THE GREAT BRITISH DATE OFF cbFFG7npDM5yq5eNqbng5oy2HYSUah8qf_MCzpAHxxg

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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Run For Your Life!

by tooper on September 15, 2014

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Tooper has, on many occasions, signalled his deep seated mistrust of any individual seen exercising, or jogging in public.

Before he is castigated by those arguing that the world faces an obesity epidemic, he would like to point out that he is not including team sports participants in this group; those who attend specially designated areas with other like minded enthusiasts.  No, rather the solo jogger who chooses to inflict his/her exhibitionist tendencies on an unsuspecting public. In fact when confronted with one, Tooper always asks himself the same question?  Why would any sane person leave a comfortable (and let’s be honest, private) exercising space to venture out ‘semi naked’ in order to push themselves to the limits for all the world to see?  Have they no dignity, he wonders?

For this reason, Tooper and friends have developed their own ‘short-hand code’ for any who cross their path:-

The Pristine JoggerNormally female (sorry girls!) – Has a finely honed, well proportioned body and wants you to know it.  Is to be seen in immaculately turned out kit and full make up.  Probably power walking (with hand weights) or jogging with a fixed, minty fresh smile and with a high, Bambi-style action.  Then, when out of sight, probably hides to avoid breaking into a sweat before returning looking mildly breathless for some (very public) warming-down exercises before excessively towelling.  In other words, the sort of person who strolls naked (for no apparent reason) around communal changing areas!

The Joggers’ JoggerPossibly ex-professional runner and therefore the least offensive – sets off in effortlessly casual but well-worn attire before easing into loping strides.  Eyes fixed firmly on the horizon, our supremely fit ex-athlete’s concentration is only punctuated by an occasional downward glance at the wrist-watch or to raise a single brow in acknowledgement of a fellow Joggers’ Jogger.  On return disappears inside for swift removal of nipple plasters, shower and treatment of other flesh-chafed areas.

The Jogging VirginProbably recklessly signed up for a half-marathon while pissed!  Can be seen in dishevelled ill-matching ‘kit’, red-faced and breaking into a half hearted stumble whenever a car/member of the public approaches.  Usually found clinging to a lamp-post … vomiting …  as a concerned passer-by frantically calls cab/local cardiac unit.

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The Ultimate Training Course

by Commy on September 11, 2014

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Commy has been listening to friends discussing some of the more unusual training courses that are available, particularly after seeing an advertisement in the local paper offering the services of a Sex Therapist.

Who trains these people and how, they mused?  And how do we know that these people actually are experts in this field? Are we just expected to accept that the garish certificates that presumably adorn their offices are genuine, they asked?

Commy has decided that there must be courses available nationwide and, if there are, he is wondering why this lucrative career-path was never mentioned during the interminably boring Careers Advice sessions he was subjected to at school.

Before deciding whether to make a drastic career U-turn, Commy will be seeking one or two clarifications about the application procedure:-

  • What would be the minimum entry requirements?  (presumably virgins need not apply?)
  • Would there be a restriction on the number of referees who could confirm your suitability for the course?
  • Is there a specific dress-code for the interview?
  • Would the interview involve role-play?
  • When you qualify, would there be performance related pay?
  • Would previous relevant on the job experience count towards your qualification?

and finally…

  • Would there be an exam at the end of the training period … and if so, would it involve an oral?

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Viagra – The Alternative

by tooper on September 8, 2014

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Tooper has been listening to a very enlightened discussion on the unfairness of the condition, erectile dysfunction on the male of the species.

After all, his female friends argued, if a man is not firing on all cylinders sexually there really is no hiding place.  Not for them the female fall-back option of faking it.

Asked for an opinion on the subject of women buying their men Viagra to cover these shortcomings (!) Tooper assured them that forcing men into public acknowledgement of such a deeply personal problem could prove highly traumatic.  And, if women really wanted to restore their men’s  libidos, they needed to be a little more ingenious in their methods.

Instead of pressurising men with stacks of porn and little blue pills, he suggested the following far more subtle approach:-

  • book him an early morning test drive at the local classic Jaguar showroom
  • on his return boost him up with a few shots of espresso and a little light reading (preferably a Bosch power tools catalog)
  • settle him down for the afternoon with both the TV and DVD remotes and the option of watching either, Xtreme Tractor Pulling USA on cable or Top Gun/Gladiator on DVD
  • in the evening cook him a little intimate supper a deux involving a huge slab of (red) meat of Fred Flintstone proportions
  • try a little subliminal background music, say something like … the theme from Baywatch
  • tell him that, in certain lights, he reminds you of a grittier, more urban Bear Grylls

Try all that, ladies, and he’ll be putty in your hands!  Oh … wait…

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Naughty Night Attire

by Commy on September 4, 2014

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Commy has been listening to a light-hearted conversation amongst female work colleagues about the book, Fifty Shades of Grey.

Whilst most admitted to feeling a little frisson of sexual excitement while reading the novel, they were quick to point out that the reason women felt safe to fantasise about such a handsome, sexually-potent billionaire was because he was exactly that: pure fantasy. In the real world, they argued, billionaires like Christian Grey don’t come in such dangerously seductive packages. No, apparently they tend to be either a). short, bespectacled octogenarians with Napoleon complexes or b). bearded, polo-neck-sporting techies with Asperger’s.

Having said that, Commy did start to fidget uncomfortably when the discussion quickly degenerated into general merriment about their husband’s/partner’s misguided attempts to influence their bedroom attire.

Here are some of their more notably adventurous (and reckless) suggestions, which you should imagine with an accompanying background laughter soundtrack and caustic comments:-

  • Silk PJ’s instead of my normal flanneletteI had to stop in the end, I kept sliding out of bed!
  • Just a  dab of Chanel No 5lasted only until the window cleaner made his third appearance of the month and the arrival of the heating bill!
  • His football team stripfar too many unsubtle hints about whether we will be ‘going down’ this year!
  • Just a splash of red lipstick and a can of whipped creamI don’t think so! We all know who does the laundry, right ladies!
  • Baby Doll Nightie as in No 2 above but substitute postman for window cleaner!
  • Just a pair of leg warmersleg warmers/bed socks, what’s the difference?

It was at this point Commy, rather recklessly, made the mistake of enquiring what the women would like their men to wear in bed, here were a few suggestions (together with the same background/laughter track as above).

  • Anything except his birthday suitI’ve negotiated Brazilian rain forests less dense than the undergrowth on my husband’s back!
  • A smile would be nice instead of always complaining about my cold feet!
  • Boxersbut only if freshly laundered mind! Not festering three-dayers with unmentionable stains and loose elastic!
  • Fluffy handcuffs – but only if he’s spent the previous two hours shaving, showering and generally buffing himself up … after bathing the kids and finishing the ironing!

Ladies and gents, The Battle of the Sexes is apparently alive and well!

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Gift buying dilemma?  If they’ve got a sense of humour, we’ve got it covered! 

Unworthy Windfalls

by tooper on September 1, 2014

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Tooper’ s friends have been bemoaning the numbers of undeserving who benefit from unexpected financial windfalls while playing the National Lottery.

How many times, they argued, have we heard tales of hapless winners blowing their fortunes on mansions, fast cars and even faster women, only to emerge months later shocked, penniless and relying on handouts?  At the very minimum, they contended, people should be vetted at the ticket point of sale to determine their suitably to be left in sole charge of massive tax-free sums.

Tooper felt very strongly that this idea needed to be taken a step further and that those in charge of ticket selling booths had a duty to the rest of us to weed out those they felt would be unworthy winners.

In fact, rather in the manner of the airport checking-in procedure, he gives below questions to which he would require answers before issuing any ticket:-

  • Have you ever attended, or considered attending, a fan convention … in costume?
  • Have you ever (even though I swerved to avoid you) followed me doggedly for the purpose of conducting a survey and/or give me a flyer?
  • Have you ever considered (even though you are middle class … and white) growing your hair in dreadlocks?
  • Have you ever (as a Brit) used the words  ‘dude‘  or ‘sister‘?
  • Have you ever answered a Daytime-TV brain-numbingly-stupid telephone question (at exorbitant cost) in order to attempt to win a Toyota Yaris?
  • Have you ever finished your turn at the Post Office/Bank Counter, moved away and then when others (i.e. me) have taken up residence, returned to invade my space at the minimal perspex communication gap … because you forgot to buy a stamp?
  • Do you intend to remain unchanged by your lottery win, stay working as an abattoir operative, (because you would miss the camaraderie) while living quietly in your newly bought (ex-council) semi before leaving your inheritance to the local Cat Sanctuary?

Answer yes to any, or all of the above and you can step away from the line!

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BlogBookFrontCoverSmOK folks, it’s finally here!  The first of our paperbacks, The Trouble With Relationships, based on our wordplay cartoons and humour postings is now available! Go to our Books Section or click this link to take a peak.

 

GOODREADS GIVEAWAY!

by Commy on August 29, 2014

The Great British Date Off has always been available in Kindle (thank you guys and gals for pushing it into the humour charts!) but now we’ve made it available in paperback!

We’re also offering you the chance to win a free copy, either for you or to gift to a friend.  Enter simply by clicking on the Goodreads link below.  Good luck and don’t forget to share with your friends! :-

 

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Great British Date Off by Sheila Brady

The Great British Date Off

by Sheila Brady

Giveaway ends September 12, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

 

Marriages Made In Heaven?

by Commy on August 28, 2014

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Commy has been commiserating with female friends about the vagaries of the surname lottery facing women when they marry.

Surely, he argued, there must have been occasions where women baulked at the prospect of marriage when realisation of her likely new married name dawned?  Could love really be expected to conquer all if, having fallen deeply under the spell of some handsome young buck and dreamt of bearing his beautiful children, this poor unsuspecting female is expected to shed her comfortable and familiar name for one that would forever make her the butt of other peoples’ jokes?

Asked for some examples, Commy provided the following in the form of formal introductions being made by the host at a very high-powered dinner party:-

  • this is our expert on twentieth century synthetic materials, Dr Ester and his wife, Polly
  • these are our experts on writing a bestseller, Mr Turner and his wife, Paige
  • these are our experts on policing and the judiciary, Mr Norder and his wife, Laura
  • these are our experts on extreme tourism and just back from Afghanistan, Mr Back and his wife, Helen
  • these are our experts in sleep deprivation, Mr Noreing and his wife, Constance
  • this is our expert in conspicuous consumption, Mr Ferrari and his wife, Iona
  • this is our expert in embarrassing medical conditions, Mr Roydes and his wife, Emma
  • these are our experts in classic Chippendale furniture, Mr Teake and his wife, Anne
  • this is our expert in trauma counselling, Mr Payne and his wife, Ophelia
  • these are our experts in cheap entertainment for the masses, Mr Oakey and his wife, Carrie
  • these are our experts from the National Weather Centre, Mr Force and his wife, Gayle
  • these are our experts on dangerous reptiles, Mr Konda and his wife, Anna

and last but by no means least…

  • our experts in stock and animal fencing, Mr Dwyer and his wife, Barb

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Elevator Hater

by tooper on August 25, 2014

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Tooper has been listening to friends mocking his tendency to take the stairs, rather than use the lift.

Pointing out that anyone who didn’t feel a little uneasy while choosing to risk life and limb by stepping into a metal box suspended high above the ground held only by a steel cable, should really be questioning their own sanity and not his, Tooper wished to make it clear that this preference was based purely on some of the more awkward lift journeys he had been forced to endure in the past.

Pressed to give some examples, he asked that they imagine the following scenario; the lift has answered your call, the doors have opened and you’ve stepped inside. You’re on your own so you’ve got time to prepare yourself for every eventually, from choosing your floor to locating the emergency button. Just to be on the safe side you’ve tucked yourself out of harm’s way by the control panel. Then, just as the doors are finally closing, there’s the sound of rapid footsteps, a muffled cry, and as the doors finally clatter to a close, you realise one of the following has breathlessly stumbled in beside you:-

  • The Neanderthal – to whom you just gave ‘the finger’ after narrowly avoiding a road rage incident in the car park
  • Your Boss –  after taking a ‘sickie’ and swearing you were practically comatose at home
  • The School Bully – whose Facebook account you hacked when you finally thought it was safe
  • The Block Nutter – who’s trying to make eye contact while confiding, ‘this is the only place THEY can’t listen in!’
  • The Ex – whose engagement you broke off two weeks before the wedding

and horror of horrors…

  • Her parents

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