I find your lack of faith disturbing

I know this has been Photoshopped, but it’s eerily good.

This conversation could only happen at four o’clock on a Tuesday

Me: Ooh, look. Email. “I found an exclusive and fun way to meet new people online: Twoo.com.” Presumably if you mention that on a Twitter account, you’ll tweet twoo.

[chorus of groans]

Dave: Oh, James, that was an ‘owler.

Me: I know. I wonder… [Googles] Yep, it’s been done. A lot, by the looks of things.

Rose: Not surprising, really.

Me: It’s one of those things where you come up with a joke that’s quite good and realise that you can’t have been the first to think of it. Is there a word for that? There should be a word for that.

Rose: Eddie Izzard says when he’s coming up with new material he sings as badly as he can to make sure he’s not plagiarising anyone.

Me: My rule is I’ll Google before claiming ownership. I don’t care if anyone else has said it first. If it’s not on the internet, it doesn’t count.

Rose: [splutters into coffee]

Me: Have I scared you by being so outrageous?

Rose: No, not really, it’s just you’ve made me laugh for the first time in three years.

One does not simply walk into Mordor

One of the blogs that I follow recently had a post on the difference between science fiction and fantasy. Lively discussion followed.

However, my main reason for mentioning it here is this image, which she got from Google and which I rather like…

Superstitious, cowardly lot

Sunday, February 12th 2012

– What does Batman’s mum say to him when it’s dinnertime?
– Nothing. Batman doesn’t have a mum. THAT’S WHY HE’S BATMAN.

All are pun-ished (iii)

Monday, February 6th 2012

Sarah: I have meetings from eleven until twelve-thirty tomorrow, and then from three until four. Do you want to do my one-to-one at tennish?

Me [Sean Connery]: Tennish sounds great, Sarah, but I haven’t got a racket.

Still funny. Still funny.

“We are all in the gutter, but some – no, wait, that’s it.”

Announcing the Daily Mail comments app. You need never be stuck for a self-righteous double standard or dreary cliche again. (This has, I am sure, been done before, and probably to a much higher standard, but given my limited abilities with Photoshop – well, Fireworks – I am quite pleased with it.)

Feel free to re-blog or pass on however you like. All comments and suggestions for future versions welcome.

“I had a birthday once. I was forty-four.”

Friday, February 3rd 2012

Friday evening in a local Tesco. The American student sharing the aisle with me wants Weetabix. He appears to be going out with Vicky Pollard’s marginally more responsible older sister, who thinks Weetabix is “disgusting, innit”. Then she swoops over to a nearby shelf and yells “Pop Tarts! We are so gettin’ them. They are the shit.”

Personally, I’d have abandoned the definite article.

All are pun-ished (ii)

Wednesday, February 1st 2012

In the office….

Me: Oh look. It says here that they think male spiders bite off their own genitals in order to fertilise the female spiders.

Paul: Lovely.

Rose: I think I knew that. I know it’s crazy that I knew that.

Me: No, it’s not crazy. It’s quite normal by your standards. It’s just the sort of thing I would expect you to know. Anyway, it’s pretty…well…

Dave: Oh, you know. Anything goes on the web these days.

Me: <thwap>

Stuff I probably should have tweeted, #8

More Facebook updates, from the third quarter of 2011…

14th July 2011 – According to the Sony TV guide, this evening’s Torchwood “contains some upsetting scenes”. Presumably that’s any scene in which Eve Myles is required to act.

6th October 2011 – Have just been stung. On my arse. By a wasp. That was hiding inside a pair of pants in the underwear drawer. Sitting down is mildly painful.

12th October 2011 – Right. Have packed away the bunsen burner, washed out the test tubes and scrubbed the petri dishes, and Emily has put the microscopes and conical flasks back in the wardrobe. It’s been a productive evening, but when I told her I wanted to experiment in the bedroom this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

16th October 2011 – Astronaut #1: Bother. I can’t seem to open this milk.
Astronaut #2: In space, no one can. Here, use cream.

1st November 2011 – You ever notice how you never see Billy Connolly and Frank Zappa together?

16th November 2011 – Nearly eight years we’ve lived in this neighbourhood. Can someone please tell me how I got lost coming home from work?

22nd November 2011 – ‘The Organist Entertains’. There’s a misnomer if ever I heard one. 

2nd December 2011 – So PMSL is supposed to mean ‘Pissing myself laughing’, right? Except the last time I looked, ‘myself’ is only one word. So it should really be PML. Or you could change it to ‘Pissing my trousers, which is PMT. Or even ‘Pissing my skirt’, which is PMS.

23rd December 2011 – Slipped in a wet patch outside the car on my way back from the supermarket, landing on my knees. It’s funny: this year alone we’ve had the Arab spring, numerous problems in the EU and now this situation in North Korea, but I don’t think any political analyst could have foreseen the fall of Turkey.

Fings ain’t what they used to be

Wednesday, December 28th 2011

Spent the evening in front of the TV, eating chilli flavoured nuts and playing Trauma Center, extracting bullets, stitching incisions and cauterising wounds.

Me: You know, I reckon I could be a surgeon.

Emily: [splutters into beer glass]

Me: What?!?

Emily: It’s a shame, though. Kids used to operate on their mates out in the garage. These days they just do it on the Wii and think that’s the same thing.

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