THE GREAT BRITISH DATE OFF cbFFG7npDM5yq5eNqbng5oy2HYSUah8qf_MCzpAHxxg

Wacky Races

by Commy on October 23, 2014

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Commy and friends have been considering the now ubiquitous movie car chase.

Is it compulsory to have at least one five-minute, screaming, white knuckle ride in every blockbuster, they asked? And if so, isn’t it about time someone came up with a twist on the usual  ‘run of the mill’ car versus police car/baddies format?  After all, even in real life there have been some serious innovators in the car-chase stakes, people who have run amok in, not only in a modified bulldozer but also (unbelievably) a tank!

Commy feels that the problem in coming up with new and innovative ways of attracting the police’s attention (apart from the fact that for both drivers, those chases ended very badly indeed)  is that in entertainment terms there needs to be a level playing field.  What would be the point in coming up with a new and exciting mode of transport to initiate a chase, like say … a stolen unicycle … if the police didn’t ditch their souped-up patrol cars and follow in kind … so to speak.  Kind of ‘Keystone Cops’ meets ‘Cirque du Soleil’.

Here are a few other, more novel chase combinations Commy for one, wouldn’t mind paying to see:-

  • The Praetorian Guard careering through the Greek quarter of Rome in hot pursuit of a reckless plebeian graffiti artist … in war chariots
  • Mr Darcy making hard work of closing in on a fleeing Mr Wickham (for his ‘shotgun wedding’) … in sedan chairs
  • Toulouse Lautrec being hunted by debt collectors across the suburbs of Paris … in hot air balloons
  • Holmes and Lestrade trying to corner Moriarty … on Pennyfarthings
  • The Beatles (Hard Days Night style) taking on the police and half of the low bridges in London  … in red double decker buses
  • Lewis Hamilton trying to outrun traffic cops  … on Segways

Now that’s what Commy calls entertainment!

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SORRY FOR THE INTERRUPTION, FOLKS – NORMAL SERVICE HAS NOW BEEN RESUMED!

Temporary Interruption To Service!

by Commy on October 13, 2014

Just a short note to say, for the first time in almost three years we are out of the country for a week so will not be posting for a few days. After today’s post we will resume again on Thursday 23rd October. In the meantime, if you’re having withdrawal symptoms, check out some of our oldies but goodies or our books page and get your Christmas shopping underway!

Ice Maiden

by tooper on October 12, 2014

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Tooper has been listening to one of his female friends bemoaning her svelte-like shape and lack of hour-glass figure.

Why is it that most women envy my distinct lack of curves, she wondered aloud?  Yet most men seem to lose all sense of reason when faced with a quivering set of ‘DD’s or a Kim Kardiashian ‘ghetto booty’?

In an effort to appear both enlightened and sensitive, Tooper told her to be careful what she wished for.  He argued that most amply proportioned women always seemed to be just a decade (and a few boxes of Dunkin Donuts) short of metabolic meltdown.  How many of these so-called sex goddesses suddenly ‘run to seed’ when they pass their sell-by dates, he asked?  Then quickly become fodder for the celebrity ‘chubby chaser’ and the unflattering ‘paparazzi shot’?

To add weight to his argument he followed it up by listing some of the humiliating scenarios his willowy friend would never have to endure:-

  • never getting into an unseemly wrangle over the bargain rail during the January sales … the ‘skinny-minny’ section is always free and clear, after all
  • never having people deliberately avoid eye contact as they see you heading towards the vacant seat next to them on a plane
  • never being asked to move, (for Health & Safety reasons after having finally got yourself seated and strapped in), as you may ‘block’ the emergency exit
  • never having people peer into your supermarket trolley, sucking their teeth in disapproval at your family-size multi-purchases of M&M’s and Snickers
  • never seeing your fellow passengers lurch in panic for the ‘close doors’ button  as you lumber towards an already overcrowded lift
  • never seeing people visibly wince when you announce you’re thinking of visiting a nudist beach

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Birthday Blues

by Commy on October 9, 2014

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Commy has been listening to female friends reliving some of their ‘best ever birthdays’.

Whilst Commy is pleased that at least for some, this annual event really provokes warm and fuzzy feelings, he feels that they must surely be in the minority.  He argues that for most normal people and particularly those in late adolescence, the anticipation of this special day brings nothing but fear and dread.  In fact, apart from the nightmare that is the Christmas holiday, Commy felt it was the single most stressful day of the year!

When asked to elaborate, Commy provided the following reasons :-

  • The Presents  – God preserve me from the embarrassing novelty present (thank you, female work colleagues for yet another in a long line of leopard-print G-strings), the overly-practical present (thank you, great-uncle Eric for another map to add to my National Parks Ordnance Survey collection) and the well meaning relative present (thanks gran, you’re right, you can never have enough beige pullovers!)
  • The Cards – Time was, I actually looked forward to the arrival of the postman with proper birthday post.  Now it’s a race to intercept them before the parents/grandparents see the totally tasteless and frankly disgusting offerings my peers insist on sending me.
  • The Cake – A possible high-point but then my family never listened when I pointed out – MY birthday … MY cake!  As I explained to my parents at the time, sorry, but this whole ‘having to share’ concept seems not only deeply unfair but is probably borderline socialism!
  • The Seemingly Interminable Facebook Notifications - A recent phenomenon but just who the f*ck are half these people wishing me happy birthday anyway?  And will they be offended if I just ‘Like’ rather than message them back?
  • Phone Calls To/From Elderly Relatives – Yes, Casa Commy is still old-fashioned enough that the failure to take or make ‘thank you’ calls (even for the crappiest of presents) would not only make you a persona non grata but also risk disinheritance!
  • The Family ‘Restaurant Birthday’ Meal – Where, (after someone ‘lets slip’ it’s your birthday and everyone, staff included, is assembled table-side for an excruciatingly embarrassing rendition of Happy Birthday), I am struggling to maintain my frozen, slightly manic, smile.
  • The Compulsory Hangover – OK, so I’ve managed to finally escape the ‘forced family fun’, now I have to run the gauntlet of friends who are plying me with the fifth JagerBomb of the night and consider a visit to A&E to be a birthday rite of passage! …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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Rockin The Roadie!

by tooper on October 6, 2014

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Can there be a more iconic male fantasy, Tooper asks, than to have lived (and survived) as a roadie in the heady days of late seventies?

The days when rock stars were rock gods, and the women were glad of it.  The days when metal was heavy and so was the vibe, man!  Days when there was no such thing as excess – and booze, drug taking and big hair were considered de rigeur for any self respecting super-group.  So what if they all looked androgynous, their adoring fans cried!  Everyone knew that this was just a cover for the fact that they were toting enough power in their testosterone-tasers to lay waste to most of their adoring female entourage (before lapsing into unconsciousness at daybreak, obviously!).

And who were the facilitators that kept the show on the road during these debauch-fests … the guys who set up, sound tested and acted as security, before packing up and shipping out with robotic like precision … the guys who supplied the recreational drugs, compliant females and bail money with tact and discretion?  The Roadies, that’s who!

So, knowing that many of us dreamt of reaching the Holy Grail that was The World Tour Bus; what attributes would have prevented the majority from climbing aboard?

  • Baldness – first and most important consideration for being a roadie was hair and lots of it … in whatever form!
  • Sartorial Elegance – Chinos and Polo Shirts did not cut it.  Roadie uniform consisted solely of two items;  jeans and tees (of the branded iconic tour variety, obviously)
  • The inability to look busy at all times, shout incoherently into microphones or tame endless unruly coils of cable
  • The inability to appreciate the awesome (bordering on magical) power of gaffer tape
  • Not appreciating Jack Daniels and speed for breakfast
  • Looking sceptical when confronted with the phrase, ‘No shit man, this really happened!

and finally, a basic lack of understanding of Road Crew humour, such as –

  • Q:  What do a drum or bass solo and premature ejaculation have in common?   A:  You know it’s coming and there aint nothin’ you can do about it  … OR
  • Q: What did the tour truck-driver get on his IQ test?   A: Drool

Tooper thinks that old roadies never die; they just hand in their tour passes and head off to the Rainbow Bar and Grill in LA to hang out with Lemmie.  Lucky Buggers!

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Canine Characters

by Commy on October 2, 2014

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Commy and friends have been musing on the expression, ‘meaner than a junkyard dog‘.

Is there a dog species of whom more is expected than these  ‘Mike Tysons’ of the canine world, Commy asks?  Dogs who, through no fault of their own, get called upon to serve their time pacing boundary fences, snarling at onlookers and keeping the whole neighbourhood awake.  Not for them the comfort of a warm home, soppy owners and a dog basket.  No, these dogs are the canine equivalent of ‘security'; forever destined to have their cold wet noses pressed up against the window of a world that is forever denied to them; the cosy, cosseted world of the house-dog.

Yet, Commy is reminded, just as a junkyard dog will never ever take the top prize at Crufts, you will also never see a baying mob being restrained by a riot policeman with a yapping chihuahua on the end of a leash.  In other words, and at the risking of mixing my metaphors; even for dogs, it’s horses for courses!

So in that spirit, Commy has been speculating on the type of statement giving and receiving certain dog breeds as gifts would make.  He gives the following examples and leaves you to draw you own conclusions regarding hidden messages :-

  • Angela Merkel To Francois Hollande – a French Poodle
  • Katy Perry to Russell Brand – a Rough Collie
  • Domestic Abuse Charities to Chris Brown – a Pit Bull
  • Just about anyone who has been the butt of his jokes to Ricky Gervais – a Pug
  • Every Lady Diana fan to Camilla – a King Charles Spaniel
  • Hundreds of investors to Mr Madoff – a St Bernard  (NOT out of admiration but because you have to be dead to become one!)
  • Animal Rights Campaigners to London Zoo – a Shih Tzu

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Common(Non)Sense

by tooper on September 29, 2014

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Tooper has been listening to friends discussing some of the nonsensical things on which we are happy to spend our hard-earned cash.  How our ancestors would have laughed they mused, had they seen the multi-billion pound industries that have sprung up from selling us a resource we already pay for, like water!

Tooper argued that they would also be baffled by many other aspects of modern life: such as the Higgs boson theory or the concept of Wi-Fi  and the even more bewildering predictive text and the sexual appeal of Russell Brand!

In fact, he maintains that our use of the modern English language also lends itself to a certain lack of clarity.

When challenged, he provided the following examples:-

  • we call ourselves floating voters ... even though we don’t live in Venice
  • we go on a sandwich course … but can’t even rustle up a decent BLT
  • we create a political asylum system … but allow politicians to roam free
  • we tell people to follow their dreamseven if they’re sleep-walkers
  • we ask someone to make the wedding toastat a wedding breakfast (with no bread!)
  • we go on crash courses … then complain about other people’s driving
  • we date The Town Crier … then say we don’t like moody people
  • and we  ask someone to invent the disposable nappy/diaper … then pooh-pooh the whole idea!

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Vacuous Ventures

by Commy on September 25, 2014

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Commy has been listening to friends pondering on some of the more ‘interesting’ inventions they have seen on the internet.  Is there no-end to the hare-brained, money making ventures people seem determined to gamble their life savings on, they wondered?

Commy wonders if the millionaire inventor of the ‘Pet Rock’ met with the same negative attitude when he first came up with his spoof pet product in the 1970’s. Is it any wonder people expound a lot of energy coming up with the next ‘must have’ when he went on to sell a cool 1.5 million of the little beauties before the fad ran of steam?

Even so, all were agreed that the following genuine products probably failed for very good reason:-

  • The Baby Cage – For those in flats and with limited living space (plus a severe lack of basic parenting skills) this cage was designed to suspend OUTSIDE the building allowing window access to eject and retrieve your offspring … presumably it also saved a fortune on nappies!
  • Phone Fingers – Imagine a finger ‘durex’ designed to keep your precious Tablet and iPhone screens germ and smear free for eternity.  The perfect gift for the mysophobic techie in your life!
  • Walking Sleeping Bag – GENIUS!  A boon for those who like to camp AND sleep-walk.
  • Flatulence Pants – The natural successor to incontinence-pants, these tightly elasticated little beauties discreetly store all your noxious odours until they can safely be  released into the wild.  Question – what if they start to inflate?
  • Wine Glass Holder Necklace – For the ultimate party schmoozer who needs to keep both hands free, presumably to seriously attack the buffet or perform card tricks
  • Toilet Golf – Why not multi-task while seated in lavatory limbo? At least you’ll have an excuse to perfect your swing AND work on your follow-through!
  • Baby Mop – FINALLY!  Why not harness all that turbo-charged energy expounded by crawling babies by making a BabyGro with built-in duster!
  • Hat Wig – Imagine a John Deere type hat that will not only shade your eyes but will also cover your balding pate with a lustrous synthetic mane of unnaturally coloured hair!
  • Breast Cushion – Designed to keep everything separate and sag-free during sleep and presumably comes with matching nipple throw?
  • Remote Wrangler –  Imagine a headband (John McEnroe style)  to which you velcro all your remotes!  You may not have any friends but at least you can change the channel!

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Food for Thought

by tooper on September 22, 2014

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Tooper has been wondering when the PC Police will be taking a look at the average menu.

Having already left their mark on vast swathes of our lives, how has this potential minefield of offensive terminology managed to slip through their net, he wonders?  After all, don’t some of our restaurants/canteens risk offending at least 0.00001 percent of the population with their insensitively named dishes?

For those of you who think Tooper is over-stating the case; take a look at some of these more blatant (and tactless) examples :-

  • ‘Pigs in Blankets’ – on any Police canteen menu
  • Baked Alaska‘ – on any Greenpeace Office canteen menu
  • Spotted Dick‘ – on any STD Clinic canteen menu
  • Toad in the Hole’ – on any Fetishists Convention canteen menu
  • Devils on Horseback’ – on the Vatican City canteen menu
  • Lady Fingers’ – on any canteen menu (if you are vegetarian!)
  • ‘Hoppin John’ – on the Olympic Village canteen menu (Para Olympics obviously!)
  • ‘Faggots and Peas‘ – on any Gay Pride canteen menu
  • Birds Nest Soup’ – on any Synthetic Wig Makers canteen menu … or at Trump Tower!

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Fighting Talk

by Commy on September 18, 2014

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Commy has been listening to female colleagues discussing men and their seemingly never-ending capacity to ‘bottle things up’.  Why do they do it, they asked?  Wouldn’t their lives and relationships be so much easier if they didn’t?

Feeling obliged to point out that men are pre-programmed  from a very young age to control their emotions, Commy asked that they consider the following salient point.  Imagine ladies, a scenario where suddenly during adolescence, your testosterone level hits the roof.  That you are suddenly consumed with a mind and body full of pent-up aggression but, in the 21st century, you have no ‘civilised’ outlets for it … apart that is from opening jars, killing spiders, playing sports or joining the military.  Given all of this, perhaps it’s no bad thing that men are trained to keep their emotions very much in check and better all round if women weren’t always privy to their men’s thought processes … even during everyday encounters.

He followed it up with some examples of typical restrained male ‘civilised speak’  together with their (what men are really thinking) equivalents i.e. ‘testosterone translations':-

  • Civilised Speak – You look amazing in that dress’  Testosterone Translation - ‘Can we go now?’
  • Civilised Speak‘Let me cook dinner/run you a bath/pour you a drink’  Testosterone Translation‘I want sex!’
  • Civilised Speak‘Do you think maybe we should start exercising’  Testosterone Translation - ‘You’re getting fat’
  • Civilised Speak - ‘Of course, I never watch internet porn!’  Testosterone Translation - ‘I know a short cut that deletes my internet browsing history and I’m not afraid to use it!’
  • Civilised Speak‘I’m okay!’  Testosterone Translation – ‘Unlike you, if I say I’m OK, it invariably means, I’m OK!’
  • Civilised Speak – Of course I’m not ogling your friends’Testosterone Translation –  ‘I check out most women, why single out just your friends?’
  • Civilised Speak – Of course I love you!’  Testosterone Translation –  ‘I f**king married you, didn’t I?’
  • Civilised Speak -It’s a guy thing!’  Testosterone Translation - ‘I can’t explain it, you definitely can’t explain it, in fact no-one can explain it, so can we all just move on?’
  • Civilised Speak – Can we talk about this later?’  Testosterone Translation – OK, we’ve been arguing about this for two hours, SO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, can you please just give it a rest!’
  • Civilised Speak – I was kidding!’  Testosterone Translation  – ‘I have a sense of humour, get used to it!’
  • Civilised Speak – It’s my fault, I’m sorry’  Testosterone Translation  – ‘OK, we’ve been arguing for over four hours now and the football is just about to start!’

and when it is all over…

  • Civilised Speak – It’s not you, it’s meTestosterone Translation – ‘IT IS TOTALLY, ABSOLUTELY, 100% YOU!’

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