Archive for May, 2006

Wednesday, May 31st, 2006

Well, we do like a nice cup of Earl Grey at the moment. Apparently it’s good for me too being a treatment for fever and intestinal worms. [ Reassuring to know ]. The Bergamot is a disinfectant and an antidepressant and it reduces anxiety by calming the nervous system. [No wonder I feel so bloody good all the time – there was me thinking it was all the drugs]. Jean-Luc Picard likes it too so it must be OK.

Well, how about having a bash at the love lips quiz down below – only 55 questions still to go cmon cmon.

Lips of lurve

Sunday, May 28th, 2006

The recent huge popularity of BT’s Tom Baker text to speech service is due in no small part to the delight of having the power to control someone else’s voice and make it say whatever you like. Tom, I believe, is now taking a break so I’ve been looking for a new disembodied voice to play out my schoolboy humour on. What better than a talking condom? Indeed, what better than a talking condom with a choice of male and female voices and French, German, Italian or American accents? Indeed, what better than being able to email the resultant messages to your mates too?

I’ve spent so long messing around with this thing I’m starting to go blind. The site is part of the headline grabbing Swiss government Federal Health Office stop AIDS campaign which, amongst other things, features nude sportspeople doing impressive things with their equipment. This approach to health promotion is far more imaginative than its British equivalent which, if I recall, features a gravestone, an iceberg and nude facsimiles of well known politicians.

Anyway, I thought you might like to try a little quiz based around famous phrases which, here, are spoken by the talking condom lips. Your mission is to identify the originator of the phrase and put your answer in the appropriate comment box.

[ In case you hadn’t guessed – some of them are a tad naughty – so be it on your own head.. er sort of thing. Feel free to email a reply too if you feel so inclined – I’ll publish the best ones. ]

1 postCount(‘811’); 2 postCount(‘802’); 3 postCount(‘803’); 4 postCount(‘804’); 5 postCount(‘805’);
6 postCount(‘806’); 7 postCount(‘807’); 8 postCount(‘808’); 9 postCount(‘809’); 10 postCount(‘810’);

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

All fours

Sunday, May 21st, 2006

The Bignjuicy birthday honours list 2006

Klingon award
Tony Blair

Most holidays award
– for coming back

Best new father award
– for being a proud Dad but not losing sight of his dreams.

Most irritating homosexual on TV
– for being a total twat.

Architectural mayhem medal
Blue Witch
– for her current life.

International housewife and superstar award
Lady von Twatski de Belgique
– for services to international goodwill and newts.

The Diamond Geezer Award
Diamond Geezer
– for Diamond Geezeriness.

Best secret relaunch of something secret
****************** [linkage soon]
– for secretive relaunchings of things.

Order of the Moment of madness
– for a damn fine near miss.

Persistence in the face of absence
My loyal readers
– for patience which is much appreciated.


Sunday, May 21st, 2006

Bignjuicyville is about as far from the sea as it is possible to be in GB.
Consequently, the nearest thing we get to fresh fish is the stunted mutated grey tiddlers that cling to life in the nearby River Juicy, which runs brown for most of the year – being downstream of a toxic industrial estate and over fertilised farmland. Under educated youths pay for permits to fish this conduit of concern, hauling out any remaining tiddlers that haven’t been eaten by the local heron. Local eateries are therefore obliged to source their fresh fish from further afield and there are regular airlifts of antibiotically enhanced salmon, trout and blue whale which end up on the plates of discerning local diners. Local chippies, however, appear to source their supplies from yon babbling sewer, such is the foul odour which emanates when frying tonite. ‘Khalil’s Traditional English Fish n Chippery’, just down the road from here regularly fills the entire neighbourhood with clouds of rancid fat, pungently laced with fishy fragrance and unspeakable kebabiness. You’ll understand, then, why I have not partaken of the fine British Traditional Meal for many years. That and me being mainly a raving vegomatic n all. However, [and I warn all strict vegomatic readers that strong language is coming up], I occasionally do have cravings for fish and have been known to nibble on a crunchy cod or chew on a battered haddock from time to time. There, it’s out. I’m partial to smoked salmon too – but only if it’s nicotine free. For whatever reason – possibly a sense of impending death – I decided that it was time to taste once more the food of the gods and find the finest fish and chips that could be found in time for the celebration of my forthcoming official birthday. [Canons will be let off, honours will be handed out].
So it was that last night I dined within the precincts of a dodgy council estate in EC1. Fish Central, though technically in Islington, is about as far from sun dried polenta and rustic tuscan tonyblair balls as you can get. The patrons ranged from the visibly well heeled [discreet jewellery and expensive smart casual] through groups of geezers in for a pre-pub slap up – to extended families out for their weekly treat. It’s always a good sign when a restaurant is packed and this place has them queueing out the door. Happily, our reservation had been honoured so no waiting for us and we dined in style. Fish perfectly fresh – mine was in crisp batter, my companion opted for grilled – both perfectly cooked and accompanied by lashings of chips, which although right tasty, were not as crisp as I’d have liked em. Of course you can’t have fish and chips without a glass or two of champagne can you? So we bought a bottle of the house stuff which was truly excellent and very good value – I kid you not. The decor is cool pastels; bright clean and modern, the service was brisk and I thoroughly recommend a visit if you don’t fancy paying Jamie Oliver seven quid for beans on toast – his gaff is just down the road. Takeaway also available from the chippy next door.

Monkey business 1
Why was Alan Carr hanging around in the car park at Bignjuicy Central Railway station at 12.40am this morning – looking tired and emotional and who was his young blond companion?

Monkey business 2
Did Humans Mate With Chimps? And are we their offspring?
At last, GWB explained.

999 nein

Wednesday, May 17th, 2006

I was thinking the other day of what it would be like to live in a society where there was no official agency of law and order. We all moan about the police and how we think they are ineffective but imagine if there were simply no police. I think it might be a bit like being back at school when you learnt early on who was nice and who was nasty. Where it was safe to be and where it was not safe to be. Only it would be much worse. People who, because of the existence of law n order, are deterred from expressing their latent criminal tendencies, would have nothing to restrain their impulses. Mild mannered Mr Timpkins down the road might turn out to be a closet fascist vigilante, terrorising the local minority residents as he acts out his power fantasy engendered by a dysfunctional parenting scenario. Sweet natured Cynthia from the corner shop would be seen in a different light as she carried out dawn raids on local washing lines whilst delivering the morning papers to her customers. Ian, the delinquent car-thieving local scumbag might be blown away by Dad-of-Three have-a-go-hero, Mike Normal using the easy-to-obtain sawn off shotgun he bought round the back of Aldi from a granny, entrepreneurially topping up her pension. Postal workers would think nothing of stealing cheques from your mail so you would have to arrange other methods of receiving the extortion money from all the blackmail rackets you were running using your stolen computer. Bosses would lie and cheat their workers out of their earnings and would, most likely, seek to enslave them in some way by holding their children in makeshift prison/workcamps where they would be underfed and made to manufacture inferior quality weapons that would be sold openly in street markets all over the place. Large, vicious cats would be semi domesticated and kept in garden pens by their owners to be unleashed as required in order to defend the homestead. The cats would be fed on dubious food sources as the murder rate soared and the economic value of humans extended to their dead weight.
Imagine a society like that where you never knew what was round the next corner, whether your loved ones would return to you when away, whether you would be driven to extreme violence simply in order to survive.

Talking of Cats
He’s making another album after 28 years.

Tuesday, May 16th, 2006

This is kind of amazing.

Bauhaus on Sunday

Sunday, May 14th, 2006

And so to Tate Modern to see Albers & Moholy Nagy [ For the second time believe it or not ]. I’m going to write about Albers first and will do a bit about Moholy later.

I’d heard of Josef Albers before – being a Bauhaus freak n all. I’d not really appreciated, though, what he’d done within the Bauhaus and what his contribution was to design in general. The latter part of his life was lived in America. He spent 26 years painting variations on Homage to the square Charactised as “vehicles for the presentation of different color climates and various color effects and a demonstration of the way solid colors change according to their positions and surroundings.” The squares series mark Albers’ obsessional investigation of colour perception. It’s fair to say that he was one of the most original thinkers in this field in the twentieth century. The meticulous and methodical Albers developed his work at the Bauhaus from the time he joined in 1920 as a student to 1930 when he was made Assistant Director. His early works in glass are still as fresh and inspiring as they must have been when first made. Photographs don’t do justice to them – seeing the real thing illuminated from behind is great. Leaving Germany in 1933, like most of the Bauhaus Masters, Albers and his wife, Anni, established themselves anew in the US and Josef’s career spanned a further 43 years. The exiled Masters underpinned so much of twentieth century US architecture, art and design. Albers was the first living artist to have a retrospective at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Both Joseph and Anni had a great delight in the ordinary. They got really excited when a child visitor to their house recognised that a ventilator cover was very similar to one of Josef’s square paintings. I was greatly inspired by seeing this work and am determined to learn more about Albers and also about the work of his wife, a master artist in her own right. The Albers foundation seems a good place to start.

Easy – to know
that diamonds – are precious
good – to learn
that rubies – have depth
but more – to see
that pebbles – are miraculous
Josef Albers

Quiet afternoon

Saturday, May 13th, 2006

Scouser Joe has just run down the street shouting hysterically.
Must have been a good afternoon. Looks like the rest of the neighbourhood have heard him as there are people back on the street again. Time for tea.

Saturday, May 13th, 2006

Just heard a bignjuicy scream coming from Scouser Joe’s house round the corner. He sounded excited. I wonder if he’s having some Afternoon Delight? Still nobody around.