i need to call my guru –

I forgot my new mantra.

new year greetings

Mes amis boredofjammians

Have a splendid new year celebration. I wish only that I could be at your houses celebrating with you (mainly as I’m assuming you have free whisky).

In 2010, we’ll be:

Living on the moon
All motoring around in flying cars
Wearing silver jumpsuits
Eating food from little foil packets (to be fair we do already, it’s called “take away”)
Employing  robotic home helpers
Teleporting everywhere (except Cronenberg fans)
Solving the energy crisis — and more! Just hang around to find out what!

(Shit, that’s “The Jetsons”, ain’t it?)

We will not be:

Held to ransom by our increasingly arrogant governmentalists
Told that for our freedom to continue, we need to have some freedoms taken away
Taxed beyond tax. And beyond!
Seeing energy and food bills increase
Listening to yet more shite from Simon Cowell and his chums
Falling back into recession
Spending more billions keeping bankers in nice suits and cigars
Seeing Take That finally reunite with David Walliams
Seeing fuckwit voters in the UK decide that extreme right wing candidates are what this country needs
Relying on the NHS to be clean

Now fuck off 2009, you were a total waste of my time.

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Right, Mr Director man, David Cameron, whatever your name is, explain this:

On a world which appears to be mainly GREEN, why are the main inhabitants MASSIVELY TALL AND OBVIOUSLY BRIGHT BLUE?

Survival of the fittest ring any bells, shit-for-brains?

the gordon the ramsay’s(tm) the f the word(tm)(c)

Ingredients

some really cheap “cooking bacon bits” from Tescos
sage, torn
white pepper
chilli powder
mustard powder
onion powder
garlic powder
ground coriander
an egg
some oil
some butter
salt, black pepper
a tomato
a gherkin or 7
mashed potato

Method

Cook the hell out of the bacon bits in the oil, they’re cheap and need telling.
Add all the herbs and spices whilst the bacon is frying and mix it up good, biatch.
Drop in a knob of butter, just to keep the calories up.
Slice the tomato and when the bacon is getting good and crispy, drop that in to cook.
When that’s nearly done, drop in the egg to cook. You can leave it fry or mix it so it scrambles.
Once done, season with the black pepper and salt if it’s needed, to be honest it might not.

Dump the whole lot onto a big pile of mash, with gherkins on the side, and eat the bastard.

the 2009 boredofjam christmas e-cards sont arrivee…

Hello reader.

Salutations of great Christmas joy to you and yours. Get your free* e-cards here.

card 1
card 2
Update: card 3
card 4 (yet to come)

Also, don’t forget all previous years’ entries: voila, voila, voila, voila, voila, and this one cos it makes me laugh still, and I drew it.

*Yes, free.

Edit for Mme Rostance’s sake, she’d have killed me had she seen it…

i had to blog this

cos it takes Apple Mac software beyond the “think different” stage, past ” the funnest iPod ever” stage, and on to the very summit of Mac-related toss I’ve ever encountered.

Prepare yourselves, one and all, for Ommwriter (now forever known as “Omgwankery”).

Here.

If you want to write a text file, can I suggest Notepad? Or TextWriter? Or whatever it’s called in your toytown OS?

Now fuck off and go lick that picture of Steve Jobs you insufferable cunts.

*Perhaps this is the reason Apple advert copywriters can’t seem to work out how to use the goodest adjectives and nouns proper.

bellowhead song generator

In a selfless act of writing quite a long, complicated and blindingly funny entry for the 7 Bellowhead fans who have internet access on their hurdie-gurdies, I present:

The All New 2009 10-Point Bellowhead Song Creator

Section 1: The Lyric
(Fill in all of the below)

1.  Choose a name (surname, first name combo):
2.  Are you Old or Young?:
3.  Are you happy or sad?:
4.  Pick a profession:
5.  Pick a town (preferably on the coast, or in Norfolk):
6.  Pick a mode of transport:
7.  Pick an object or person your character would desire:
8.  Walk or Run?:
9.  Pick somewhere to go:
10. The name or profession of your arch nemesis:
11. A type of beverage:
12. A fate:

Section 2: The Orchestration
(Pick 3 from here)

1.  Wah wah pedal on bazouki
2.  Orchestral hit
3.  Funky drum break
4.  Sudden tempo slow-down
5.  Apparent band chaos resolving back into tunefulness
6.  A household object/child’s toy used as an instrument
7.  Sousaphone solo
8.  Random flattened notes from horn section
9.  Harmonies
10. Violin stab

Section 3: The Theatrics
(Pick 3 from here)

1.  Everyone wears a pink tie
2.  Everyone wears an ear-ring
3.  Pointing instrument to draw attention to particular section of band
4.  Complaining there’s not enough room on stage
5.  Vertical dancing (jumping)
6.  Using an Olde Englishe-style voice
7.  Playing ‘statues’ for one bar
8.  Smoke machine
9.  Large flowers sticking out of instruments
10. Singing in a drunken manner
11. Running across the stage behind the drumkit
12. Suddenly leaving the stage

And Now:

For your Exclusive Bellowhead Song, fill in the gaps using your answers from above:

Introduction: <Orchestration option 1>

Oh I am <young/old> <name>
A <happy/sad> <profession> am I
And in my life as a <profession>
I find a little <beverage> goes down well of a day!
A little <beverage> goes down well!

But wait! Here comes my one desire
The thing I desirest most
A pretty little <object of desire>
The prettiest thing from here to the Northern coast

<Orchestration option 2> whilst <Theatrics option 1>

Oh come with me, oh pretty <object of desire>
And together we will be
Away on a <mode of transport> we will go
From here to <somewhere to go> we will go, you and me

And so my <object of desire> set forth and <walked/ran> away
And off we went to <somewhere to go> a life we planned to make
When suddenly upon us came <nemesis>, a swarthy sort of cove
And charmed by lovely <object of desire>, an axe between us drove

<Orchestration option 3>

I went a took a drink of <beverage>
And then I took some more
My <object of desire> was gone
So I took drinks three and four
But then I thought quite long and hard
’bout <nemesis>‘s evil tricks
And so called out to the barman
And had drinks five and six!

<Theatrics option 2> <Orchestration option 1>

Ashamed am I at drinks seven and eight
I worked out <nemesis>‘s terrible fate
Would I kill and stab and murder?
Hang him high from up above?
Make him walk the plank?
Drown in a tank? All for my true love.

<Theatrics option 3>

But no my dear old friends, my plan was simple
All I’d do is <fate> my nemesis til he was dead
and show them that
<young/old> <name> should not be messed with
And they’d die with jus in bello in their head.

<Theatrics 1, 2 and 3 all at the same time> <One random Orchestration from the list>

never seen in a room together

• Welsh-dull-music-pusher James Dean Bradfield
• Likely-to-incite-unrest comedian Mark Thomas
• Northern not-Mark-Radcliffe Stuart Maconie

ideal christmas gift idea

Buz mentioned to me that he wants a Nintendo Wii for Christmas. Buz is a gamer, so this rather confused me.

“Buz,” I said. “You are a gamer. You should want a Playbox or a Station 360. Why oh why do you want a Wii?”

Buz said, “I have a gaming platform. It is my PC.”

“Mmm.” I agreed. Buz plays games on Windows. Like sol.exe and MineSweeper.

“So I just want a thing to play Wii Tennis on.”

“Ah yes,” I said. “Help Mario as he struggles through Half a league/half a league/Half a league onward/All in the valley of Death/Rode the six hundred.”

We laughed. We are scholars.

pub discussions (in a series of discussions)

Last night at the pub, BigBlueSturge asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I said an astronaut, a fireman who rescues burning kittens from trees*, and something else I can’t remember as I was drunk (but not that drunk**).

Obviously, life chucks shit at all your aspirations and here I am a lowly computer fixerer. Still, one needs to have a goal to focus on, something to attain, something that, at your funeral, people can think, “Wow, he actually did that!”***

So, readers, what do you want to do when you get sent into the world to “make it big”?

*Last night, it would seem, the worms were not in the right author. But think of those poor burning kittens!
**In case Mother is reading.
***There was further discussion along related lines, but perhaps that is for another post.