Posts Tagged ‘humor’

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Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2011 – Retrospective Overanalysis in Mime with a Wedge of Lime

August 29, 2011

Edinburgh Fringe Postcard (beak says: "click to see details - love from beak xx")

When visiting the Fringe, you have to let it wash over you, accepting it for the disorienting wave of human brain-detritus that it is. There is simply too much to take in from all the various hilariants and infinite, unstoppable untertainment.

Such visceral wonders; those unerring wits; and thy hyper-hypheny-pretentious types too – the irredeemables – and my, how they shall pay.

Whatever. This post attempts to capture the Main Protagonist’s 4-day visit at the Festival‘s tail end.

Image man beak has helpfully provided a delicious photographical compilation/complication above, in the form of a tastefully-concocted mashup postcard, although since giving up he personally neglected to join us this time (cheers beak – Ed).

There were allegedly something like 2500 shows on offer throughout August, and whilst it’s a good idea to book some stuff in advance, for some of it you just need to go with the buzz.

Below is a brief run-through from memory of what happened (hover over links to see comments if you like; don’t bother if you can’t be bothered)…

Of course a lot of other stuff happened in those four days, but if it were committed to publication we only lay ourselves open to litigation, don’t we? And we don’t want that, do we? No. (Yes.)
————
POST-PUBLICATION POST-SCRIPT NON-SEQUITUR EDIT
beak contributes:

(Kind of) Blue

Thanks beak. Thanks a lot.
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Surprise Drop in Surprises “Unsurprising”

June 29, 2011

Just not surprising in this day and age

FANS OF SURPRISES are confirming that more surprises than ever are becoming still less surprising.

This latest realisation comes after a slew of reports that UK railway passengers customers are set to pay fares of inflation-busting rates yet again, despite two prior decades of unfair inflation-busting fare increases.

Furthermore this news comes despite the perpetual increase in overcrowding and statistics of ever-reduced reliability, despite these facts’ own inevitability and corresponding unsurprisingness.

One especially frantic commuter commented today as follows:

“I just cannot believe we are getting value for money. Every day I wham myself into that cattle carriage like a bent-up cow, along with several hundred other bovinesque city folk.

I can hardly breath without inhaling the long hair strands of the pretty blond less than an inch from my face. But it works better than viagra. You ask my wife! She still wasn’t surprised though. I was in prison for 4 years for molesting the neighbours’ cats, so she knows the way I am.

And even then the cats knew what I was going to do as I had to protect their health and safety risks – not to mention my own – by showing them an RSPCA DVD and a C90 explaining the risks of Cat Aids before I could proceed.

I tell you, life is no longer full of surprises. This government needs to get it sorted out, but no: they’re too busy stuffing their faces with genetically-recreated dodos at the taxpayers’ expense. What a surprise. I don’t think!”

Even Tom Vek, an occasional songs minstrel and proponent of surprises, remarks:

“Every song I make is containing less surprises as listeners are getting more and more familiar and complacent with the vapid surprises I try and foist upon them. Everything is old and done and unsurprising. I can’t just pump the drums up to 11 anymore.

No wonder Tricky got so depressed after Maxinquaye. He did it all on that album back in 1995. Perhaps he killed the surprise. Wouldn’t surprise me. No wonder he kicked a pigeon into a shop window. The pigeon saw it coming as its guts splattered across the front of Superdrug. No surprises there.

This comes despite the 11 year gap I’ve left in between this album and the album before it; my so-called fans weren’t surprised I’d faded into profound obscurity. Unsurprisingly forgotten, just like all humans before me and yet to come (and then die).

Yet still my so-called fans weren’t surprised when I made a comeback after surprising them by taking a job at Blockbuster Video – in the Adult section, as a customer fluffer – for the best part of 2 decades to fund my return to indie microfame.”

The Association of Chief Police Officers were warning citizens today that as a result of the dramatic reduction of surprises, that they ought not to be too blasé to criminal acts. Chief PC Plod stated:

“Citizens must at least act surprised so as to emphasise how awful everything is these days, as opposed to acting cynically unsurprised.

I mean, yes, sure, this country has become humdrum, pointless and a waste of landfill opportunity. Nevertheless there are-”

…unfortunately at this point Chief PC Plod broke off his sentence and bit into a cyanide capsule. Unsurprisingly he couldn’t see the f*cking point any more.

Existentially, Chief PC Plod bit off more than he could chew. Surprising. Not.

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Bad Thing

May 29, 2011


Ever feel like there’s not much to say?

The mind is a terrible thing to taste.

As we march through the terrifically lonesome darkness.

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Elizabeth Taylor: OUR NUMBER ONE FAN

March 24, 2011

The Main Protagonist has been very busy of late. Busy how? Busy with business. As he is a Business Analyst and all-round wordy git this makes him etymologically sound. He just wishes he sounded sound with his sounds. What sounds? That sound of woe as his favouritest gay icon, and mother of another gay icon, has snuffed it due to overdosing on husbands and – shock after shock! – reading too much ohcheers.com.

The lovely and seemingly-infinite-lifespan Liz Taylor wasn’t as much of an Animatronic (TM) as we had either thought, hoped or dreamed. She got snuffed out by the cruel hand of the finite.

As a tribute, let us remember Liz Taylor as she'd want to be remembered. Of course, as she enjoyed browsing ohcheers.com whilst on a rare tea break, whilst volunteering at the RNLI call centre in Burundi. Get Well Soon Lizzy-T, from all at ohcheers.com xoxoxox

Two thousand, one hundred and forty-seven of her husbands were weeping and too tear-torn for comment. The rest just didn’t pick up their phones or had changed their numbers. Or had changed their names.

Wishful thinking may make the world go around, but nothing’s gonna bring back the brave ole dame now. Not even the tragic moans of her only daughter and fellow homo legend, Drew Barrymore, whose only remark to ohcheers.com was:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to call the police. Right now. Get off my doorstep. Go on Viper, kill! Kill!

The tape from our erstwhile reporter stops dead at this point, but it’s unsurprising that people act in such deep denial amidst such trauma and upset. Keep strong, Drew. We’re here when you’re ready.

We’re always ready.

Ready for you, Drew. Who?

The lovely Liz will be laid to chill out with the daisies at the Forest Lawn Cemetery in the next few hours. She will shortly be accompanying fellow snuffs Micky “Michael” Jackson and Clarke “Green” Gables to see what comes next in the great mysterious scheme of life.

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