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One of the many over-rated films I grew up with as a child was “The Fly”.
For those unfamiliar with it the film focuses around a teleportation device designed to be the the ‘next’ thing in the world of transport, however if two organisms enter said device they become combined at their chosen destination. And Jeff Goldblum gets up my nose at the best of times, BUT!…the device was tested out in Heaton last Thursday, with willing participants Gruff and Funk. Although we couldn’t prise the Stella chalice away from the latter. Here is the result.
Then, all of a sudden, Funeral John went in with a piece of clay.
Finally, in other news, one of Granny Smith’s ex girlfriends has published her memoirs of the time she spent with him, calling it simply…
Copies available from all good book retailers.
Greetings fellow readers…. many regulars at the King’s haven’t seen yours truly for aeon’s. I am not dead. I am not avoiding people*. I have not emigrated. I haven’t even won the lottery and got myself shacked up with the most beautiful buxom bird the planet has ever laid eyes on**… The truth is boring. Saving money for imminent car insurance renewal, MOT expiry and what will be an interesting adventure in Crete with the ever thoughtful Dribbly have all cast shadows on fund-age… Even the RHQM has been worried, as Mr. Woo informed me today on a flyby visit to the King’s, he’s calculated on average they’re taking for 65 pints of Carling per week less in my absence. Ah well… status quo shall be underway in the not too distant.
*may not be true.
**I fucking wish.
Alas as per usual I do have some news to report about something, and sometimes articles on here get me in trouble. So…
Disclaimer: I mean no harm! I thought it was funny. It wasn’t my idea to record the argument. It wasn’t my idea to put it on here!
During a brief visit to the King’s today, I was quite humoured by the grumpy corner when Hutchy asked Mr Woo for a Gill whilst sat comfortably engrossed in conversation. Here is the argument that ensued…
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…the unfathomable Mr. Woo strikes again…
I will admit, during the painful past couple of weeks off sick from my job in the museum service, I have been frequenting Facebook in the early hours of the morning. Mainly browsing updates, chatting to other insomniacs (Magicians must lead lonely lives) and putting up bogus status updates to see what laughs, chuckles and slaps in the face I can get. However, upon adapting what the instructions on my 500mg Flucloxacillin capsules said for a mild laugh, I could not believe the comments that started flooding in from various friends and acquaintances… click on the images for full size.
Yep… I’ll probably have to password protect this post too…
I have been told to name no names…
BLOODY MARVELOUS!
Will everybody raise a glass to the happy couple who have just announced their engagement. Barman Dom and Legalmaid Nat proudly strolled into the King’s bearing grins and rings much to the delight of regulars who wished them congratulations aplenty. We’re now waiting for the RHQM to sort out the wedding ceremony in the pool room upstairs. All welcome. No… In all seriousness, congratulations to both!
For any of you curious about why I needed the operation I’ve just painfully gone through – the ‘Jewish Adjustment’ as so graciously described on oldheatonian, this video footage in the family archive may explain it…
and just for good measure… yours truly attacking a tree…
Phase One:
You are listening to jazz; Your first day at work is great. Your co-workers are wonderful, your office is beautiful, you love your boss, and our government is the best!
Phase Two:
You are listening to pop music; After a while you are so busy that you are not sure if you’re coming or going anymore.
Phase Three:
You are listening to heavy metal; This is what happens after about six months.
Phase Four:
You are listening to hip hop; You become bloated due to stress, you’re gaining weight due to lack of exercise because you are so tired and have so much work to do and when you get home you have more work to do. You feel sluggish and suffer from constipation. Your fellow co-workers are too cheerful for your liking and the walls of your cubicle are closing in.
Phase Five:
You are listening to GANGSTA RAP; After more time passes, your eyes start to twitch, you forget what a ‘good hair day’ feels like as you just fall out of bed and load up on caffeine.
Phase Six:
You are listening to the voices in your head; You have locked the office door to keep people out, You wonder WHY you are even here in the first place and WHY did I come to work today!
So, what phase in your stressed out job suits you most? I will point out that in my stress free job I rarely get past stage one xx
Answers on a postcard to The King’s Arms…BD9 4BB.