I realise it’s utterly, totally wrong to have two images of John Prescott on my homepage at the same time, but I’m quite pleased with this one:
It’s all getting a bit old now, though. Who should I do next? Leave a comment – or email me at minnie.bygott@teasmaderevenge.com.
Oh dear. I was going to post more Prescott Photoshoppage, but I got this letter through the post today. I don’t know how it got here, since (a) I haven’t given you all my address, and (b) it was addressed to “Minnie, Teasmade Revenge, The Internet”. However, here it is:
Dear Minnie,
You haven’t written anything new about Boris recently, even though he went so far as to win London’s mayoral elections. Why have you made this shocking omission? Surely he remains the sexiest man in British politics by miles? Come the fuck on!
Best and most hearty wishes,
Mr. J. Bohnson
In a way, it’s a fair point. I mean, I wrote Bozzer an email months before the elections (when he was very much an outside choice) in a brazen attempt to get snazzy new Back Boris Oyster Card holders for me and my friends, and he was even so generous as to slip in a t-shirt and a load of stickers too. I shit you not. This really did occur. I can’t believe I didn’t mention it. Obviously, it’s not so hilariously funny now that he’s actually won, but still.
Anyway, if I recall correctly, I later found a note on my floor in Boris’s trademark scrawl. I am at least 99% sure it was from Boris (give or take a few decimal places). Unfortunately, when I woke up the next morning it was gone, but I shall attempt to record it from memory as well as I am able.
MY GRAND PLAN (TOP SECRET: NO GIRLS ALOWED)
1. Become Mayor of London, dispense of boot-wearing cat.
2. Get rid of horrid bendy buses so can cycle to skool the H of P without pesky mud getting on trousers.
3. Realise will now longer to abel to blame bad cycling on bendy buses, renege on pledge.
4. Maek friends with popular boys (Cameron et al). Might have to share toffees at lunchtime.
5. Strike Blair-Brown-style deal with Cammers, become PRI-MINISTER of the WHOLE OF ENGLAND and aslo Wales and things!!!
6. Go and speek nicely with that rather nice chap Geog Bush, pursuede him to stop killing those foreign chappies. Possible speech idea: “Geog old man, I do think it’s not on you killing all these foreign chappies. Hardly sportsmanlike, eh what? Oh noes I fell over.”
7. Everyone wil be rearly pleased
8. Buy new bycyle (red)
9. Get made president of the UNIVERS, even thoh evryone thinks I am to stupid to win. Ha! I will show them, what what! Old Bozzer is not one to be rekoned with! Ha!
10. Have tea with the Queen. Maybe even crumpets too. She is a top laydee.
11. Rest on Lawrells.
Well then. I suppose time will only tell as to whether this is truly a genuine artifact. Please don’t blame me if it really happens.
A friend of mine went on a date recently. Personally, I’ve never really been up for proper formal dates – they’re always so awkward and boring. I mean, the first date says so much about you – it’s all about judging people in a couple of hours, and frankly the moment a guy says “Let’s go for a meal – there’s this great little Italian restaurant…” I have already judged them. And not just because they had the bad taste to ask a fat chick out.
Let’s face it, there are a million billion places you could spend three hours in, so why pick a middle-of-the-road Italian / Chinese / Indian restaurant? It’s hardly imaginative, is it? So, in case any guys out there are reading, here are some less utterly banal suggestions.
Your local hospital
Why go to the theatre when you can go to an operating theatre instead? Let’s face it, more people like to watch a good old blood and guts horror film than a poncy West End play. It’s cheaper than you’d expect (all you’ll need to do is rent a couple of nurse’s uniforms / pretend to be worried relatives) and if you time it right you won’t even have to pay for food. Not that you’ll be wanting any. What’s more, your local A&E department isn’t just open for dinner dates – it’s an exciting 24-7 destination.
An air disaster
Increasingly popular due to an increase in terrorist activity, why not get involved in a plane crash together? You might be lucky enough to get a really close-up view of New York, for example, or end up stranded on a tropical island with unknown horrors lurking in the shadows. You might land atop a remote snowy mountain, living off the meat of your fellow passengers and slowly starving to death. Who knows? It’s truly the lucky dip of dates – what’s for sure is that nothing brings people together like an horrific life-threatening trauma.
Colonic irrigation
You might like the look of someone – you know, think they’re clean, well-shaven, nicely presented etc – but how can you really know what they’re like on the inside? That’s where colonic irrigation comes in, helping future life-mates really get to grips with their partner’s innermost thoughts and feelings bowel patterns. It’s all very well getting someone checked out for STDs, but how do you know they haven’t got worms? This works on so many levels. Oh yes, and again, nothing brings people together like an horrific life-threatening trauma.
A Scientology lecture
How secure is your partner in their convictions? It’s something worth thinking about – after all, if someone has it within them to become a cult-driven lunatic, it’s surely better to know sooner rather than later. Test them with a nice three-hour talk about thetans and Tom Cruise, and see how good their endurance skills are in the mental equivalent of close-up shotgun paintballing.
Greetings my lovelies. Last weekend and associated bank holiday were three days of glorious warmth: not too sunny, not too hot. Perfect. I was, of course, ill.
The moment I got well enough to stick my head out the door, my hair took on the appearance and texture of bit of well-used wire wool, chavs started taking off their clothes in public, small children started playing in the road, and slim good-looking people everywhere immediately started looking even better looking than before. Summer is really horrendously awful, and look – it’s finally rolled around again.
Anyone who is, like me, a fatty, will spend the next four months feeling the lard gruesomely creeping under their skin, cooking their muscles as it slowly obeys gravity and gets out where it can.
But never mind the fatties – I always really feel for the pensioners in summer. I mean, those guys hate being warm. They need actual government initiatives to get their lofts insulated, and they’re such frost junkies that every year, hundreds push themselves too far for that ultimate rush and end up dieing of pneumonia. Everyone knows it’s cruel to leave dogs in a hot car without at least rolling the window down a little bit, but pensioners are much older and more fragile than dogs.
So, while the rest of the country (especially us fatties) swelter under the burning rays, the least we can do is campaign for forced ice-baths for pensioners. You know, with Ice Wardens (much like Dog Wardens – loving this pensioner-dog analogy) patrolling the streets, sweeping up stray pensioners into vans and taking them straight to swimming pools full of ice.
Yes – people of Britain, we can make this a reality. Who’s up for making posters?
Users of the brilliant b3ta.com get set image challenges every week. This week it is to expand the Uxbridge English Dictionary, in a rather touching tribute to the late great Humphrey Lyttelton. I couldn’t resist…
A very modern plague continues to sweep the country: Solution enActment Dialect. For the uninitiated, that means Corporate Bullshit Talk (CBT).
Don’t get me wrong – it could be worse. While being a business means registering with Companies House here in Blighty, to Americans the term applies for any enterprise with a shitty, meaningless byline attached to it. On a recent trip, my friend and I discovered to our horror that our hotel’s logo/strapline thing was “The Hotel Affinia: Putting the emphasis on the ‘Ahhh’.” Until recently, I couldn’t see British establishments putting up with that crap. I mean, can you imagine? “The BBC: Putting the emphasis on the ‘Beeee’.” No, it wouldn’t make sense. That’s my point. It doesn’t have to – in fact, it seems better if it doesn’t make sense.
However, things are changing. Some CBT is becoming so prevalent that it’s slipping into daily use. People don’t just have think tanks any more. They have whole rooms called The Think Tank, and nobody even looks twice. For years, Private Eye has run a small column simply called Solutions, featuring its favourite CBT… solutions. The market has been saturated. It is clearly time for some new meaningless bullshit.
You will have noticed that other, inferior, websites are merely content to mindlessly criticise things they don’t approve of. Hardly constructive. Teasmade Revenge is made of sterner stuff than that. Therefore, I’d like to leak the latest memo from me to Grim Squeaker, which should lay open our clear-thinking linguisticalisation solution theories.
Dear Grim,
It has been brought to my attention that either yourself or a person of equal or greater cretinaceousment has been encouraging antideconstructionivision in the workplace. This is clearly not acceptable. Please be aware that in advancemention of this time framespace continuum-now, such closed-box behaviour will not be tolerated.
Teasmade Revenge Corp. is entering a new skyscape of development interface solutionment, and as such cannot afford to become complacementageous. Any examples of brown-skyish think-thoughting will be acted against with the most severely detrimental-asylum advance-back implement bubbles possible.
Laterz :)
Minnie
