Why Are All These Boys In My Yard!?

Picture the scene. A  peaceful Saturday afternoon. Friends gather to enjoy some good times and some delicious beverages, before heading to the cinema to watch X-Men: Days Of Future Past. What could be more perfect?

SUDDENLY, DISASTER STRIKES!

My Sibling Unit (In-Law Version) bought himself a delicious bottle of Frijj’s fine Honeycomb Choc Swirl, shook the bottle and opened. DAIRY CARNAGE ENSUED! A veritable torrent of tasty milk treats inexplicably spewed forth from the bottle, showering him in sticky white…oh, I appear to have given myself the horn. One minute…

*ONE MINUTE LATER*

Back. Anyhoo, @miester84 is now wearing a borrowed t-shirt as @insensitivemind washes his soiled garments and myself and @bigfairyqueen can only sit and stare, shocked by the events which we have witnessed. Well, that’s not ALL we’re doing. You see, we’ve just emailed Frijj…

Dear Mr Frijj

I am MOST displeased. A few moments ago, I bought one of your delicious Honeycomb Choc Swirl milkshakes to enjoy with friends before attending a very important public event.

I shook the bottle, AS ADVISED, before opening. Imagine my horror as what I can only describe as a dairy volcano erupted from the black-clad plastic, covering me, the patio and my favourite battered green plastic chair.

I have now had to borrow a shirt from my friend and am concerned that given the change in my usual scent, my mother will now reject me and I will be be forced to die alone in the wilds of Yeovil.

I expect considerate compensation for this truly disturbing event and can provide pictorial evidence on request.

Please be aware that the images may shock the feint of heart, as I look as though I have been involved in a twelve hour bukkake marathon.

Yours sincerely,
@miester84

 

"Why am I drippingz vith goo?"
“Why am I drippingz vith goo?”

Hopefully they can resolve this matter and we can move on, putting this terrible day behind us.
The memories, I fear, will be with me forever.

Dear ITV…

Once again, I have gathered my creative writing team. Sibling Unit (@KimmyMc1908), Partner Of Sibling Unit (@Miester84) and Marital Unit have assisted me in the compilation of a list of possible new television shows. Having previously sent some suggestions to Channel Four (which they completely failed to pick up on, the short-sighted fools), this time we have assembled a list of frankly fan-bloody-tastic show ideas and i’ve winged them off in an email to ITV.

I’m sure you’ll agree that some high-fallutin’ tellybod is certain to be in touch before long. If nothing else, they’ll have to let me know about the restraining order…

Dear Wossname

My name is James McLellan and I am one quarter of the world’s greatest television show thinktank. Along with my wife,
sister and brother-in-law (who, despite my being born and bred in Somerset, are not one and the same person), I have
compiled a list of possible new television shows which I am certain you will want to develop. If you are interested in any
or all of the ideas listed below, we accept payment in the form of shitloads of money.

Britain’s Got Talons – Falconeering experts the length and breadth of the nation gather to compete for the title of Best
Falconer. Judges include Bill Oddie, Keith Harris with Orville and that Dennis guy from snooker because he looks like an
owl

Britain’s Got Balance – Very agile people from all across the UK gather to compete for the title of Best Stander Upper.
Judges include Naomi Campbell, that drunk guy from the Youtube video who fell over while being questioned by the police
and any footballer

Britton’s Got Talent – A show about Fern Britton. She’s lovely, she is.

The Eggs Factor – Simon Cowell tells some eggs that they’re shit

The Axe Factor – In which terrible singers are brutally dismembered by a rampaging killer.

The SPF Factor – In which ginger people are smothered in Ambre Solaire and subjected to varying degrees of light

I’m A Celebrity, No, Honestly. Don’t Laugh. I Am. For The Love Of God, Notice Me. I Crave Attention. – Same show,
different name

I’m A Celebrity? Get Out Of Here! – Z list celebrities who have long forgotten that they were ever known to anyone outside
their immediate family are amazed to find themselves suddenly on television, eating rat anus pie.

I’m Celibate, Get Me Out Of Here – Abstinant, god-fearing young folk are horrified to find themselves in a seedy brothel.
Hosted by Angus Deaton.

I’m A Celiac, Get Me Out Of Here – Twelve poor buggers with gluten allergies are horrified to find themselves stranded in
Paul Hollywood’s kitchen.

Ant & Dec’s Saturday Night Getaway – The presenting duo finally abandon all pretense, accept their deepy held love for
another and shoot off for a romantic weekend. Good luck to ’em.

Text Satan – An annual telethon to raise funds for nefarious schemes worldwide, hosted by that bastard Piers Morgan.

Surprise Surprise – A sarcastic look at things which we really should have seen coming.

Surpress Surpress – Members of the public dance around sensitive subjects in front of hundreds of strangers.

Dancing With Lice – Irritable celebrities dance their way to success, whilst trying to deal with unbearable itching.

Dancing? Oh, Nice! – An incredibly enthusiastic chap called Gerald points out various types of dancing and is dashed happy
about it.

Dan Sings On Ice – Daniel O’ Donnell is sent to the North Pole to sing to penguins and ultimately freeze to death.

Splosh – Panel show in which contestants are judged on the sound made by their falling faeces. Judged by Dappy from N-
Dubz.

F/A CUP – A harrowing documentary following the trials and tribulations of a woman with an incredible breast asymmetry

Family Fart Tunes – Two families compete in a head-to-head musical bottom-burp off. Shitting one’s self equals instant
disqualification.

Ripping Point – Ben Shepherd hosts as contestants work in pairs, inserting discs into each others rectums in a bid to see
who can hold the most before being brutally torn asunder.

Dripping Point – ITV3 “Ripping Point Extra” style show, following the horrific damage done to our brave teams. Warning –
Contains scenes of unimaginable anal seepage.

The Pube – Challenge show centred around a sweaty groin.

The Tube – Challenge show centred around a sweaty groin.

The Lube – Challenge show centred around a slippery groin.

Dickinson’s Meal Deals – Like Wiltshire Farm Foods, only more orange.

Dickinson’s Really Dull – Light-hearted, This Is Your Life-esque special, in which people who have had the misfortune of
working with David Dickinson complain about what a fucking chore he is.

Dickinson’s Real. Deal With It – Horrified members of the public are informed that David Dickinson is not a character
created by ITV and attend regular therapy sessions to come to terms with the terrible news.

Gino’s Italians Escape – Gino D’campo struggles with immigration as his imprisoned kitchen staff head for the hills

60 & Minute: Makeover – A team of celebrity stylists give a short, old person a brand new look. Celebrity pilot featuring
Ronnie Corbett

Miss Carpal – An octogenarian sleuth deals with mysterious murder and crippling wrist pain.

Celebrity Jews – Comedy panel show with team captains Woody Allen and Billy Crystal, hosted by Barbra Streisand

The Alan Titchmarsh Show: After Dark – Same boring old twaddle, more nipples.

This Awning – A documentary following caravan enthusiasts.

This Mauling – In which Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby are badly injured by bears.

This Moaning – An entire show dedicated to that stupid bloody Hopkins woman.

This Mourning – Philip and Holly present a light hearted look at other peoples misery.

You’ve Been Maimed – Extreme version of the popular clip show featuring horrific injuries, often involving tigers.

You’ve Been Blamed – Our team of dedicated pranksters commit assorted horrific crimes and lay the blame at the feet of
unsuspecting members of the public, who are subsequently imprisoned.

Downton Rabbi – A look at the life of a Jewish holy man who inexplicably finds himself living below stairs in a post-
Edwardian household.

Enemadale – Following the lives of residents of a small rural community, all of whom suffer from severe intestinal
distress. Sponsored by Imodium.

Emmerdull – A more realistic look at village life in which absolutely fuck all happens.

Reincarnation Street – Following the lives, past lives and future lives of residents of a street somewhere in Croydon.

Coronation Treats – The incredibly ancient Mary Berry looks back at some of the delicious baked goods which she prepared
to celebrate the many coronations she has witnessed in her 800 years on this earth.

The Jeremy’s Piles Show – A documentary following the sad tale of one man and his horrendous haemorrhoids.

The I’ll Be A While Show – Where people take a long time to do stuff

Broad Church – A frankly cruel look at Charlotte Church’s weight, brought to you by the creative minds behind the Daily
Mail sidebar.

The Replacement Bus Service Children – A touching tale of a young family torn apart by war and British Rail’s complete
inability to stick a simple schedule

Midsomer Minor Ailments – An inept locum investigates as residents complain of feeling “a wee bit poorly” and “slightly
shitty”

Doc Martens – Following the lives of residents of a small fishing village who inexplicably fail to realise that their new
doctor is, in actual fact, a pair of boots.

CraCAW – Following the crime-fighting adventures of a hard boiled Glaswegian crow.

Inspect Remorse – Following the adventures of a no-nonsense police inspector who generally doubts that criminals are quite as sorry as they claim to be.

Inspect Yer Horse – A public service announcement to raise awareness of equine testicular cancer.

We’re going to be rich and famous and rich!

Hugs and kisses,

Jamie.

Every one a winner.

Hallowe’en Fun? Just Say No!

It’s half past nine in the morning and i’m already angry enough to fling kittens into a mincer. Why?

Give this a read.

That’s a story from the Westcountry’s finest paper of news, the Western Gazette, detailing the Avon & Somerset constabulary’s hard stance on kids looking adorable and enjoying sweeties. Well, that’s how I read it.

Look, I know exactly what the problem is. Every year, while kids go from door to door, being unbearably cute and asking for chocolate, there are a few little bastards round these parts who hammer on doors, ask for cigarettes and cash and then wing a handful of eggs at any house which refuses them. The problem is that the police are entirely too lazy to deal with the perpetrators, so would rather cast a shadow of misery over the entirety of Hallowe’en.

The line which really grips my shit is “We would just like to remind people that if they intend to trick and treat – which is not endorsed by the constabulary”. Not endorsed by the constabulary. First of all, it’s trick OR treat, not trick and treat, you feckless halfwits. But more importantly, the fact that it’s “not endorsed” by the po-po is a polite way of saying “we would MUCH rather you didn’t do it at all”.

Balls to the police and their endorsement, or lack thereof. Balls to the little swine who’ve made a point of ruining Hallowe’en for kids who just want to blag enough free chocolate to send them into a diabetic coma. Balls to whoever designed that poster because that font is far too cheerful for such a miserable sentiment and finally, balls to anyone who prints it off.

Don’t misunderstand me, you’re more than welcome to ignore trick or treaters if you so wish. I’ll not quibble with that, because that’s personal choice. But by putting that poster in your window you’re MORE likely to get your house egged, trees covered in toilet rolls, tyres slashed, whatever. Because to the kind of git who goes out on Hallowe’en armed with a dozen eggs and a can of spray paint, that sign might as well read “MISERABLE TOSSER LIVES HERE! PLEASE DESTROY MY HOUSE!”

If you’re not against the idea of kids indulging in a bit of harmless fun, i’ve done my own poster. Stick one of these up in your window, if you like.

HalloweenPoster

Download a copy of this hastily thrown together abomination here.

If you do get anyone pushing their luck, call the police. If they’re not too busy designing a “Fuck Christmas” poster, i’m sure they’ll show up.

EDIT:

It has been pointed out to me by a few Twitter folk that the report states that extra police will be working on August 31st. That’s fabulous. They’ll be able to deal with any issues surrounding the Moldovan National Language Day. Not sure how it helps with Hallowe’en, mind…