TV Guide
A random combination of programming and name-abbreviation which was bound to occur sooner or later:



It was, of course "The Hairy Biker's Cookbook" followed by "Fanny Craddock". But strangely, I'm not thinking of food, right now.

[edit] Ha! I've just realised that, without the "The", Good Food + 1 would be showing "Nigella's Hairy Fanny"!
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 0:18, 4 replies)

People need to learn what 'random' means....
'Random' doesn't mean unexpected. "That pelican randomly flew at me!" No. It didn't.
'Random' isn't a description of you. "I'm just SOOOO random!" No. You're eccentric, spontaneous, or perhaps just stupid. Variations include things like "did you see that episode of family guy? it was so RANDOM".
'Random' isn't a filler word for when something happens. "Then the pile of papers just, like, RANDOMLY fell over." ARGH.
Just the other day I heard a girl recalling a story to her friend, where she walked past another person who was "randomly eating a sandwich". How can you RANDOMLY eat a sandwich??? Did she pick a sandwich at random and start eating it? Or was she ingesting it in some sort of convoluted, 'random' way, that STILL wouldn't be a random event? ffs.

'Random' isn't even a word for a stranger. "Who is that?" "Oh, just some random". ...FUCK OFF.

STOP MISUSING RANDOM. That is all.
(The Oscillating Gibbon is eating curried squid, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:15, 52 replies)

when he was a little boy
We were walking back from a happy evening spent in the pub, myself, my daughter and my son. We'd had a lovely time, eaten from the barbeque, they'd played on the slides and climbing frames with the other kids, the sun was setting, and we got to talking as we walked.
"I know it's been a bit strange, moving to another school, a new house with only a little garden and all that, but you've both held up really well, and I'm proud of you both"
Both littlies went a bit quiet, then my son tucked his hand into mine and squeezed,as he said "It's OK Mum, in fact it could be a lot worse"
"How's that son?" I asked
"We could live in a potato!" he shouted over his shoulder as he scampered off after his big sister.
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Sun 24 Apr 2011, 10:01, 15 replies)

one of the kids i teach is 11 and has downs syndrome
At a recent assembly he got called to the front where the head presented him with a medal he had won in a cycling race.

I was really pleased for him and when I saw him in the corridor later that day I stopped to chat with him.

I asked him what kind of bike he used, whether it was a mountain bike, road bike or bmx.

He stopped looking at me, instead staring over my shoulder into the distance. His smile disappeared and a far away wistful look appeared on his face and he replied with a line that convinced me he is the most awesome human being who ever lived.

"I don't know. I just ride."

Then the smile returned and he waved cheery-o as he trotted off to maths.

Pretty random. Very cool!

Probably doesn't meet the requirements for this weeks answers but I feel justified in not giving a Fuck.
(OTT, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:22, 4 replies)

One time I was eating a pack of Waitrose after-dinner mints...
...and on reaching the bottom, I found a tiny silver card with the words 'You are a cunt' scratched into it.
(Monkey Tennis isn't Spartacus, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 14:13, 9 replies)

Bognor Station
As a train arrived, the tannoy spake thusly:

"British Rail would like to inform passengers that the train arriving on platform one is on fire. You are advised not to join this service".

I love the "advised" -- the final decision is, of course, up to you.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 27 Apr 2011, 15:52, 7 replies)

Not random enough I fear.
I once had a dream where I woke up in bed at 9:00am, got up, rubbed my eyes, got up, rummaged around for some clothes, got dressed, wandered into the bathroom to brush my teeth, then went and sat on the couch in the front room and waited for the clock to roll round to 9:30 so I could get the bus to university.

I dreamt my entire morning routine which, ordinarily, would amount to the most mundane thing to dream about of all time. Except in this dream, I had SIDEBURNS.

Glorious bushy sideburns, stretching right down my face and joining my beard in some sort of orgy of facial hair wonderfulness.

Needless to say, I woke up and discovered I didn't have sideburns.

God, I wish I had sideburns.
( PMGT -Bacon., Tue 26 Apr 2011, 18:29, 9 replies)

Two of my mates, Adam and Ray (names etc)
were both big enthusiasts of Acorn computers back in the 90s. Adam was rather proficient at programming it and managed to create a 'virus'. He wrote the song below, programmed his Acorn to sing it (using a speech synthesiser that makes Stephen Hawking sound like he teaches elocution) and then wrote it into a 'virus' that would copy itself in to two places on the hard-drive and into memory. If you deleted one copy, it would copy the other one to another random place, all the time making sure there was a copy in memory. Cleverly done I thought.

He then sneaked it on to Ray's Acorn so that it would wait a random interval, anywhere between 10 mins to 5 hours, before firing up and singing the song, which couldn't be halted.

To the tune of "The Ash Grove". You'll no doubt recognise the tune as soon as you hear it. www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ay9-8POXH7w

****
If you poison my trumpet
I'll nail you to a doormat
If you insult my teabags
Then I'll sell you a gnu.

If you damage my monkey
I'll throw up on your cornflakes
And if you dress up like Demis Roussos
Then I'll come in your shoe.

If you barbecue my pterodactyl
Or you henwox an axolotl
I'll rip out your epiglotis
As food for my giraffe.

If you rupture my saucepan
I'll spit on your apple crumble
And if you sing a bar in 17/40
Then I'll switch myself off.
****

At which point it would switch off. Not go into a shutdown procedure like Windows does. Switch off, as if someone had kicked the plug out of the wall.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:47, 2 replies)

Random insult
At one of the low points in my life, I worked at Terry's chocolate factory in York, on the night shift.

Working the M1 (production line to fill 'All Gold' boxes) was a nightmare, but after a few weeks we had a night packing after dinner mints. The same round, foil covered, hard choc mints went into Sainsbury's and Waitrose's 'own brand' packages - the packages were different, but not much.

Anyway, the ease of this job and the bonus of the odd mint choc soon paled for me. What could I do to rebel against the Man? Well, at the bottom of the see-through plastic packs was a rectangle of silvered cardboard. So I took one out and wrote "You are a cunt" clearly with my fingernail on the card and put it back before filling with chocs.

So, some poor random stranger would have been insulted by an empty pack of chocs. I'm not proud of this now (yeah, right), but it felt good at the time.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:37, 3 replies)

Kelvingrove Park on a rainy monday morning
About 10 years ago on a particularly rainy monday morning in glasgow at around godknowswhat o'clock as I dragged my sorry bedraggled form from the remains of the very last party of the weekend, on my way home to sleep until the next weekend reared it's head (usually around wednesday lunchtime) I decided to take a detour through Kelvingrove park. As I neared what was known locally at the time as "the green beach" (although I'm sure it has had many nicknames over the years - the natives will know it as the one place which is immune to Glasgow's no drinking/taking recreational drugs in public laws) I came across 4 guys dressed as babies - nappies, bonnets and novelty oversized dummies dragging a bath up the hill. Obviously I initially thought I was feeling the remnants of whatever massive drugs I'd been taking the night before and gave myself a bit of a shake and rubbed my eyes to make sure my eyes didn't decieve me, but no, that's exactly what was happening. I slowed to watch what their intentions were and was glad I did. "Here, big man, ye wantin' a go in oor bath?" went the cry. Having made eye contact I thought it rude just to ignore them and walk on so I just waved and shouted back that it was ok they should go on ahead with their venture, however no was not an answer they were going to be satisfied with and 2 minutes later I found myself sitting in a bath being pushed down a grassy slope by 4 grown men dressed as babies in the pissing rain. Having started to enjoy myself I gave them a hand as they started to lug the tub back up the hill when my girlfriend came around the corner from another party.
If I thought the scene I witnessed was a bit odd imagine the difficulty explaining to my girlfriend what I was doing when she witnessed the same scene, but I was also involved in it.

She still had a go too though.

Great days, great days.
(Figmaus, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 21:13, 1 reply)

Posted this before..but
but it wasn't relevant at the time:

Wes and the Vegas laundrette

Laundry in Vegas is tricky because all the hotels want to charge you $3 to wash a pair of socks and so do all they can to allow laundromats to flourish. Our plan was to visit an outlet mall out of town and on the way drop off our washing. In a hugely seedy neighbourhood after walking around with big neon signs saying 'Lost tourists please rob us' we finally found our laundromat.

The owner was on duty - a big friendly black man called Wes who said he would take care of everything for us for a total of $2.75 and we could come back at six pm to collect. He even took us outside to show us how to get back to the laundrette. Being from Scotland I was instantly suspicious of why he was being so damn nice. I asked for some kind of receipt for the clothes but he didnt have anything but said everything would be ok. I left the shop with my rip-of radar still beeping away loudly. We got a taxi to an outlet mall and all the way there I was kicking myself and running through all the scenarios of how Wes was going to rip us off - steal our clothes, arrange for us to be mugged at 6pm, charge extra when we got back etc etc etc.

Our shopping trip over we had to come up with a plan to ensure our safety when visiting Wes's laundromat now that it was dark. The missus had all her jewellery on, loads of shopping and I was not keen that she came with me to pick up the laundry. I decided to leave her with all her valuables (and mine) at the Stratosphere Casino and walk the half an hour to the laundromat. I set off in the dark, crapping myself but made it to the door, which was locked. 'Oh here we go i thought. But from behind the counter popped Wes and he opened up the shop.
'You're early' he said.
'I always try to be' I replied light-heartedly, hiding my true intention to avoid the mass ranks of muggers he had probably lined up for my return at 6pm.
'You look cold.' said Wes
"I am alright, I'm from Scotland' I said, fulfilling a stereotype.
To my surprise Wes pulled out a little heater plugged it in and said 'Warm yourself up with this while I finish folding your clothes.'

I was humbled. All the time I had him down as a conman but really he was just scraping a living and being a lovely human being. I felt ashamed at the malice I had felt towards him.

'So you're from Scotland?' said Wes as he folded my boxers. 'I visit there often'
'Really?' I sounded surprised because I figured that he wouldnt be able to afford many trans-atlantic trips if he was only charging $2 per wash. ' Where abouts do you visit?'
'Oh all over' he said.
It was with his very next sentence I realised why Wes was being so nice.
'But I tend to only visit during the time of King James'
Wes was so nice because he was certifiably insane. Batshiat insane.

What followed (whilst my jaw continued to descend to the floor) was a tale so intricate and bizarre that I have trouble retelling it but basically Wes is part of a 'bird-tribe' of 3 men called talismen who use timepieces to travel through time and influence religion. They are waiting for a sign from Ugly Betty star (Amerika Ferrera) to re establish the Portugese Black Royal family and bring the true DaVinci Codes to the world. Wes exists on the Belarus-Minerva timeline and his interest in King James is because he edited a lot of stuff out of the bible that confirms his story. The two other Talismen are musicians and Wes is supposed to be learning the bagpipes to blend in. All the secrets to this can be gleaned from the film 'Flight of The Condor' starring Robert Redford where if you look closely it isn't seven people that died but 49. Apparently that is important.
I am not making this up. In fact this is an edited down linear version. Wes was slightly more erratic in his story telling.
He folded our laundry beautifully and showed me to the door. I gave him $5 for his trouble and as I left he told me to watch out for his grandmother who belonged to the 'Femme nikita' tribe and was a trained assasin but he would watch over me when he goes back to Scotland.'

I made the half hour walk back to the casino in about 5 minutes and breathlessly tried to retell the story to the other half. It didnt make sense when I told it either.

Something else that didn't make sense was all the effort to save a bit of cash by going to a launderette was entirely in vain, as the missus spent a fortune on the slots whilst I was away. Cest la vie.

(No apologies for length, girth or early finish)
( BadBadman saw an incorrect comma placement on, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 10:37, 1 reply)

Student protests!
I was out in London the night the student protests kicked off last month (Work thing, not protest related). As my group of drunken associates walked to Chinatown we saw a guy walk across and stand in the middle of the road and stop a car in its tracks. He looked a bit pissed and like he was working out his next destination. The driver did the only sensible thing and hit his horn in a long beeeeeep. The guy in the road turned to face the car and held up one of those stupid horns (Those Voovoozella things), and blew it back at the car and stood waiting for the drivers response. The guy with the horn was louder than the car too. The driver and the horn blower just looked at each other. It was only the horn blowers mate who wandered out of nowhere who broke the stalemate and dragged him off.
(Beaverman Opulence, I has it., Thu 21 Apr 2011, 16:45, 3 replies)

Secret career change persuasion
I found the classic 'office workers umbrella' on the train, you know the kind, smallish black, suitable for a busy chap, I kept it. The next day on the way in to work, I found a brand new Parker pen & pencil set in the street, all encased in leather, no-one around to ask, I kept that too. I found a £50 note outside my house a few days later (I waited around for about 30 minutes in case a little old lady came back looking for it, no one did). To top it all off a few days later I find a briefcase, But of course I did the right thing and handed it in.

I had a feeling someone was telling me to get a job in London and even gave me the fare. I started to think the next day I'd find a bowler hat or tie, but no.
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:27, 1 reply)

Awesome sights #467:
Last week I saw a BIG (6'9" ish) Jamaican rasta dude, dreads down to his arse, shades, the lot, walking hand-in-hand with a little white lad of about 8 or 9.

Suddenly, without prompting, comment or reason, they both started skipping, and danced down the street.

Sometimes I fucking adore London.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 11:54, 5 replies)

Can we stop with the 'clever' self-referential posts?
I'm talking about stuff like this.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 18:53, 1 reply)

random smiles
I remember once having a particularly shit day and a completely random stranger smiled at me as they were walking past. Completely out of the blue, without motive and unexpected, yet it gave me a little lift for the rest of the day.

So ever since I've been trying to do similiar. Even better if done randomly, but it always works best on people who look like they're having a shit time of it. The good thing is the more you do it the better and more fearless you get and it has a pretty good effect on your own mood too. And if they're a chronically ignored homeless person just this little recognition is enough to make them feel a little more human again

never underestimate the power of a completey random stranger smiling at you. Do it next time you're out, I guarantee it will make someones day aswell as your own.

NB. the only caveat to this is don't do it to middle aged men in tight muscle shirts hanging around the local cemetery late evening, unless that's what you're into
( Clay hopes this bit is long enough to promote my websi, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 12:42, 3 replies)

Lovely sunny day this weekend.
As I was walking down the road I was looking in the windows (as many a fellow voyeur would understand... ) The curtains/blinds were all shut against the sun, protecting humans and TV screens from that invasive glare of light.

However, 12 consecutive windowsills each had a cat stretched out, snoozing in the sunshine.

Made my day, that. :)
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 17:46, 10 replies)

I swear this is true
Several years ago, I was in a crappy used bookstore with my husband. He was dawdling around somewhere in the back, taking forever as usual. I was bored and hanging around in the front of the store, waiting to leave. I'm an artist, so I walked over to a display of art books. I randomly pick up one called "An Artist's Guide to Making it in New York City" and open it to the first page. First page, first sentence is a direct quote from ME. I nearly fainted dead on the spot. I leaf through the book, and find that I'm quoted in there several times.

The funny thing is, I have absolutely no recollection of ever being interviewed for this book. I don't remember talking to the author, and even if I did, you'd think he (or someone) would have told me this book existed.

If you want to see it for yourself, here's a link to Amazon--you can read the first page, first sentence (and then stalk me): www.amazon.com/Artists-Guide-Making-York-City/dp/1581151950/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&qid=1303401389&sr=8-11
(WorksInDUMBO, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 17:03, 5 replies)

There's
been a spate of this around our way recently.

There's a set of dining chairs AND the table nailed to a series of telegraph poles - about 15 foot up as well...yet no-one seems to know how it got there.
The really sad thing is, they were in better nick than the ones we use at home.
There's also been [nailed to the poles], fake bacon and eggs, fake vegetables, a fake parrot and real, yet dead, octopus.

Christ only knows what's going on!
(dchurch bah, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 12:44, 10 replies)

A REAL egg!
Yesterday, I blearily trudged the whole ten metres from my house to the corner shop at - what seemed to me - the crack of dawn in order to buy some daily necessities that soon-to-be-Mr-Seventh had neglected to stock up on during the previous day's wallet-wrenching shopping excursion.

The day was bright, which wasn't helping me to feel any more awake and strangely peaceful; a still, calm quiet hovered over the neighbourhood, which I found blissfully soothing. Still mostly asleep, with unbrushed hair,yesterday's clothes and (shame of shame) comfy blue Crocs, I nodded a sleepy greeting at the shop's proprietor and went about gathering the milk, cheese, potatoes and - most importantly - toilet paper, not forgetting the chocolate hobnobs, of course. I was the only customer, soft pop-rock was playing quietly in the background and I experienced a moment of perfect peace and tranquillity, getting my odds and ends of groceries on this lovely day.

Piling my armful of chosen goods on the counter (and sneaking in a cheeky Malteaster bunny as an impulse-buy - damn them for their supertasty tastiness...), I rummaged in my pocket for that loose tenner whilst idly watching the LED total add up my bill. The door opened and a sunnily-dressed woman and an equally summery eight-ish year old girl entered the shop.

I was just handing over the cash, feeling pleased that I'd miraculously managed to buy exactly £9.99 worth of assorted oddments when the child bounced up to me and poked me very hard in the ribs.

Startled, I opened my mouth to politely protest but before I could speak she beamed brightly at me and declared loudly and clearly "I've got a REAL egg!" Illustrating her claim by enthusiastically waving a tiny white egg in my face, she poked me again and bounced a little on her heels, apparently bursting with joy and pride in her possession.

The shopkeeper's face glazed over into utter bafflement and I feel proud in being able to come out with a mumbled "oh? that's very nice, where did you get that from?" but the child was already bouncing away before I'd finished my sentence. I stared after her and she breezily called over her shoulder "It's a PIGEON EGG! I'm going to be a pigeon mummy!" before disappearing round the corner.

Speechless, I paid up and trudged back out with my shopping, still completely clueless why a small child had chosen ME to assault with poking and egg-news.



TL;DR: Shopping at stupid o'clock in the morning whilst half asleep when a child violently pokes me in the ribs, waves small white object in my face and declares "I've got a REAL egg!!" No further explanation was provided.
( Seventh is somewhat subdued, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 15:54, Reply)

No Entry
Arriving at work one morning, I saw something had been installed at the train station overnight:



I went through it, on principle.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 0:06, 4 replies)

Frank
In my hometown, there's a guy called Frank. He wanders around the town, always striding purposefully, occasionally chatting to himself.

He used to drink in the pub where I worked, he's a really nice bloke (and has the strongest handshake I've ever experienced) but due to the abovementioned conversations with himself and the occasionally random (or are they?) things that he said, he's generally known to all as Mad Frank - not behind his back either, it's all good-natured.

My dad bumped into him in town a while back, and said hello.

"Are you still mad?" said my dad

"About what?" replied Frank
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 14:05, 1 reply)

With the recent BBQ summer
heatwave in blighty I ended up outside reading a book. Sat under the shade of a tree I was reading away when suddenly I noticed a little kid had wandered over and was now stood in front of me. I looked up, she smiled and said "have a nice day", handed me a daisy and then toodled off back to her parents.
(Sadarse works like Mist condensing mud flaps, Wed 27 Apr 2011, 18:35, Reply)

My favorite bit of graffiti ever
On a temporary road sign at the top of Brixton Road about 5 years ago. Sign said "Pedestrians Look Both Ways"

Graffiti underneath said "and drivers take it up the arse".
(cymrococh, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 19:12, 1 reply)

Page 400. GAG GAG what the hell?!
This is why laughing with your eyes shut is bad move. It was just like swallowing a fly; the blasted little devil-cube hardly touched the sides.

In the following days you will discover that - while you are no Gillian McKeith poo-hound - you are pretty sure the die never left the cavernous casino that is your arse. Its immovably lodged somewhere in your innards.

You will forever wonder if you've rolled a six...
(IChewCandlewax, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 16:42, 3 replies)

Lynchian ducks
A few years ago I opened my front door and found two ducks standing there waiting outside. We looked at each other for a few seconds before the male duck started quacking quietly, as if he was trying to tell me something. I closed the door behind me and edged around them. All the while they kept their eyes on me.
The whole episode had a David Lynch bad-dream movie feeling about it.
(mudskipper, Sun 24 Apr 2011, 2:14, 4 replies)

Where I live, Random is the norm
Its a small place but attracts more than its fair share of nutters due to its 'spiritual' location.
Events that would seem random anywhere else just get nonchalantly shrugged at when you've lived here long enough .
A man in womens clothing having a full on fist fight with a white robed and turbaned devotee of Sai Baba over the attentions of a middle aged 'crystal' healer , um ok.
The straggly bearded guy who walks up just to tell you, 'you smell of sex, do you want to go to a hotel?'
No, there arent any hotels here, and he just shrugs and walks off.
The day the High St had a flash flood and someone surfed it.
My bloody camera ran out of charge and I will eternally kick myself for not capturing that.
The man who walks around wearing nothing but a wig, splotchy fake tan and a loin cloth.
The night someone with aspirations of being Spiderman somehow managed to crawl up the outside of my building, to pop his head over my 2nd floor windowsill just to say hello as my light was on and my window was open at 2am.
I laughed, we had a random conversation, he thanked me and left, I got on with what i was doing.
The man who stopped me in the street to hand me a broken china cup full of bits of plant material that would 'make me rich' if I burnt it.
The group of buddhist monks that knock on my door to tell me that for small donation to their temple they will bless my house.
The man who handed me a large pink plastic toy mobile phone and said someone wanted to speak to me.
I said 'sorry I'm out of the office' and he then related that into the phone.
The notice stuck to the lamp post at the end of my street asking if anyone had found a post office issue large red rubber band, a phone number was included .
I really had to sit on my hands not to ring just for the fun of it.


You get the idea
Where i live, random is the norm
I bloody love where i live
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 1:49, 15 replies)

at my local park

too late.
( madrabbit is fully prepared, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 1:10, 2 replies)

Shopping with the missus in morRISons the other week
and during another epic adventure of "Bored husband dragged along while the Wife Examines EVERY ITEM on sale" we get to the pet food aisle. We got us a cat who unfortunately has to eat, so while the missus was examining all the flavours of food available (it's a cat, give it any old food not a fecking menu and wine list ffs) I happen to notice another couple in the aisle in pretty much the same predicament. There was the husband standing there bored leaning on the trolley while who I'm assuming was his wife was standing there reading rather intently the full nutritional values of a box of cat biscuits (again I don't hear about many cats trying to cut out e-numbers from their diet ffs).

After about a full minute of me waiting, and this couple getting on with it the woman puts the biscuits down and carries on walking, while the husband says "Dunno why you were looking at them, not as if we got a cat" and they wonder off to a different aisle. My brain could not deal with this, what in the living fuck is so interesting about cat biscuits???? Every aisle must be a fucking adventure for those two.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 13:52, 3 replies)

Picture the scene
A balmy spring morning in the early 1990s, and a young Costas is sitting in an A-Level Physics lesson. Our teacher is explaining the laws of thermodynamics, heat engines and so forth. Suddenly, he realises that he's left an essential piece of equipment in the storeroom, and so instructs the class to read the next page of the textbook while he dashes down the corridor to fetch it.

We sit reading intently as his footsteps fade into the distance and the rooms falls silent.

Ten seconds later, we hear more footsteps. At the door, a gaggle of seven or eight Japanese businessmen appear. They stand in the doorway, chattering away, have a quick glance around the classroom, take a few photos, then shuffle off.

Thirty seconds later, the teacher returns with his equipment.

We never spoke of our visitors.
(costas, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 23:44, 2 replies)