by tooper on May 17, 2012
Tooper’s friends have been remarking on the recent celebrity trend (now that re-hab is so passé) of tearfully admitting to some form of personality disorder; presumably in an effort to show that, though blessed with money and status, they share our pain.
It was also cynically noted that it was only when well-established that these personalities felt confident enough to bear their souls. Had they still been scrabbling up the ladder of fame or, like the rest of us mere mortals, putting together a C.V. with graphic details of their little ‘foibles’ , we all know that, in these so-called enlightened times, it would have been akin to something bordering on career suicide.
Tooper, however, felt obliged to put a different slant on things. Rather than letting something like ‘paranoia’ define what you can’t do, he asked, why not trade on the specific traits it gives you to define the jobs you can do?
He quotes the following examples:-
- if you really believe everyone is out to get you – why not become an investment banker OR join the army.
- if you really believe yourself to be a great individual, with delusions of grandeur – investigate how to become a dictator or alternatively, an X-Factor judge.
- if you believe someone famous wants to marry you (but doesn’t know it yet) – become a paparazzi photographer – after all if you’re going to be out stalking, you might as well take your camera!
- if you already believe everyone is watching and/or talking about you – it’s a no-brainer, become a Big Brother contestant.
- if you truly believe you’re a messenger from God who has been sent to the world to propagate your religious beliefs – either join the Jehovah’s Witnesses, start your own cult OR become Tom Cruise’s understudy.
Commy has recently been listening to his friends fantasising about escaping modern life with their partners, and sharing a simpler existence ‘at one with nature‘ at the extremes of the world.
Whilst agreeing that this romantic idyll might just be attainable under benign weather conditions, Commy contends that in extreme arctic conditions, such a plan would be doomed to failure. How many couples, he argues, would really want to put their relationships to the test by living for months in social isolation; with nothing but tinned food, thermal underwear and a shared love of penguins to sustain them?
Just imagine, he prompted, being ‘holed up’ for days by arctic blizzard conditions, with the temperature gauge hovering at -15 degrees Celsius and suffering from the early stages of ‘cabin fever ‘. How long, he contends, before the following ‘innocent’ comments start taking their toll on your unbreakable bond?
- Him to Her (trying to be positive) – ‘Of course the great thing about all those thick layers of clothing is … no-one can tell how much weight you’ve put on.’
- Him to Her (thinking he’s being funny) – ‘Don’t worry about cooking tonight … I’ve ordered a takeaway.’
- Her to Him (without even a hint of irony) – ‘Take my turn in taking out the rubbish and emptying the chemical toilet? In these boots?’
- Him to Her (reassuringly) – ‘Don’t worry about accidents, by the time the flight arrives to rescue us we’ll probably be dead anyway.’
- Him to Her (passing the time with the photo album) – ‘…and here’s one of us in the snow.’
- Her to Him (after three days of the silent treatment) – ‘All this because I got a triple word score …’
- Him to Her (indignantly) – ‘What do you mean it’s too cold to make love, they managed fine in Dr Zhivago!’
- Him to Her (every time he returns from using the chemical toilet) – ‘That one could spell the end for the ozone layer!’
by tooper on May 10, 2012
Tooper and friends have been discussing the type of trial lawyer they would want representing them; should they be unfortunate enough to face criminal charges.
While most agreed that requisite qualities included an encyclopedic knowledge of the judicial process together with a logical, incisive mind, Tooper, as ever, begged to differ. Why, he wonders, would anyone risk their freedom by engaging a bookish, lack-lustre barrister when everyone knows the only thing guaranteed to hold sway over the general public (and therefore a jury) these days, is either a celebrity or a celebrity lawyer. And, given the cost of celebrity lawyers is likely to be prohibitive, Tooper argues that engaging someone with the dramatic court-room presence of a thespian, (and playing the fame card) is not only going to hold the jury in thrall, but is therefore much more likely to bring in a not guilty verdict.
He even put forward a few likely examples, together with possible extracts from their spellbinding court-room performances:-
- Ian Fleming – ‘We’re going to need someone to put up a bond … James’s bond’.
- Forrest Gump – ‘Verdicts are like a box of chocolates … you never know what you’re gonna get.’
- Hans Solo – ‘May the LAPD Force be with you.’
- Rhett Butler – ‘Frankly me’lud, I don’t give a damn!’
- Lauren Bacall – ‘You know who blew the whistle don’t you, Steve?’
- Patrick Swayze – ‘Nobody puts Baby in a courtroom.‘
- Scotty from Star Trek – ‘I’m afraid it’s life Jim … but not as you know it.’
- Jack Nicholson – ‘Heeeere’s the jury!’
Commy and friends have been discussing that classic Tammy Wynette anthem to feminism, ‘Stand by your man’.
Whilst some female friends put forward the suggestion that this song should be the ironic background soundtrack for any news conference featuring the next rich and powerful man’s fall from grace, (while tearfully begging forgiveness from his electorate and grim-faced wife … in that order!) Commy injects a note of caution. Rather than pouring scorn on these irrationally loyal women clinging desperately to their status and what is left of their dignity, he maintains that they should be encouraged to stand by their flawed and disloyal men … but only for so long as it is in their interest to do so.
Consider, he asks, the following protestations from those who know a thing or two about balancing unerring loyalty and their own status:-
- Hillary (pained expression) wife of then President Clinton - I’m not angry Bill, just very … very disappointed.’
- Wife of ‘rutting chimpanzee’ head of the International Monetary Fund, Dominic Strauss Kahn - ‘… that woman probably used the term ‘animal magnetism’ and something got lost in translation.’
- Wendi Deng (wife to multi-billionaire Rupert Murdoch) – ‘I’d take a custard pie for that man!‘
Now contrast that with the fate of the woman who stood by their men too long:-
- Marie Antoinette – ‘…bread … cake, what’s the difference?’
- Anne Boleyn – ‘How hard can it be to produce a male heir anyway?’
and the loyallest (and stupidest) of them all :-
- Eva Braun – ‘He’s so misunderstood … you know what he actually said was, I can’t stand JUICE!’
Tooper’s friends have been discussing the various forks in the road of life, that led them (sometimes kicking and screaming) down their current respective career paths.
Yet, while most of us mere mortals face the daily grind by relying on grim determination and occasional bouts of binge-drinking, other more fortunate souls appear to have hit career payload. Not for them, the monthly struggle to make ends meet. But, Tooper wonders, had the ‘lucrative career gods’ not looked upon them so benignly, how would these pampered few manage to scratch a living?
Tooper lists below a few (karma driven) second-career suggestions:-
- Imagine visiting your local funeral directors and finding Ossie Osbourne (or Sharon for that matter!) greeting you.
- Imagine training to be a marriage counsellor and finding your tutor is Jennifer Lopez.
- Imagine booking a hairdressing appointment and seeing Don King advancing with scissors in hand.
- Imagine arriving at the butcher’s counter and finding Anthony (Hannibal Lecter) Hopkins salivating over your piece of liver.
- Imagine arriving at a Health Spa weekend and being greeted by your healthy lifestyle guru, Keith Richards.
- Imagine your daughter signing up for a ‘totally legit’ dating agency run by Tiger Woods.
- Imagine interviewing for a polite, hardworking PA and Naomi Campbell walks in.
- Imagine turning up at your local dry cleaners for advice about an ‘unmentionable stain’ and finding Bill Clinton behind the counter.
- Imagine paying for an expensive song-writing course and finding Madonna‘s your tutor.
- Imagine The Queen advertising for a new stylist and Dolly Parton applying.
- Imagine calling the (men’s) cloakroom attendant and George Michael appearing.
- Imagine turning up at your local Beauticians for your wedding makeover and finding Samantha Brick.
- Imagine arriving for your Middle East Tour and finding their new guide is George Bush.
by Commy on April 30, 2012
Commy and friends have been considering the giveaway signs of impending old age.
Whilst most people argue that the acquisition of a garden shed signals the beginning of the end of the ‘testosterone years’ for men; for women, (hot flushes excluded) there are no such obvious outward signals … apart of course, from a sudden and wholly unexpected urge to start collecting Cruise Liner brochures.
Whilst Commy applauds the bravery of those reckless enough to willingly place themselves (at great cost ) on one of these top heavy, floating mini-cities of humanity, he states unequivocally that, unless semi-conscious or heavily sedated, he will never be found guilty of encouraging this nautical homage to over-consumption.
He gives below his reasoning :-
- Listen to the shipping forecast – shit happens!
- There are not enough drugs in the world to counter-act the misery that is seasickness.
- People go missing or fall overboard all the time. Look it up. It happens! Yet most of the crew are non-English-speaking, minimum-wagers. And (if we’re honest) if we were on subsistence wages, we’d probably let a few of these smug, over-weight b****rds drown too! Crew member to inquiry board (via translator) … ‘I could have sworn he was waving, not drowning!‘
- Sitting at your allocated table (at set meal times), surrounded by the same inanely smiling fellow passengers every night … asking you to ‘guess their ages’ before insisting you join them for a game of Canasta later … or tomorrow, if tonight isn’t convenient.
- Food – Quality not quantity, that’s all Commy’s saying! Is there really any call for a midnight buffet? And do these cruise companies really have a tie-in with Weight-Watchers?
- They advertise the fact that there is round-the-clock entertainment … as if it’s a plus!
- Surrounded by oceans of sparkling blue sea, yet fighting for a spot round a postage-stamp sized, chlorine filled, swimming pool!
- Remember those minimum wagers? They’re all gonna be lining up for their end of cruise tips. So … now you can’t afford the taxi fare home, right? Suddenly the boat trip feels more like a guilt trip!
and the No 1 reason to man the lifeboats or swim back to shore … hearing the following announcement:-
- ‘I’ma your captain and I’ma gonna welcome you alla today, aboard the Costa Condolence …’
by tooper on April 26, 2012
Tooper and friends have been considering how few elite dog breeds make it to the exalted status of Regimental Mascot.
While Tooper applauds the effort to identify Regional Regiments with their own local native species, he also feels for those other dog breeds not lucky enough to be blessed with militarily media-savy names such as Irish Wolfhound or Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Surely, he argues, in this world where marketing is king, other, less regionally specific breeds, should be given the opportunity to strike their own canine sponsorship deals?
As a starter, Tooper lists below some marriages, he considers, would be made in heaven:-
- Mascot to Immigration Services Worldwide – The Border Collie
- Mascot to SAGA and/or well-known U.S. Bus Company – The Greyhound
- Mascot to Acne Cream Manufacturers and/or Clearasil – The Dalmation
- Mascot to Daytime TV Researchers – The Springer Spaniel
- Mascot of Hot Dog Manufacturers – The Dachshund
- Mascot To All Police involved in ID Parades – The Pointer
- Mascot to Bounty Hunters – The Retriever
- Mascot for Elvis Fans/Graceland – The Hound Dog
- Mascot to Pick-Pockets/Sneak Thieves everywhere – The Pinscher
- Mascot to Male Underwear Manufacturers – The Boxer
- Mascot to all Die-cast Collectibles Model-Car Manufacturers – The Corgi
- Mascot to Throat Lozenge Manufacturers – The Husky
- Mascot to S&M Parlours everywhere – The Whippet
- Mascot to all Theatrical Productions of Hamlet – The Great Dane
by Commy on April 23, 2012
Commy has recently surprised his friends by remarking, during a discussion on difficult jobs, that he would consider that of the hotel receptionist to be one of his front-runners.
Whilst some argued that this is a professional calling requiring little more than a pleasant smile and smattering of basic foreign language skills, Commy contends that nothing could be further than the truth. In fact he maintains that, as gatekeeper to the morally ambiguous world of the hotel bedroom, (a place where XXX rated films, professional escorts and designer drugs now seem de rigueur), these days this is a job requiring, not only business, computer and people skills, but also a level of tact and discretion matched only by the local whore-house’s window-cleaner.
And if you doubt their ability to deal with anything that is thrown at them, just consider the following examples:-
- ‘Yes, of course the room boasts all forms of modern international communication, why do you ask?’ – Hotel receptionist to Russell Crowe’s PA
- ‘And finally, can you confirm the room has a balcony?’ – Michael Jackson’s PA to hotel receptionist
- ‘No, I don’t imagine they will be requiring the ‘turn-down service’ every night’ – John & Yoko’s PA to hotel receptionist in 1969
- ‘I can’t remember the name of the suite he had last time … but does bunga bunga mean anything to you?’ Silvio Berlosconi’s PA to hotel receptionist
- ‘Can you confirm that if I unexpectedly ask a guest to share my room the extra charge will not show up on my bill for expenses?’ US Secret Service Detail to hotel receptionist
- ‘I’m sorry, did you just ask us to fax through photos of the chambermaids before you make a booking?‘ Hotel receptionist to Dominic Strauss-Kahn’s PA
by tooper on April 19, 2012
Tooper and friends have been discussing the imminent onset of the barbecue season.
While this elicited excited anticipation in some quarters, Tooper, as ever, felt obliged to introduce a note of caution. Far from being one of the most relaxed, informal methods of entertaining friends and family that everyone suggests, he argues that it is, in fact, fraught with difficulty for both those rash enough to consider hosting such a gathering and those reckless enough to attend.
He has decided therefore, not to grace any such ‘events’ in the future, without first ascertaining whether careful consideration has been given to the guest list.
He lists below, his minimum requirement:-
- Psychic – We all know that setting a date for a barbecue, more than a few days ahead, is akin to invoking a tempest of biblical proportions, right?
- Abattoir Operative – Let’s face it, when it comes to organising a meat-fest, portion control is not our forte. And, if the kitchen is going to look like a slaughterhouse anyway, why not go the whole hog (!) and get in the professionals?
- Style consultant – If only to assuage both; ‘barbecue man’s’ penchant for the novelty apron and the guests wildly over-optimistic, hawaiian shirt/baggy shorts/ankle socks combo.
- Sous Chef – If we must waste time on side salads, shouldn’t we at least ensure they are edible? (Tooper remains convinced that there is just one ‘three-bean salad’ in circulation, which is passed on … untouched … from party to party!)
- Entertainer - To fill the gap between the (rather belated) lighting of the charcoal and the four hour gap before it reaches optimum temperature. Failure to provide this service sadly often results in over consumption of alcohol (obviously on an empty stomach) and/or drunken, sporting football-type or frisbee injuries.
- Pest Control Officer – Most people enjoy their food with a little sprinkling of seasoning …but not of flies and midges
- Health & Safety Expert – Who would probably (let’s be honest) condemn the actual barbecue apparatus itself (which, let’s face it, has probably been used as the local wildlife’s toilet since last summer) AND stop the reckless partaking of only partially defrosted, carbonised chicken-legs AND advise against the use of ‘accelerants’ (such as petrol or flame throwers) to speed up the whole process.
- Nuclear Fusion Scientist - To spot the ten minute window of opportunity when the charcoal finally reaches optimum cooking temperature. (normally spotted ten minutes after you’ve finished eating!)
- Contortionist – Because no-one has yet figured out a way of balancing drinks, cutlery and food while still retaining the ability to swat away wasps/flies in a stylish and satisfactory manner.
- Table Manners/Etiquette Advisor – While Tooper understand that barbecues may well be a throw-back to our Neanderthal days; watching your nearest and dearest tearing off dripping shards of meat with their bare hands before ramming them (sticky fingered) into greasy, over-filled mouths cannot, under any circumstances, be considered a good look.
and just when you think it’s all over …
- Back-Up Medical Services – to deal with the fall-out of the day including; booze-fuelled sporting injuries, insect bites and the inevitable salmonella outbreak.
by Commy on April 16, 2012
Commy and friends have been discussing the tricky subject of openness in any new live-in relationship. In short, when and how to broach the taboo subject of any ‘adult porn’ collection.
While some argue that, in these liberated times, women are much more tolerant of their men’s interest in such matters of the flesh (and may even boast their own private collections), Commy advises caution. Why let that particular genie out of the bottle, he argues, when everyone knows their porn glory days are numbered and that it is only a matter of time before middle age and/or parenthood turns your previously ‘healthy’ interest into something which, to others, (and more particularly, your children) will undoubtedly seem … well, let’s be honest … a little ‘seedy’. In fact, your offspring will probably hand themselves over to Social Services, should the day ever come when you are sitting ‘en familia’ on Christmas morning … thanking ‘mum’ for her thoughtful (newly opened) gift of a digitally re-mastered DVD copy of Debbie Does Dallas!
Safer by far, Commy contends, to follow the tried and trusted route of your forefathers and buy/download something that, to the untrained eye, sits happily in any DVD collection. Titles that can be dusted without drawing unwanted attention.
Commy lists some ‘discreet titles’ below:-
- Laid In Manhattan
- Boldfinger
- The Lust of the Mohicans
- Dr Strangelove
- Chitty Chitty Gang Bang
- Brokeback Mounting (for our gay readers)
- The Porn Ultimatum
- Swinging in the Rain
- From Here To Paternity
- Seven Rides for Seven Brothers
and for the fetishists out there:-
- There’s Something About Hairy
and even one for those with more ‘mature’ tastes:-
