Mutleythedogsdayout

Pomegranate

2009-12-28T01:58:00.000-08:00

An enormous pomegranate has appeared on the far corner of Richard Branson Square opposite Fart Street and quite blocking Do-The-Boys Alley - a good thing to, it could save many marriages at this time of the year. Would be Pie Shop customers are having to edge past it, clutching wicker baskets to their chests and Mrs Scroggity has been strolling up and down around the gigantic fruit whacking it with a rolling pin and exclaiming in her language of birth - Old Russian.

Our new Police Community Support Officer whose name is Kevin, broke one of his horns trying to move it and now wherever he 'walks' or indeed canters literary minded street urchins taunt him by quoting enormous chunks of "The Cow With the Crumpled Horn" from hidden alcoves, hideaways and from under fold up beds.

I wandered over myself earlier and was struck with reminiscences about the time I went to New York in a Giant Peach - a story recorded for posterity by my old friend Roald Dahl, with subtle alterations to the identities of those involved - my second given name is in fact "Jomes" for example...

A sinister gaggle of black clad free masons and divorce lawyers arrived to shower it in cigar ash and scatter pennies to the crowds and by this evening it had been fenced off and they were charging peasants 1 Euro each to touch it on the promise that it cures venereal diseases. Where there is a crowd - even if mainly shame faced mythical beings, former Mayors, teachers etc. there is a traveling brothel - this being Brodpurt. The horribly thin denizens of that mysterious 'caravan of love' were soon in use for persons leaving the Pomegranate Experience, and their shrieks echoed around the Square quite disturbing my 'novel writing'. It was worse than the time the abattoir flooded and everything escaped - which lead to the endless sighting of the 'Black Beast of Bodmin' - but that story is for another day

Blog News

I have received a flood of an email claiming that my Blog is made up and that in particular Paul Weller has never "changed into a glacier and grown a proboscis". I am happy to publish this correction. On the same theme my repeated claim that Gordon Brown is one of the "zombie undead who walk the Earth in search of human flesh to devour" is also untrue. He does not walk he usually drives or bounces on a pogo stick.

The Longest Night - 22nd December!

2009-12-21T14:27:00.000-08:00

I do not know about you but I have had some odd dreams lately - I dreamed I was at the kitchen 'table' when a a huge slice of cooked bread walked in. "You will be visited by the toasts of Xmas Past, present and future." he said!
Ho Ho! Can you see what I have done there? I have confabulated 'Ghosts' with 'Toasts' a most amusing literary device similar to my old friend Gorilla Bananas!

The 23rd December is the longest night of the year - darkness falls across Brodpirt at 3.30 - before the works hooter on the great Prison ship dominating the bay has even sounded, signalling lock up for 240 of Britain's most dangerous offenders, and the hoards of peasants scurried home through darkening cobbled streets to their humble homes.
On this one special night - also known as the Winter Equinox - many of the more traditionally minded still engage in the old superstitions and rituals. I have written before about the great circus of horrors that is the Xmas season here - the 'tar baby' - the 'wicken man', 'puffin night' and 'the trail of dismay' - however today I turn my attention to traditions of the home and hearth..

On his arrival home from work on the Longest night the traditional Brodpirt worker quickly dons his robe of celebration - made in towelling - often navy blue or black, his 'shorts of plenty' bearing traditional slogans such as 'Skol Lager' or lipstick lips and his 'white socks of the night' - sometimes with a Chelsea FC trim.
Imaginary beings also join this fun as do swamp and water dwelling sprites and rare local wildlife - highly intelligent howler monkeys, dust birds and flesh eating gulls. Traditions are not just for humans. Even the benighted denizens of the needle park our experiment in legalised drugs honour some of these traditions.

My old friend Paul Weller who has been existing in glacier form, has grown a proboscis. Though this has not helped his singing much he is able at last to strum a few tunes and therefore join in with the first "tradition of home and hearth" The Singing of the Pudding". Everything not made of Tuesday sings something with a raspberry flavour as the Great Pudding is carried out of the kitchen and thrown in the rubbish heap.
The traditional Brodpirtian welcomes this and weaves some of the smell into a beard cosy - for his 'full bloom' the traditional ankle length beard worn by men and women alike here.This cheery ceremony for the whole family is immediately followed by locking everyone into the 'houses highest toilet' -Many Brodpirt homes have a lavatory in the chimney stack on the roof top, and the whole family locks themselves in sustained only by loo paper and Great Pudding.
Once the Masons and divorce lawyers have passed through the households helping themselves to valuable items and tasty morsels, the families emerge sweaty, dishevelled and somewhat over familiar -to celebrate with whatever is left!
And they can celebrate!
Dancing, singing, eating traditional foods, street fighting and setting things on fire! This element of the Longest Night is called 'Inappropriate Touching' for obvious reasons.

Tomorrow - the Xmas Breakfast!

Blog News

I shall be spending Xmas with my friend Mu Tai Dong, the chef and noted blogger and celebrity critic. Amongst her guests will be Marco Pierre White, the Krankies and that little mouse thing off the TV.
I shall be blogging through the festive season should anyone care to join me....

My Thrilling week!

2009-12-15T14:17:00.000-08:00

I do not know about either of you but I enjoy the run up to Xmas more than the main event - especially as once more I shall be 'on my own' - 'on the day' as they say! I enjoy the many social events I am invited to (well the one) - it is nice to be 'Mr.Popular ' like me! Our 'office party' was to be held on the 11th this year to avoid costs and to allow us all a little 'bit of fun' without compromising pickle production.

I was allowed to invite my 'partner' and as I don't have one I was torn between Mr Patels lovely daughter and the horrible Giles, its important to avoid the 'pie shop lady' at all costs as she is technically 'on heat'!! (Blush!) I did think it essential that I don't go alone - so I was forced to ask Giles.

After he had stopped laughing he said "Why don't you take your horrible children then? I am sure they would enjoy the grotty food and Portuguese Sekt on offer, they are as dim as you! Oh no, they will be in Malibu with their new father. "

I am sure thats is not true aren't you? Malibu is very stormy at this time of the year. I expect with great confidence to spend time with both of them this year - after last years 'home made presents' problem I have decided to ask my old friend Mu for some recipe tips for Xmas. A recipe for success! But I digress. Anyway Giles agreed to come as he 'had taken pity on me' after I lost all my money on the lotto fiasco. He even agreed to pay for a taxi as I was proposing to walk - its only three miles each way.

I had prepared my clothing carefully, I wore the black levi 501s which have a hole in the crotch and my 'John Travolta' shirt I even wore my lime green boxers (which have not seen an outing for a while!) - its a pity none of my 'coats' go with that as it was snowing and quite cold. Sadly when we arrived the tickets were on offer for £3.00 so I had to wait outside! Giles was upset to have to 'go in' on his own at first but I looked through the window and it was nice to see Giles dancing and having fun with all my 'pickling' colleagues. There was a tree, presents, and a travelling disco and they are looked happy, drunk and warm. It got colder and colder, and still the party went on inside. I could feel the ice and snow around me building up and my teeth chattering - after a while I lay down in the snow to sleep with my face pressed against the window. The sound of the party grew ever more distant and was replaced by more heavenly sounds. I felt darkness fall around me and in the gloom a glowing golden female figure with wings suddenly appeared. In her hands she had pies - possibly Chicken Curry - and a pint of Old lesbian - "Its time for you to go Mutleydog" she seemed to say, beckoning to me. And all at once I was warm and the smell of pies and real ale was everywhere and somehow Malibu beckoned...

Blog News

Someone has once more stolen the Unicorns Horn. Please note it cannot be used as suggested in "Beastamatts Old Book of Magyk". That would kill you....

More Luck....

2009-12-10T13:28:00.000-08:00

Quite amazingly I have won a further three lottery prizes. It happened like this.
After I sent off my £35, and my details a nice man phoned who by great luck was a clairvoyant! I took his tips - for less than the rest of the 'Christmas money' as I used to call that paltry £300. Within a day I had won 3 more lottery prizes. My whip thin friend Giles down stairs says I must lend him £10,000 to fix his 'mangina' which has gangrene issues. Then he said "You are a gullible twat - yo really are!" (He talks like that)
Then he said "For once I feel sorry for you - just throw those letters in the bin, I will lend you twenty for some grotty trash for your horrible children - if you see them, which you won't."
Can you imagine? As I am now officially (nearly!!) a millionaire I declined. I just hope some of the cheques clear by Xmas... otherwise its a bit worrying. I sent limping Giles off with a flea in his ear. Later my friend the clairvoyant called again. Unfortunately he requires a bit more money for his next tips, so I will have to wait till the first cheques arrive. I may give up my job - who needs to work when unblievable luck is just there waiting...This morning seven more wins!!

Blog News

Think jessica

Finally Fantastic Good Luck!

2009-12-04T14:35:00.000-08:00

I barely have time to post, as fantastic good luck has FINALLY struck. I have won £12855 on an Irish lottery I barely remember entering!! The letter (THE LETTER as I shall call it!) arrived this morning - but I had already left for work - so I didn't pick it up till tonight! It could not have come at a better time - thankfully I have the £25.00 required for the processing - I did have only £300 for Xmas. Now all I can hope is that the cheque arrives - and clears (!) to make this the best Xmas ever! Sorry for the short post - happy days are here again!! I shall be buying decent presents this year - oh yes!

My Makeover

2009-11-30T15:18:00.000-08:00

I realise I have left you in 'suspenders' (my joke!) 'suspense' about the rest of the 'makeover weekend' but I have encountered a few problems with my plumbing this week. That was not a metaphor of any kind - like many other people unexpected water has entered my building. My whip thin friend Giles - aka Lady Gaga - says it is punishment for gays - really - if God wants to punish people for being gay I think we can be sure it would think of more hilarious ways than a few inches of rain.

Anyway to continue from the last post. It soon became clear at the 'Travelodge! that I was the only man on the 'makeover weekend' - this meant that I had to eat 100 rashers of bacon for breakfast as the ladies only ate grapefruits and yogurt. I do think it is incumbent on those of who stay in hotels to think of the staff and not insult them by spurning their humble efforts dont you? Some people are the hotel staying class and others work in them. It is called synopsis... I think. . It is a pity that the first 'treatment' after brekkie was a 'high colonic irrigation' and I had only reached the second 's' of the morning three s's ....

I shall not dwell further as they were all wearing goggles and anyway if they want to pump water in a mans bottom what do they expect?

After that I was also barred from a session called 'inspecting your pubic region' - which I had been most looking forward to. By the time we came to 'You and your skin' the screaming women had reassembled though some did look a trifle peaky. It was quite nice and relaxing, as were the sessions on choosing colours and nail varnish and what not. I feel that the whole thing was set up as an attempt to humiliate me and as far as I am concerned that failed and I rather enjoyed it... However this Monday the shit really hit the fan (see above)....we have been barred as company from using the 'Makeover Experience' ever again. I agree with my co workers that 'It was worth it!' How many of you have ever shared a hot tub with forty women aged 18 to 50? Believe me the excreta thing was only a minor set back. Still I was glad to be home. Paul Weller has assumed some kind of gelatinous mind mould form, Geoffrey the one headed micro push-me-pull-you saw me writing this and deliberately exposed his genitalia to me in order that I would mention it here. Well I won't. Mrs Scroggins has built a giant model of me in a heroic pose from pies in Richard Branson Square on the corner of Fart Street. If that is not harassment, then what is?

Blog News

Members need to be warned that ivory is no longer accepted at the bar following a raid.

Hamster Dick Indeed....

2009-11-22T06:59:00.000-08:00

Like many of you I have experienced a few ups and downs in my life but I feel I have emerged from a somewhat rocky path stronger and more able to cope. To recap. Over the last few years I have been divorced, lost a business and been wrongly accused of being a sex pest by Mr Patel's lovely daughter, subjected to a hate campaign by a deranged pie woman, had a flood which resulted in the street being filled with misdirected JCBs. I have had my flat briefly occupied by Dust Birds, and in addition an infestation of 'spirit beings'. I have been sacked from my job as Head of IT for pickle manufacturer – spent an unsuccessful year as a 'tourism supremo', tried to get overland to Australia and been arrested in North Korea, been mocked in public houses and forced to have sex with a Kate Moss look a like. I have been lured into a field of cannibalistic angry turnips by a Scotchman in a kilt, fallen down a ski slope, been pelted with ball-bearings and cats shit, and had my eyes scorched by burning magnesium in my house. I have been subjected to hoaxes and practical jokes and there is a demeaning video of me on Youtube.

All in all it has been a series of catastrophes and that is just the tip of the iceberg, there are many things I cannot reveal on this blog for fear of impugning the innocent.

Anyhoo. I was delighted to be offered a chance for a 'Makeover Weekend' in a country hotel by some of junior female colleagues no doubt desperate to get back in my good books after the Youtube debacle. I accepted the offer with alacrity – I may say and a certain quite dignity. After they approached me I was touched to hear them giggling from nerves. It must be hard for them to say sorry and I was moved. Luckily the event was the next morning and I applied for the necessary days holiday at the last moment – and was pleased to find that I could indeed 'be done without' for the days! It was the first paid holiday I had had for years!

The 'country hotel' was named “Travelodge” - which I thought most reminiscent of old England Coaching Inns and there was ample parking just a twenty minute walk away – luckily I had taken my 'shopping trolley' on wheels!

Once enscioned (as we writers say ) in my 'room' handily positioned on the 'inter-mezzanine' floor I headed for the 'facilities' as directed by 'Information leaflet' as there was at least two hours before the “Drinks and Nibbles” started the formal part of the 'Makeover Experience'! A lesser man than I might have made a fool of himself straight away. The first room contained what some may have thought to be a small swimming pool, but was obviously a large bath! I quickly undressed completely – I took my soap and washed myself all over – the first bath I have had since the nests in the boiler issue cut off the hot water, then I entered one of the side rooms to find it stifling hot, because someone had left a small brazier alight in there! I grabbed the brazier burning my hands in the process and disposed of the brazier in the bath. Some alarms were going off so I decided to leave it to professionals, and went into the next room. It was full of steam! I left the door open and went through a door marked “Massage”. I think we all know what that really means – even innocents like Ms Smack and MJ so I lay on my back on the small table and a few moments later to my horror a large man in white clothes came in! He said “Put that away – you wouldn't impress a hamster with that!” I have to reveal that I had become slightly excited by the thought of the 'massage' ahem....

Later at the “Drinks and Nibbles” I heard several times the words “Hamster dick” as I passed through the party – but I think I have survived that encounter with my usual aplomb and ca ne faire rien as the French say... . By the way all the other people here so far are women – I expect the men for the 'makeover' will arrive tomorrow... TBC

Blog News

Will the person who has taken the sock suspenders from the clothes horse on the landing please return them – they hard to come by these days – especially those made with good quality catsgut.. Thank you.

Is this Humour?

2009-11-18T11:05:00.000-08:00

This is some kind of humour Blog apparently. the question is - which kind?

Radio Four Humour

"Those 'emails' how strange - always full of people selling medicines for erectile dysfunction and ladies with 'breast problems' and a man from Nigeria who has mysteriously got ten million pounds to share with me... And why is it called Spam? In my favourite Monty Python sketch the word 'spam' is used for maximum funniness - not any more... and don't get me onto 'gay' as John Donne said 'Gay is the Heart of man' - try typing that on the internet and you won't want to bend over in the shower! Have you noticed how many people eat things on public transport - on the buses of course and the tube, strange things called 'burgers' and 'pizzas' my old Gran wouldn't want anyone eating her hotpot on the tube - thats all I can say!"

Private Eye Humour

"News from the Blogs

Righto: Its all a Eurosoviet conspiracy
Sweetie - like yarr man - I love sparklies..
Serious person. I doubt the validirty of 'Call me daves' position on this issue...
Righto: its all a Brussels conspiracy.
Sweetie: I have big boobs!!!!!!b LOL
Righto: I hate the Eurosoviets dont you?
Sweetie : Whatever like yaaaah! LOL
Serious Person: I have big booobs LOL!!!!!"

on ad infinitum Yawwwwwwwn

Mutleythedog

"Oh look a monster - oh look John Lennon is in the pub with Reese Witherspoon and Hitler and they are drinking beer! Oh look a vampire - over there with a naked lady and some ghosts...I am accident prone yesterday I slipped on a banana skin...some beers have funny names - ladies have boobs. I am a twat."

Ozzie Humour

Are things funny? Can't say i had noticed. Never got jokes at all really. Lets all shag and maybe we will feel better...I am quite utterly totally sincere about this.

What kind of humour do you think we should stick to?

Blog News

I wonder if we can stretch to a second Candelabra for the under Butlers pantry? He is complaining that he cannot see to play dominoes with his friend, the headless creature, and I get the point. Also we are in dire need of toilet roll cosies....

4 0 0 P O S T S ! ! !!!

2009-11-09T14:52:00.000-08:00

"Many famous people have viewed your Blog - which is somewhat infamous because of your irritating inane comments on other peoples blogs, over the last 400 posts - and if you had just once written something insightful, moving, witty, clever, sexy, charming or funny you would have been at least been mentioned in The Guardian or The Sunday Times as they are desperate for copy. But as you are a boring tit, you have squandered this opportunity by writing such complete inconsequential shit!" My friend Mr Beast confided this in me over a pint of his favourite port, tequila and sheep milk at my 400th post blog party last weekend. I am afraid he was rather in his cups, as we say in the South, and there was a distinctly unhealthy sweaty sheen to his skin.
However, my whip thin friend Giles a.k.a Lady Ga-Ga seemed also determined to bury the knife deep. He went on and on about how my tedious interest in Supermarkets and toothache was enough to drive a Nun to suicide (which I once did - but thats another story!) and that 'I should welcome the comfort of obscurity' - odd turn of phrase if you ask me.
Only Paul Weller who has transformed into a sea sponge and is living inside the Baby Belling was prepared to defend me, however as sea sponges communicate via chemical impulses conveying mood and and movement, he was not in full voice. I look forward to him taking some form with vocal chords and digits...

I started the day choosing a breakfast wine - I think only a Saturne wine truely accompanies a bowl of Aldi Vanilla Cushions - my preferred celebratory breakfast - don't you? After that I took all the small cups down to the yachting club where 'Fast Eddie' - our celebrated zombie barman - was mixing up a special punch for the day! The recipe contains kerosene and is not for the faint hearted! Luckily there was 70 of the 77 pints left - I shall drink like a king for months!

The VIP Lounger was erected - despite not having been out since 'camping' last year it seemed quite stable. I sat on it alone all night. Geoffrey the one-headed micro push-me-pull-you was there with his special friend the hair brush, as was the skeleton with a luminous skull who accompanied me the North Oremsby, and who I was not able to abandon in Appa Naya when we went ski-boarding that time. The Mayor and his scantily clad lovelies popped in boosting the 'crowd' to 11 for a while - but he said "I have better things to do than this - I thought Paul Weller and some authors were coming!" - and he pointed directly at me and said 'Get back in your taxi Sanwar - we need to get a move on!' Whats that all about?

I had prepared a delicious curried Black Forest Gateaus so that Mr and Mrs Patel would feel at home - and I felt like throwing it at him! Later Mr Patel asked me if I was insane? Its nice that our 'incomers; are so concerned for our mental health isn't it?

I took the left over 'food' home - it is hard to carry a whole 'bin bag' through torrential rain and a gale isn't it? Parties that finish early are the best my mum always said - because everyone had such a nice time they didnt need anymore fun! I think I have proven her right. Almost all the Sunday Mirror crosswords had been done - though later when I checked I saw that Lady Ga-Ga had tried to fit the words 'Satan Rules' and 'I hate MUFC' into every box, spoiling it for Eddie and me.

How would you have made a party a bit better attended? I am afraid I felt a bit let down....

Blog News

the 'turtle neck sweater' is almost in our grasp!!

399th post!!

2009-11-03T17:34:00.000-08:00

Readers Letters

2009-10-30T15:09:00.000-07:00

Far more of you than makes sense like to send me 'amusing ' emails. Today I produce a few excerpts - and a sort of commentary from me as far as I can be bothered! .

I have taken the hint from your blog that Lady Gaga is actually a man and is your whip thin friend 'Giles' hence your naughty remarks about his 'mangina'- are you sexually ambivalent at all?

I am hardly ambivalent Mr B! Is the curate still knitting you some 'wank mittens' as promised?

I have also experienced a situation where an eighties musician transformed into a larvae and back in my house – in my case the Echo and the Bunnymen vocalist, Ian McCulloch, pupated at the back of my sofa. Do you have any explanation for this phenomenon?

In this case the writer is Jimmy Saville. What can I say? Thoughts please everyone...

The subjects you have covered recently- rude bankers and poorly behaved chavs, illnesses, your dislike of practical jokes such as the one with exploding food -, all lead me to believe that you are not in your ‘forties’ as claimed but nearer to sixty or even seventy! Also - you seem unable to accept your Asian neighbours as normal human beings – a sure sign of geriatric problems. I expect you read The Daily Mail and go to bed at 10 in the evening with a mug of horlicks, because there few people as boring and predictable as you. I admit the explosion in the saucepan was a bit cruel though. Also your attitude to money shows you are either very poor, very old or both.

This anonymous comment cut to the quick. I raised the whole matter straight away at Darby and Joan...

I wonder why they make trousers with Velcro closures on the pockets? It’s a problem for those of us prone to wear silky scanties as they routinely become attached to the Velcro when in the tumble dryer and we end out going shopping with underwear attached to our clothes. Not that this has even happened to me.

Yes it has Merry dear! About 3 times a week...

I have read with interest on your blog – is true you like dogging? I also like the dogging! Maybe we do it together some time?

This comment was from my old friend Jeffrey Archer....

I am about to leave England forever and I will not forgive myself if I don’t ask you – Are you really that bloke who guest wrote an episode of The Wombles’ with Mike Batt and ended up as the fake guitarist in their Top of the Pops appearances… you know who I mean…

No, thats not me at all.... ahem...

I have a splinter in my left thumb. Can you recommend someone to help at all?
Pinnochio

Dear Pinnochio - how is that possible - its like me having a meat splinter....

I am looking for a home phone number for your friend Bonita. I know it is the Canterbury area, but there is no way of easily sorting phone numbers by first name. I have already made over 500 calls to numbers in the area - to no avail… please help!

This email was from Bryan Appleyard - I have asked him to cease and refrain....

Is there any reason we have no heard more about the adventures of Geoffrey your micro push-me-pull-you? Is he dead? Did you accidentally lower your vast bulk on to him as he lay sleeping in his window box? You really are a lardy arsed bastard…

Oh Honestly! I make this crap up you know- also many people prefer a generously framed man... ahem

My name is Myna I am an eighteen year old virgin and i want to show you exclusively some of the pictures from my first nude session. At first I was a bit shy but soon I managed to hold my legs open - when I looked at the pictures I couldnt believe how far I had gone...

This email came with a link - which naturally enough I have deleted. Who wants to see drunken cats??

Banking

2009-10-21T10:55:00.000-07:00

I do not often have cause to visit a bank, but in preparation for my Christmas shopping which I like to finish before the end of October, I made a small ‘pilgrimage’. As usual I wanted to ‘withdraw’ £25.00 in crisp ‘fivers’ which I have normally found covers the presents I buy. (I get a lot less back I can tell you!) When I arrived inside the bank I was surprised to find a long queue of people between several temporary barriers awaiting service. Of course I joined the line full of ‘Goodwill to all Mankind’ at this season of the year – of course I do know it is not Christmas but still!

A burly fellow behind me was of a rather different frame of mind chuntering to himself about 'time wasters' and 'old people' cluttering up his bank. I managed to ignore all this 'bally-hoo' despite the fact that he was spoiling my day out and it was less than half an hour till I reached the front of the queue! Each of the nice people behind the glass had a number and over a sort of tannoy a lady with a strange voice assigned each of to a number as it became available oddly she said the same thing each time. I commented on this to my fat irritable friend - who responded "You need your head examined you tosser!"
Red faced with shame I hurried over the "Number 4" where I realised there was a little microphone to talk to the nice lady behind the glass. Unfortunately it was directly where the rude 'builder type' could hear my exchanges. I began - naturally enough by introducing myself and making a few discursive remarks about the weather. Then I asked for the ladies help in completing my 'cheque to cash'. She studied my book intently then called over a different older lady "Sorry" she says "These cheques are out of date!"
"I have had my cheque book since 1979 !"- I replied. "They have always worked till now!"

I spoke carefully into the microphone - but the lady replied "Please don't do that"

Well it took over and hour to get me a new cheque book so I had to go home - but I have my £25.00 and shall be off to Woolworths next weekend. The bulky man was charmless to the end, departing by saying I should use the 'cash machine'... I think not my bald friend. I think not...

Blog News

I have been sent a bag of chocolate peanuts - which fairness demands I should distribute on a one each basis to all my readers. If you would like one please just let me know! If you had a bag of sweets to distribute how would you do it? The mail strike is giving me some worries... I shall be glad when Mr Brown solves it...

2009-10-16T16:32:00.000-07:00

I have some new posts here ** Alloted Span **

Cooking with Cheese!

2009-10-14T05:26:00.000-07:00

There has been a lot of talk about 'anti-social behaviour' of late - personally I have often felt like doing some of it myself. I have recently decided to squidge the little wax wrappers of my 'Babybelle lite' cheese into revenge filled balls and leave them carefully on the chairs of my 'colleagues'. I have spotted several going out with red blotches on their nether regions and you know I am glad! Almost no one has had to tolerate the kind of 'anti-social behaviour' that I have suffered recently- including - inter dalia - occupation of my only window sill by a over sexed radioactive howler monkey, an escape of endangered animals being taken from the West counties safari parks and petting zoos -to the Euro-abattoir across the road which meant that lions and wildebeest roamed our streets for several days. I have endured persistent phone calls from the dreadful triple breasted Pie shop lady who is on heat, and I have been banned from the corner shop by Mr. Patel for mistaking the name of my wood working magazine and getting him to order 'Screw' - which is in 'The Hustler' range of adult titles (apparently). Mr. Patel was subsequently visited by some kind of salesman for that company who offered him no less than 27 different erotic publications. That is not my fault is it? Nor is it my fault that Mrs. Patel came home from her dry stone walling course early. I could not have anticipated that her 'millstone grit' would be of inferior quality could I? Even the millstone grit people did not know that and they have over 20 years experience with the wretched stuff.

I have a lovely new cookbook courtesy of a slightly batty friend (she must sadly remain anonymous!) ,called "Make a Meal of Cheese" published by the "Cheese Information Service" in Thames Ditton in 1973. I was tempted by 'Fluffy Cheese Ramekins' and by the exciting 'Cheese Roundabout' but as you can imagine - see above - the idea of 'Cheddar Curry' caught my imagination!

I fondly imagined a evening 'au deux' with Mr and Mrs Patel swooning over this Anglo-Asian delicacy wondering who their mysterious benefactor was and that I revealed at a suitable time and all modesty would quickly be able to regain access to 'The Sunday Mirror' of which I am currently starved.

I can only say that it is actually unimaginably horrid. The first part of the recipe went OK, the addition of sultanas was a bit difficult as I only had 'dried mixed fruit' but this substitution seemed to work. Then you add a lot of 'cheddar cubes' (I used cheese triangles!) to the gooey brown mixture which smelt a bit like Daddies Sauce and a bit like Christmas cake. This is where the recipe went down hill. The whole thing just turned into a sort of rubbery slimey gloop. It looked - if I may use some caustic imagery - like a dog who had eaten a lot of festive leftovers had accidentally relieved himself in an omelette.

Naturally the Patels were offended when I left it on their doorstep. I do not know what I was thinking. My efforts to contact the cheese people to complain have produced no results - I am not surprised they have gone out of business if all their recipes are as foul.

Can anyone send me more helpful cookbooks to help me 'build bridges' with my numerous gay and ethnic minority neighbours?

Blog News

The addition of a 'Glow in the Dark Yo-Yo' to the tray of 'objects to distract' in the upstairs gentlemens 'long-stay lavatory' for members and visitors with constipation at first seemed to have gone down well. Sadly, and perhaps predictably, Mr Beast was involved in an incident and the Curates trousers were ruined. I am now saving for some philately tweezers - donations to the usual account.

Practical Jokes

2009-10-05T07:22:00.001-07:00

I think there are two kinds of people in this world – those that are fond of practical jokes and those who are not. I am one of the second kind of person, but I must say I seem to be surrounded by people who delight in them!

Last week a friend suggested as prank that I cook magnesium for my tea. Unappealing as this idea was I gave it a go, and was horribly blinded when the whole pan suddenly ignited. As it was the weekend and I didn't see anyone I did not know until Monday morning when I met my whip thin friend Giles in the stairwell that my eyebrows had been terribly singed.
“Ha ha ha!” He said scornfully “You look just like that little fat one from Little Britain!” I am unaware of what this means – but I have little doubt it was an insult. I can only say that my hurt was tempered when I noticed a damp patch at his crotch – it is a sign that the operation to correct his 'mangina' surgery has not gone well. Its wrong to take pleasure in someone else's discomfort isn't it? As it was raining I had unearthed my trusty umbrella – you may recall that last year someone filled it with dried cats poo as a joke. I found out as I unfurled it into the grey and rainy morn that this time it was ball bearings. I think that is spiteful don't you?

To make matters worse in my confusion I trod on some of them and sat down on the corned beef and piccalilli sandwich I had prepared for my lunch break – now reduced to fifteen minutes in our new 'efficiency drive'. I have had a yellow stain on the left buttock of my 'George at Asda' suit all week as a result.

We are now entering the build up to Christmas -a major part of annual sales is over the festive season, and this accounts for the diminution of our eating times. In the bowels of the factory the highly trained howler monkeys are at work in the bottling plant and the great clouds of vinegar and beetroot flavoured steam hang like a nuclear winter over the town.

But even at work I have not been able to avoid 'hilarity' of various kinds. Its been my habit for a while to slip off my shoes whilst working as they are a little small because I do not understand the new 'European' sizing system and accidentally purchased a pair of size sixes. They seem to have been made for an elf not by one. When I was ready to leave I found they had gone. Disappeared. Stolen of course. In their place was a small note. It read “We shall return your shoes if you take of your trousers in the foyer and sing the the chorus of 'Paparzzi' by Lady Gaga!” I had no idea who the Lady in question was of course – but that was when I discovered the piccalilli stain. No shoes appeared and I had to walk across the car park in bare feet scrubbing my buttock, and stepping in puddles. At least no one had seen my performance – I substituted 'Hot Diggity Dog' by my favourite singer Perry Como in place of Lady Gaga - I comforted myself – how was I to know that they have CCTV coverage of the office foyer these days....

Blog News

The Blog Restoration Fund is on track after a large donation by Richard Branson whose statue graces our town square named in his honour. His donation will go towards a retirement home for elderly mythical beasts and retired imaginary beings.

Where would you like to retire to dear reader? After this week I am favouring becoming a hermit myself...

Autumn Solstice

2009-09-25T13:18:00.000-07:00

I have missed this years Autumn Solstice - a first for me as I have written about it every year on blogger since 1971. But the post solstice parties are also worth a mention as they are largely nude. Since the Liberals took over the council, Puffin Night has officially taken a back seat in the press, as it is not to sympathetic to minorities and whatnot. However, this was in reality one of the biggest and best ever - with a massive delegation from the Reykjavik wife swappers club stealing almost all the prizes (Most Beaten, Most Orgasms, Most Blood loss, etc etc ) I however, won 'most teabagged' for Britain.And Mr Beast won most gaseous, a hard fought victory over a a three legged delegation from Dorchester.

Mrs Scroggins provided the catering for the terrifying display from her base on Fart Street, the corner of Richard Branson Square - mainly tequila pasties and 3 litre bottles of the West Country's finest Frosty Jack! Did you know that is 58 UK alcohol units!!

The performanced by the howler monkey synchronised swimming team also broke boundaries... Oh yes. Some rules are there for the good of all, but I am afraid to say that monkeys are not aware of them! I was quite flushed after watching - is it incest when its monkeys?

A team from the Needle Park also scored highly as they are now part of Britain's free heroin initiative. I do like living in a country where you can get heroin on the national health don't you?

Blog News

An old friend suggested that I eat magnesium as a 'cure all', but it is harder to get hold of than you might think. I have a friend who is a chemistry teacher and I promised her certain favours in exchange. However what she gave me was a sort of tape on a reel. I decided to snip it into bits and heat in a pan to 'soften it up' Dear reader this was not a good idea. I cannot describe the resulting explosion, - like looking into the heart of the sun. I am still blinded 12 hours on. Obviously it is madness to attempt to eat it - its the dietary equivalent of Semtex or nitroglycerin.

Unexplained Pains!

2009-09-22T15:34:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had unexplained pains in different parts of your body at all? Nor me till now!

I woke up in the night with an excruciating pain in the left side of my jaw. It was so bad I flailed about and I knocked over the “Memento of Corfu” jug that mother got for me when she came back from holiday when I was eleven. Water poured through the floor causing protests from the Mr & Mr on the floor below. I am not saying the floors are thin, but that should not happen should it? But I digress. I expect you are thinking this might be another of my infamous “toothache” posts, but no. When I woke up the pain had quite gone and I applied my Aldi “Cherry Mint” toothpaste with abandon. Instead I noticed a dull ache in my lower abdomen on the left just below my “Donald Duck” piercing. It was not infected again, quite the opposite. I had begun to think it might be bowel cancer – as it throbbed so, when suddenly it went!

A few moments later a different rather sharper pain appeared without warning just below my right nipple. Is your heart there? I do not know. That lasted several hours then faded away, leaving me with a very itchy patch of chest hair. In quick succession and overlapping I suffered pains in my right shin, followed by throbbing which may be a blood clot, there is certainly a lump there and a large patch of 'loss of sensation' on my left thigh. Also when I turn on the back ring on the “Baby Belling” it blows all the lights out. This may be unrelated of course, as may the unexpected collapse of my new “CD Tower”....

This evening I have a numb scalp and a weird neck 'twang' at certain angles. Its all most odd. And an itchy foot and some peculiar hot patches between the numbness. Also I have been seeing things as I am certain that I spotted new House of Commons Speaker, John Bercow, with whom I was at Poly years ago, in the bar of the Ropemakers nursing a glass of crème de menthe. I was distracted dodging buying a round, when I looked back the slight grey figure had dissipated.Does anyone have any idea what medical condition may be afflicting me?

Blog News

Response to the Blog Appeal for a ruby encrusted hairbrush to sit on the white leather poof, between the maracas, in the members area has not been great. I do urge you to dig deep, as there is no greater cause than restoring the name and stature of this blog, which I know for many of you is your Alma Mater!

Technolog and Gadgets Blog!

2009-09-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

I have decided that my exciting blog needs a revamp and what better theme could there be than “Technology and Gadgets” to interest both my readers, who, like me, are thoroughly modern swinging ‘young’ fellows about town. Being on the cutting edge of technology is an essential matter of life style for we young bucks, and also my Blog sponsor – The British Lard Council – has urged me to write about anything other than lard. Indeed they have banned me from publishing an article I had prepared – “Me and Lard – a Personal History” for some reason. It is a little erotic in places, but I digress!

Technology and Gadgets

I decided to start with my own exciting belongings, and then ask both of you to nominate different items and go-ahead gadgets for review in turn and turn about – if that’s OK? This will also allow me to establish my credentials – I am sure you will agree.

The Socktopus

This washing day whirligig is a must for everyone with socks – constructed out of rigid plastic and in a choice of two colours (blue or green!) it brings an end to those ‘where shall I hang my socks to dry’ blues which afflict modern young men so much. Once purchased I guarantee it will never be got rid of! It’s a snip at only £31.00 from outlets such as Ikea and Fine Fare!

The Signature Stamp

Tired of signing all those personal letters and cheques? Solve those ‘aching hand’ blues with a personalised signature stamp allowing flawless reproduction of your moniker on all official documents. Letter writing is such a bind – maybe one day we will be able to send messages via computing machines? Till then, keep bang up to date with the signature stamp!

Electronic Vagina

This is an essential part of my daily life and forms the centrepiece of my luggage whenever I travel outside the county. This whirring device provides endless solace after failed dates, a sleeping aid if trapped in a car boot or loft space, a finger warmer on cold nights. It may be used in conjunction with an ‘inflatable booty lady’ or alone. Personally I find the ‘booty lady’ slightly hard to fully inflate and she ends up a bit ‘crinkly’.

The Styptic Pencil

A Must for those ‘minor nick from shaving’ blues. It’s a sort of miracle pencil which stops the tiny wounds from bleeding, it completely replaces weeny bits of toilet paper which I used to use ‘back in the day’! Warning – It does not seal larger wounds such as stabbings or bullets and that, please phone an emergency service if you are shot or stabbed for any reason!

Blog Appeal

I have decided to renew the ‘Blog Building Appeal’ – which if you remember had already raised enough to put a new roof on the West wing, to buy a jewel encrusted foot stool or ‘poof’ and to re-veneer the Blog suitcases. This time I am aiming for a ivory and ruby inlaid hairbrush to be placed between the Maracas in the ‘members and guests’ only area. What do you think?

How Long is a Piece of String?

2009-09-01T15:35:00.000-07:00

“How long is a piece of string?” is an answer I sometimes get as a return question to my innocent enquiries. By the time I have puzzled through this puzzling response I usually find the correspondent has left. Indeed –I have found that my many friends knowing of my love of quiet prefer to leave me alone when I go to the pub, many of them vacate the bar when they see me coming, in order that I can drink my ‘Old Lesbian No.9’ (A stout like brew flavoured with crabmeat!) without interruption. With hilarious joking remarks such as “My God –its Britain’s most boring man – I am off!” They kindly depart, sometimes sacrificing nearly full drinks for my benefit – Its great to have friends like this isn’t it? So it was this weekend when I popped down to the Ropemakers for a breakfast libation.

But I digress. The latest person to ask me about string, was none other than my old friend Liam Gallagher who used to be in a band called Oasis and was now ensconced at the bar of the pub in a fug of cannabis smoke. I asked him long he was giving up his exciting singing career for and he replied 'How Long is a piece of string?' Well there is no answer to that is there?

Luckily my old friend from the music industry – (Paul Weller of course – Naughty!) has started to reconstitute from his cocoon form into a nearly recognisable human form. Though made of an aspic like jelly. He fell into a long conversation with Liam and I had to visit the ‘little boys room’. Despite my efforts to rush to avoid this happening, by the time I came back they had disappeared. This has happened to me before which is why I don’t wash my hands as I have several times managed to return at speed with enough swiftiness to stop people slipping out. People are very kind to respect my solitude but I would like someone to talk to occasionally. I didn’t speak to anyone at all on Sunday – kindness can go too far I think. I do know people mean well but still…

On Monday - I decided to invent an invisibility suit to allow me to enter places like pubs and whatnot unseen and avoid their kindness by suddenly appearing like magic amongst them. I did not have the idea of hanging about public lavatories in it at all – oh no! The suit works completely and so I have managed to introduce myself to several conversations already!

Invisibility is not all its cracked up to be. What would you do if you borrowed my unique device?

Blog News

The Blog Fighting Fund aimed at a private prosecution of The Governor of the Bank of England has risen to £1.23 to which I am adding my internet profits from Google Adsense of 69 cents. We shall soon bring him down. The monster!!

Summer in Devoon

2009-08-17T14:30:00.001-07:00

The land at the top of The Farwaway Tree has changed and the Quasimodo Convention has disappeared chuckling and clanking into the darkness leaving behind bevies of distraught lady howler monkeys who in 11 short months will give birth to strangely humped radioactive babies obsessed with campanology. Its scorching August in Brodpirt and everything is having a little break as the horribly polluted atmosphere reaches new extremes of temperature, foetid and breathless causing outbreaks of 'asthma' and cancer. In the searing heat weary Flesh-Eating Gulls plod through the sky their little feet pointing upwards towards the distant purpled hazed sun, imaginary beings cluster in the shade fanning their steaming hot faces with unrecognizable body parts and even the radioactive beasts tire of endless dry humping and instead find relief dangling their genitalia in the cooling sea. The wondrous effects of the 'Brodport Full Bloom' the terrifying knee length beard worn by Devoons peasant people is clear as when soaked in neat alcohol it acts as a 'cooling tower' for its human bearer.

Dangle legged prostitutes emerge blinking and pale into the sun from the cages and confines of the traveling brothel and disport themselves in impromptu sex shows on the sands of West beach to the horror of passing families. Soon they will be burnt to a sufficient pink to satisfy even the most extreme form of sadistic demand as my picture shows!.

On the voluminous decks of 'Old Smokey' ( Now owned by Correctum plc)' the gargantuan prison ship which houses most of Britains most dangerous offenders - prisoners sunbathe naked or play quoits, cribbage or stage knife fights. On the beaches penniless urchins beg for money from tourists who respond by scattering pennies mixed with broken glass and rat poison - causing endless delight!

On the benches of Richard Branson Square around the gently playing waters of the Virgin Airlines Fountains, Old Mrs Scroggity may be seen displaying her enormous triple mammaries to maximum effect whilst feeding left over pie crust to the pigeons and rats. A tribe of artfully deranged Scotch men lives in the field of Angry Turnips - Devoons famed talking vegetable, in summer they like to stay entirely still until hikers are amongst them, then they are devoured.

The 'Blood Line' is the Tourist Boards new name for the heritage walk tracing the route by which endangered and unwanted Zoo animals from the many small west country safari parks are delivered screaming and yowelling to the huge town abattoir now dwarfed by the Euro-Aldi and 'Collegatorium' or Education delivery centre (previously St Andrews Boys Grammar). It is a wonderful attraction for visitors of every age! The old quarter centred on Fart Street is alive with visitors, mainly Albanians and serial rapists using the ancient sex offenders right to escape prosecution and instead fill the tables of the many pubs, bars and street cafes...

Even at the 'Needle Park' - our exciting experiment in legalised heroin a holiday atmosphere is in place. Not that anyone would notice as the inhabitants hardly ever move.

For our summer fete a parade of bouffant haired Liberal Councillors, stolid serious Masons and black clad divorce lawyers with their cigars and showers of tenners leads the parade. Eventually the whole town joins their entourage = society moving as one and no one left behind as Dave Cameron says...

Blog News

Several of my more eccentric and I may say - more unfortunate - relatives have joined my list of 'Blog Followers;! My competition and challenge is to spot - "Who is related to Mutleythedog?"

Travelling Overseas!

2009-08-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

I for one do not especially like leaving our sceptic isle as foreigners are generally rather smelly, have unpredictable currencies and eat at weird times of the day - such as insisting on three course lunches.

Its for this reason I returned for the 'cash alternative' my free Eurostar tickets, courtesy of 'My Little Pony' (TM) competition. Only a fool would go on an underwater train. I took the £14.99 out for some shopping. I got a new loo seat at Aldi - dont you love it? Having a hunch back seems to be the new black as they say, thats what I thought. But the Brodpurt Conference Centre, Library and inter active multicultural event Centre is actually hosting a world conference of Quasimodoes. There is actually a union for the physically challenged bell ringer!

By the way Paul Weller has awakened and he says 'hi'!

In the Ropemakers I have the misfortune to meet Mrs Scroggins the pie shop lady, who has been receiving counselling which has released her inner libido. Hence her unprovoked lust for my body. I quickly moved to the Gentlemens Bar where 'Girls Aloud' are living it large with Bonita stripping on a table top! I made my excuses and left...

A Summer Short Story....

2009-08-02T08:32:00.000-07:00

“ Nobody loves me – everybody hates me – think I'll go and eat worms...” The sound of Paul Weller singing in chrysalis form under the bath is disconcerting to say the least, especially when he gives a weird rasping sound between the words like the guitars he used to be so famous for playing. Nevertheless the Mr and Mr from the middle flat are so entranced by his fame that they come round everyday to hear him. “Its like our own private gig!” they say. I personally think they are trying to steal my collection of the “Shires of Wales” tea towels after the incident with the washing up last year. Due to the credit crunch I have been economising in various ways – e.g. re-using tea bags. After use I hang them on my “Socktopus” to dry, then re-use them. I call this procedure “teabagging”!

On Saturday,as the weather was fine I decided to go for a nice country walk. I always take my food with me, the same as when I go to restaurants, in order to control the 'costs' see (see above!) - so I went to Mrs Scroggins Pie Shop on the corner of Fart Street and Richard Branson Square and fought (fort?) my way through the crowd of 'Big Issue' sellers gathered outside. Mrs Scroggins herself was behind the counter, a fearsome sight (site?) with her three giant bosoms barely concealed beneath a 'Katie Price' T-Shirt.

“Anymore trouble from you and you're barred!” she boomed in her stentorian voice - rattling the cage doors of the Travelling Brothel moored outside the shop.

I decided to take the bull by the horns and explain a recent incident which has lead to a little unpleasantness between myself and the mistress of pastry.

“Madam” I began “It was a simple misunderstanding...” I was about to explain that when I received the invite to the opening of her “West Wing” extension of the Pie Shop, under the soubriquet “Come as you Are” I misunderstood this exhortation to mean come as you are when you open the invite. As it was my first letter other than debt collectors demands that I had received for 17 months so I opened it whilst performing my ablutions... well the rest is history. Nobody wants to see a 17 stone man wearing nothing but a surgical truss and sock suspenders. Apparently.

“Too late!” she boomed - “I now know that you are in love with me! I understand” and she fluttered her eyelids at me in a winsome way -what looked like an attempt at smile disturbing the many lines of wobbling jowls. Naturally terror rendered me speechless and I accepted her packet of floury comestibles in a shaking hand whilst she twittered on about “Going out together for a promenade and setting a date for our nuptials etc etc.”

With my Corned Beef Fritter in Puff pastry safe in my hand and all thoughts of a country walk cleared from my mind I staggered home in state of shock haunted by the site (sight?) of her giant beetroot stained teeth....... To Be Continued...

Blog News

I have dozens of emails from such kind people about the sad death of Mutley the dog. Thanks to everyone - I have been enormously touched and grateful and it has reaffirmed my believe in the essential goodness of humanity. Thank you.

A Blog Appeal

2009-07-24T09:07:00.000-07:00

I may have to amend my plan to carry out a sponsored walk around Britain, because, as an irate emailer has pointed out, this is 2,500 miles (or 16750 KM for our metric minded friends according to my 'pocket' calculator!) and I would have to walk 500 miles a day. I have looked into this and concluded that it is probably impossible unless I was Dwayne Chambers!

Can anyone propose a similar smaller challenge I could attempt instead?

Bare in mind that;

I am allergic to nuts

I have already climbed Mount Everest and run the London Marathon (unofficially!)

I cannot swim very well apart from the 'breast stroke' (nudge nudge!)

I need to keep the cold off my chest in case I catch 'swine flu' (Oink Oink!!)

I have anti-chafing cream available courtesy of the British Lard Council.

I am slightly uncoordinated so am unlikely to be able to balance things like the dildoes and sex toys people keep sending me...

I tried snowboarding last year and never did very well...

I shall be accompanied by a skeleton with a luminous head and a midegt one headed push-me-pull-you named Geoffrey.

My first sponsor is Paul Weller - who is in chrysalis form under the bath...

Blog News

I shall be writing a few memoirs of Mutley the actual dog, who died two weeks ago and whose picture still adorns this blog. They will be on my 'short story' blog a bit later on as I write them.

Blazing July!

2009-07-22T14:57:00.000-07:00

As usual I am off on my hols this year - with my statutory five days paid holiday ! Like last year I have set myself a challenge - I am walking round the whole coast of the UK (excluding Northern Ireland) to raise funds for charity. I set off on Friday 24th July and hope to be complete by Friday 31st, but I do have the first and second August in case of problems. This year my chosen charities are for distressed bloggers and former dog owners... sponsorship of 1 p a mile is a bill of £6,700 if I complete the course, according to the calculator Grandpa left in his will! (Warning. Other charities may benefit).

I set off from Dover docks at 5.00am on Friday! Giles is coming to wish me off, as is Porteous my line manager at the pickle factory. I know you will both be there in spirit.

Blog News

Life has been a bit sad of late what with dogs dying and me feeling a bit poorly.

Coming Soon!

2009-07-17T16:56:00.001-07:00

- " Pies, boobs, social accidents, embarrassing sex, beer with weird names, perverted teens, Masons, pop stars, corrupt policemen, holidays in hell, monsters, prison ships, gratuitous nudity, talking vegetables, rubber gloves, flesh eating gulls, politics, celebrities, steam trains, philosophers, famous friends, Paul Weller, trips, the mooing phone, rotting genitals, pies, Icelandic sex perverts, wildlife reports, the West country, abattoirs, west bay, push-me-pull yous, pickles, mothers porcelain, pagan ceremonies, beetroot,and best of all radioactive howler monkeys!"