me "I haven't any idea, would you please put the gun down and leave me alone!?"

As Mr. Science's representative didn't know the answer, I thought that maybe Mr. Religion's representative would know. Unfortuantley The Pope is a little harder to get hold of thanks to the restraining order he put on me, and I can't stand of holy land after that pact I made with the devil, so the answer, like many of the answers I seek, will remain a mystery... but here's a nice picture I drew, which explains why the Martians are so pissed at us.

After Doomsday

So we're still alive... for now.

The Large Hadron Collider in Sweden (not to be confused with the Large Hardon Collider in Amsterdam) was turned on today and didn't create a black hole, but now it's up and running we can all live in constant fear of a lovely black hole death.

I wish someone would have told me that the chances of demise were that slim, as I did some things last night that will come back and bite me. I wont go into details but the words "Killing" and "Spree" give you some kind of idea of what went on...

Luckily I did get time to bury the evidence, but am hoping that the Large Hadron Collider kills us before Lou and I do the garden! Not because she'll find the bodies, but because I can't be arsed to do gardening, death via Black Hole sounds more fun than Gardening, unless it envolves Pinata...

Friday, 5 September 2008

Some questions... answered

I checked my e-mail today you'll be pleased to know, and amongst the usual dross (telling me I need a bigger penis, a harder penis, no penis or another penis) I had 2 e-mails from "fans" asking a question each, so I thought I'd answer them here.

Audrey Hippobottom, 13 from Scarborough, asks:
Did World War II really happen?

Now on looking at the question the answer seems pretty simple, a resounding YES! It did happen if video games, historical evidence and war movies are to be believed. But to make sure, I asked Monty Greuber (No relation to the Die Hard Gruebers) a world war II veteran if it happened.
Unfortunatly Monty's memory isn't what it used to be and he told me that he can't remember much of the war at all... does that mean that infact it may not have happened, maybe the government just used mass hypnosis so that everyone would end up disliking the Germans as much as they dislike the french?

Larry Leopardthigh, 48 from Long Itchington (found next to Short Scratchington) asked:
If you had to be a breakfast cereal mascot who would you choose to be out of "Honey Monster" "Tony the Tiger" and "Coco The Monkey"?

Well what you're really asking is what cereal do I like the most, as all three of them only eat their brand of cereal. They have it for breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner!

So, Honey Monster is straight out the equation, sure he's probably a hit with the lady as he's hung like a horse, but Sugar Puffs after the first 2 bowls taste like sugared cardboard (and I should know after spending two years living on the streets of Bournville, where everything is sugar coated except the black hearts of the residents!!!)

Coco the Monkey sounds like fun, I mean you get to swing about with your mates, and it's a pleasent enough tasting cereal. To change it up a bit you could suck all the chocolate off the coco pops before putting them in your bowl giving you rice crispies. And where the hell is Coco going to get all this bloody milk!?!? (well not bloody milk, that'd just be wrong) But the main reason it's a no no is the fact that recently Coco's been plagued by crocodiles, I mean you could never go for a swim for fear of being eaten/gang raped. And how selfish IS Coco, why the hell couldn't he share the coco puffs with the crocodiles anyway? These advertising tycoons need to answer me, I think they'll be joining Gerry Anderson, when I find where I put him...

Tony the Tiger it is then. Sure he has tooth cancer from years of sugary neglect and he's on the endangered species list, but Tigers are cool! Look at the Tamil Tigers... they're my favourite football team.

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Hidden Treasure

Thanks to the wonders that be "Eon" I am still on an electric meter at home. That's right folks, it's like a pay as you go phone, but when you run out of credit on your phone you can't text, when you run out of credit on your electric meter... people die.

So last night, realising that the electric meter was on an all time low (It had been binge drinking and slept with his brothers girlfriend, you can't get much lower than that) I decided to set my mobile phone's alarum (Alarum sounds better than alarm any day)

After 3 hours of going through menu's, reading the instructions and scowering the internet (all the time worrying the electric would cut out) I managed to set the phone's alarum. Then I turned my attention to my actual alarum clock, which is hooked up to the mains.

Why have an alarum that's hooked upto the mains you may or may not ask? Well, the one before my curent alarum clock, woke you up to a cock-a-doodle-doo, but when the batteries wore down, the cock-a-doodle-doo sounded more like some kind of cat/chicken monster that was after your soul. It sounded like the last noise you'd ever hear before being eaten by something particulary nasty. I woke up many a morning petrified of the sound of it. In the end I sold it to Dreamworks film studios's sound department, to voice a monster in one of there future films.

My alarum clock was purchased about 5 years ago, it sends you to sleep with the sounds of the seas side, or the sound of being in a rural place with crickets going off, or the sounds of the rainforest (which always make me need the toilet, who'd have thunk it that the sound of running water would do that?)

So I upturned my lil buddy to see if you could put batteries in the bottom, and low and behold you can. So I opened up the little slot to see what kind of batteries you can put in... and I found something I least expected.... well no, it wasn't what I least expected, I mean I would have least expected to find a minature village of talking horses. What I did find though, was £15!

A ten pound note and a five pound note, scrunched up.

What... the... hell?

I've had that alarum for 5 years, and never once remember putting £15 in there! I didn't even know you could put batteries in it. So now my mind is in overdrive trying to figure out where the hell the money came from.

I mean I took the alarum with me when I stayed round friends houses, and when I went travelling around the world, but I doubt anyone would have stuffed there life savings in there. Maybe my alarum is a drop off point for the local drug dealers, one person puts in some drugs, the other picks up the drugs and puts the money in. Does that mean I have drug money? £15 worth of drug money? Will the cops be after me?

Well, then another thought entered my head, maybe I put the money in there. But I can't remember doing it, so maybe I've not done it yet... Maybe in the "future" I create a time machine and travel back in time to give myself £15.

But why would I go to all that trouble for a meager ammount... Unless there is something I need to spend the money on, a company I need to invest in, or a homeless person I need to give the money to, who will then clean up his act and find a cure for cancer. Maybe the £15 is what I need to start funding my time-travel research program?

If I don't make the right decision, I could doom us all!!!!

Wednesday, 3 September 2008

What did John Tracy do?

International Rescue!!!
The most action packed, death defying job you could ever hope to have. The Thunderbirds save countless millions every year, and each member must get great satisfaction from there jobs and are adored by women the planet over...

But what about John?

John Tracy, for those of you who don't know, is the Thunderbird who lives on Thunderbird 5 (A space station) completly isolated from the rest of the world, just monitoring distress signals.

Surely with all the technological prowess that went into building the various vehicles, the island itself and all the gadgetry they had, they could have just made the computer onboard Thunderbird 5 monitor distress calls and forward them onto Jeff in his cosy playboy office, and John could have been an extra pair of hands.

Maybe Brains came up to Jeff Tracy and pointed this fact out, but Jeff had read too many books or seen too many films about how evil Artificial Intelligence can become? Or maybe John did something.

Maybe John, when he was studying at Harvard University, became a little too fond of the other men on the course and had an illict affair with the president of the united state's son, so to stop a scandal Jeff blasted his son off into space. Or John might have come home one day and found Jeff having his fun with Lady Penelope and Brains, and to shut him up, blasted his son off into space. Or perhaps John was just a really mean drunk?

Whatever happened, whatever he did, the poor sod was left to rott in outer space, whilst his brothers and father lived a hedonistic lifestyle. I'm suprised John didn't go stir crazy up there, with no other company but himself, and started to walk around naked and make sculptures from his poo? Or became bitter and decided to destroy the entire world from up-above? Or maybe he was just a really big pervert and spent his days watching people have sex from his observation booth?

Well I wanted to know, and who better to ask than Gerry Anderson. He didn't return any of my phone calls or reply to my e-mails!!! I thought that was a tad rude, so I went to his house, broke through his security (a jack russell) and kidnapped him, he's now tied up in my basement... wait... I don't have a basement... where the hell did I put him??

Well, I better figure out soon, as I've got his heart medicine...

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

The Replacement Cow

I turned on my tv last night and during a "comercial interlude" (Did I spell that correctly? Well I know I spelt THAT correctly, I meant Commerical... is it two m's or one m? Answers on the back of a postcard to : Adamicus 3rd, 16 Han Solo Ave, Kumquat, Kefeklhania)

I happened upon the new (and improved?) munch bunch advert. Now forgive me for being stupid, no please forgive me... But doesn't "Bunch" imply more than one? I mean the old Munch Bunch crew consisted of a "bunch" of fruit... Now however, they've removed these (scary?) fruit and replaced them with... a cow. And not a "bunch" of cows, just the one generic humanoid cow. (Which I find scarier than a "bunch" of talking fruit!)

Right... So the main draw to a fruit flavoured yoghurt is that it's got calcium in it, every kid's favourite ingredient.

Damn there collective capatilist hides! Stop trying to sell stuff to the Adults! When I was a kid, parents were pressured into buying things for us children, with the new generation of children missing out on this, they are being robbed of the heritage!!!

This is the Chocco Krispies incident all over again, why can't they leave well enough alone... sure I've not had munch bunch since I was a kid, but it still angers my hollow soul when they kill off a part of my childhood like they did when Opal Fruits ceased to be...

But I don't care, we all know they're Opal Fruits, and it'll be a cold cold day in hell when I recognise "Starburst" as there "real" name!