Wednesday, June 28, 2006

This is amazing!

Sunday, June 25, 2006

An Amusing Pun By Bat. (Thanks Bat.)

It's the communist man, with pesto.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

My Violin

This is my violin. I use it to play things like 'The Peacock Followed the Hen' and the first bit of 'Passagalia' by Biber. I play them over and over again so as to get them louder. I'd never hang it out of the window to entice young women because it doesn't really belong to me.

I once had a woman in my room who was mightily impressed by my violin, but not so impressed with my violin playing.

When I play my violin cats come visiting from around the neighbourhood. I live on the first floor, which means they can't climb in through my window and try to mate with it. They look so sad sat on the pavement. Sometimes they sing back to me and we make a duet.

Violins are great.

When I've finished with the strings I hang them on my wall to make it look arty. If I loosen the hairs on my bow I can detach the 'frog' and pretend I'm fishing with it. Sometimes I sit watching the television and polish it. This is what I love doing. I polish it until it shines, then I look at it for a bit. Then I go fishing with my bow.

It has a fake label inside it that says it was made by Pagani in 1721. It wasn't, unless Pagani lived in England. I think it's really a Stradavarious, and someone stuck a fake label on it so as to put thieves off the scent. Recently I had the sound post moved, the bridge shaved and the top nut fixed so as to make it easier to play. It worked, but I don't yet sound like Stephane Grappelli.

This is Stephane Grappelli. He also plays the violin. He plays things like 'Avalon' and 'Blues for Musidisc'.

He's great.

One day, if I practice hard and eat the crusts on my bread, I will be able to play like Stephane Grappelli. Sugarcane Harris is also good, I would also like to play like him. At the moment I'm about as good as the bloke who sometimes stands outside Marks and Spencers in Ealing. He's OK, but he's no Stephane Grappelli.

The best thing about my violin is that it's old and beaten up. It looks really cool. The worst thing about my violin is that if I ever broke it, I would be sad.

I wander if readers can give me any tips on how I can sound like Stephane Grappelli. Please comment.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Police outreach program for kids. (Guest Editor, Mr I Blair.)

This may appear to be a rather cute picture of a cat scratching a specifically designed scratching pole.

Do not be decieved.

Infact, the cat pictured has had its claws nailed to the pole and is being put into a 'stress position' because I suspect the cat to be planning an act of terror on 'Pinky' my Rottweiler.

The cat, or 'Brute', has not yet been formally charged. You may think her treatment is barbaric, but this is just the tip of the iceberg........

This photograph was taken in Mrs Simmons' back garden. It clearly shows 'Fangs O'Hammy' being trained in the use of a rocket propelled grenade launcher. Intelligence suggests that Fangs and Brute have been meeting regularly since 2005.

So, is it acceptable now that Brute is being 'Encouraged' to confess?

This is a still taken from a speach by 'Fluffy Al Kilkilkil' where he encourages rodents from across Europe to rise up against dogs. In it he specifically mentions that cats are easy to coerce into acts of terror against dogs as they have been extensively chased by them. He calls on cats and rodents to make peace and unite in the fight against dogs, then goes on to outline plans that include the initial destruction of police dogs as they are 'Well hard.'

This photograph shows Fluffy Al Kilkilkil enciting 'Tiddles' to carry out an act of terror on a German Shepherd. Luckily tiddles buckled under interogation and blew the whole thing to our officers.

Not so easy to judge now is it? So, kids, remember, policemen are your FRIENDS.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

EXCLUSIVE: The band that's rocking has released their Bio.

We like to make music. We get together, and we make music. If we get famous, Adam can go out with Patsy Kensitt, but he doesn't want to take too many drugs, and he doesn't like being in the tabliods, so Matty will take all of the drugs and get in the tabloids. Marie would like it to be noted that she has been abducted and if anyone could pop round and save her, it would be much appreciated. Graham and Clarence are notable as the only OAPs in the band, but with their youthful looks and winning smiles...... Graham and Clarence are notable as the only OAPs in the band. Clarence would like it to be noted that he has more hair than Graham. He doesn't though. That's why he wears hats all the time. Infact he cuts quite a dash. Graham just dashes about on his bike. Have you ever read 'Fast Frog'? He's a bit like that.

Adam Sheehan.... A life. Adam was born in Ohio, Stoke Newington. That's about as glamorous as it gets. His first words were 'The emancipation of the working class.... um, actually I'd better learn how to read.' The first book he read was 'Fast Frog' which confused him slightly.

Marie Kamara.... A life. Marie wasn't born, she just appeared, fully formed and indomitable. Her favourite colour is DP412, a shade just off DP413. Her first words were 'Fuck me! ...... I exist!' She then went on to write the first book she ever read called 'How to Just Appear.' She found it very informative, if not a little late.

Graham Hodgin.... A life. Graham was born amidst the rough and tumble of the French Revolution to a peasant couple who were a bit thick. They didn't quite realise what the point of the revolution was and swapped him for a noblemans baby to ensure him a safe future. Luckily Grahams first words, with his head betwee the steel and wood of a Guilotene, were 'Tete a tete Rodney, Un petit pois.' and he was saved and swiftly transported to Nelson Mandela Towers in London, where he spent the next few centuries or so waiting for it to be built so he could move in.

Clarence Jackman..... A life. Clarence was invented by the ruling class to keep revolutionaries from doing work. He sniffs out activists, then visits them while they are most busy, sits in the kitchen demanding cups of coffee, smoking rolled cigarettes and trying to fart. This takes some effort as he didn't accidentally cause a rift in the space time continuum within his bowels whilst searching out cheapy thrills aged twelve. The rift isn't a direct link from our reality to an alternate one that is completely composed of methane. BP haven't paid him £2.36 to keep quiet on the subject. He didn't buy a packet of Amber Leaf and was happy.

Matty Grabham..... A life. Matty was born, aged 12, to a very relieved woman, just in time to catch the 207 to Sheperds Bush. His mother missed the bus as her legs had grown so strong during the 13 year pregnancy, that when she jumped for joy she landed on the top of Acton Library. He has never seen her since, nor would he want to. Aged five he once heard her remark 'If that little bastard doesn't get his act together and be born, I'll give him such a kicking.....'

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Democratic Centralism Recordz Presents......

3 Mould breaking and genre defining songs from a little known group of young hipsters in West London.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Uses for cheap flags.

When England get kicked out of the world cup, there will be lots of cheap St Georges Flags floating about the place. In order that they are not wasted in an 'EU flag mountain' I would like to suggest the following uses.

  • Affordable toilet roll for public toilets. (No need to cut them into squares, just hang them from the door and people will be able to continue their phone conversations as they wipe.)
  • Coffin decoration for patriotic rats and pigeons.
  • Get a red marker and colour in the white bits. Hey presto! A red flag to tie to a tree and forget about on a demonstration.
  • Cut into strips and adorn crime areas. Your friendly local copper can show their patriotism as they go round shooting your darker-skinned neighbours.
  • Melt them down and make patriotic picnic tables.
  • Burn them in waste incinerators, this way some of the patriotism may find its way into the lungs of local kids, who will grow up with a sense of pride every time they cough their guts up.
  • Cut out the red cross bit and use them as 'Failed' markers to stick on the luggage of asylum seekers. Give them the white bits to use as bandages.
  • Simply continue to hang them from your window until the next world cup. This way people will be able to identify you as a complete fuckwit before starting a conversation, avoiding needless embarassment.

I wander if readers can think of any other uses for old St Georges flags. Please comment.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

The best thing about being a mormon............ the prerogative to have a little fun. But not too much.

Pictured is the mormon cricket, so called because they actively convert other creatures into becoming crickets. The best thing about being a mormon cricket is that you can convert the far more attractive catholic beetles, then marry as many of them as you please. The worst thing about being a mormon cricket is that sometimes you get confused and convert insects that eat their spouses upon copulating.

The more ambitious mormon cricket will occasionally try to convert way outside of their niche. They are regularly sent on missions to places like Sub Saharan Africa, Indonesia and Acomb.

Elephant: What's the trick to becoming a good mormon cricket then?
Mormon Cricket: It's all in de knees yeah?
Elephant: Boooiiinnng boooiiinnng ........ boooiiinng.
Tannoy: Welcome to Acomb international airport. We are sorry to report that the 7.23 to Indonesia has been cancelled due to Elephantine stupidity.
Rabbit: Bloody elephants!
Elephant: Boooiiinnng............ Fuck me! A talking rabbit. Boooiiinnng.

I wander if readers have heard the good news. Please comment.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Be off with you! Scram! (That's what I said.)

I'm Back! Montmarcey Brown has returned.

I'll not bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that I am well hard, and those stupid bastards sent me off to a dessert Island. Bit of a typo I think on their part.

Anyways, I gorged myself on the cream bit (Pictured.) then kicked some ass. The anarchists pissed off when I asked them to clean the oven. Ahhhhh, life on the outside is sweat. I really must do something about it, but for now I'm happy with the stains.

So, we'll have no more politics here. This is now strictly a site for contemplation about serious issues...........

I wander if readers have ever contemplated a serious issue. Please comment.