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‘The only advice anybody can give is, if you wanna be a writer, keep writing. And read all you can, read everything” – Stan Lee (December 28, 1922 – November 12, 2018).
One story Stan Lee read and enjoyed was Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. The artist and storyteller who created Spider-Man, Iron Man and the X-Men reads from the book. It’s terrific. Thank you for all the stories, Stan Lee. “Excelsior!”
Spotter: Stan Lee reads Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven – Open Culture
The death of bingo halls
If bingo were a sport, it would be the 6th most popular sport in the country. Over 1.9 million people regularly play bingo each month in this country compared to 1.7 million who play tennis.
Online bingo is the main driver in popularity for bingo, with weekly bingo hall figures dropping by more than 14% in the past year alone. The death of the bingo hall, while sad, is completely and entirely expected – given the comfort and convenience with which they can play their favourite game, and the high-quality, engaging nature of the graphics you can get for free online. That’s why you can’t blame many players heading to sites such as Wink Bingo which are infinitely more appealing than their local bingo hall.
But bingo halls leave behind a rather amusing legacy. Let’s look back at some of the funniest bingo stories from the annals of time.
Bingo traditionally brings out the worst in people, particularly those of an older generation who may on the outside seem genteel, calm and placid. When a regular winner calls ‘bingo!’ there are whispered insults from around the room, questioning what sort of Faustian pact the winner must have struck to keep garnering such bingo success.
Sometimes bingo players even throw their cards at each other, assault one another with purses, dabbers and walking sticks. However on occasion it gets serious, especially when the new generation of players meet the old.
In 2016 a full scale brawl broke out at a bingo hall in Derby when a group of millennials fell afoul of the elderly regulars. According to onlookers an elderly regular was heard describing the youngsters as ‘lacking in respect’.
The millennials made so much noise during the bingo that people were complaining they couldn’t hear the balls being called. One patron decided enough was enough and hurled her handbag in her enemies’ direction, which sparked the brawl.
A crowd of millennials pounced on their aged counterparts and punches were thrown with police arriving on the scene in a matter of minutes to apprehend the offenders. Wendy Lee, 50, from Chaddesden, said she had “never seen anything like it” in her 20 years of playing bingo.
Another witness, Jim Hamer, 66, from Darley said, “It was just a few stuffy old sorts getting their knickers in a twist.”
So forget Connor McGregor’s next fight, head down to your local bingo hall to see some of the most frantic fighting action in the world.
Bingo rhyming slang
In Victorian times many Londoners communicated by Cockney rhyming-slang, using phrases such as:
This rhyming slang made its way into bingo halls all around the country just after the end of the Second World War. Here is a mixture of classic, bizarre and downright strange bingo calls.
5 and 7, Heinz Varieties – Baked Beans were traditionally made with 57 unique ingredients, hence this bean style reference.
1 and 0, Theresa’s Den – UK Prime Minister Theresa May lives at number 10 Downing Street, otherwise known as her den.
3 and 0, dirty Gertie – This one definitely shows the main demographic of bingo halls, with it being a reference to a Second World War song of the same name about a dirty woman called Gertrude.
Number 9, Doctor’s orders – Another war reference, signifying the ‘number 9 pill’ that was given to troops with a non-specific illness. The pill was a laxative and was intended to ‘clear out’ the troops.
8 and 8, two fat ladies – This refers to the shape of the numbers, with an 8 looking like a slightly rotund woman.
5 and 6, was she worth it? – Another incredibly dated reference, this time to the price of a marriage license in the 1950’s, 5 shillings and sixpence. Normally women around the country shout back, “every penny” when the caller reads out 56.
There’s no more classic a sight than a man in a trench coat walking around a bingo hall, opening up his coat to reveal a plethora of stolen goods, all available for a pound. Instead of going down to the local pub – where the police would often be – thieves chose the bingo hall instead to flog their hauls.
As a child there was a time when I thought that the bingo was actually a butchers because of all the meat my Grandma brought back with her. There’d also be Nicky trainers, Roy Ban sunglasses and Leroy’s jeans circulating around.
Ashley Graham Holland from Manchester took it way too far in 2017 when he stole £15,000 worth of goods from his employer John Lewis and flogged his ill-gotten gains on eBay and in his local bingo hall. Fortunately a Good Samaritan spotted him selling electronic goods one day and tipped off police.
Peter Kay satirises the bingo hall
Before Peter Kay made it big with his hilarious comedy Phoenix Nights, he had to prove to TV producers that he had what it took to be a writer, director and actor. The project that highlighted his talents was That Peter Kay Thing, a six-part series that featured completely individual fly on the wall style mockumentaries.
The second episode in that series was Eyes Down which centred on the goings on of Bolton’s premier bingo establishment – Apollo Bingo!
Eyes Down was loosely based on Kay’s own experiences of working in a bingo hall when he was a teenager and the popularity of the episode was hugely detrimental to the reputation of bingo. Here’s what Kay pokes fun at:
The callers: In Eyes Down Peter Kay plays (among others) the role of Scouse bingo caller Tom, who sees himself as somewhat of a celebrity. His interviews to camera are centred on his famous connections and he tells stories to big himself up, like when he had to turn down an appearance from Shirley Bassey because she wasn’t prepared to get changed in a disabled bathroom. Tom also indulges in the ridiculously crass jokes that epitomise small town bingo callers.
The intensity: In the opening scenes Peter Kay’s main protagonist is telling the camera about why he hates his job working at the bingo hall. He says it’s the worst job he’s had, and that’s doubly bad considering he once worked in a Harvester. One of the reasons he hates the job is because of the intensity that the players play with. He regales us with a story about a man who called for help for his wife, she was having a stroke but he couldn’t help as he had to carry on filling out her card. That might sound a bit far-fetched, but it’s undoubtedly happened at a bingo hall in the UK at some point, which is why it’s funny.
The bingo hall is dead. Yes, it remains the unique haunt of an elderly generation that still enjoy Second World War references from their bingo caller, but as that generation slowly shuffle off this mortal coil, the new home for bingo is online.
In all seriousness, if you were interested in playing bingo now you’d just download an app and play from the comfort of your own home. You can also play on mobile, meaning you can have a flutter while you’re on the move. No dabbers needed, no annoying bingo callers, no pain in the backside competitors – just bingo and chill.
At Ohio’s Akron Fright Fest, an “extreme haunted houses”, visitors sign a disclaimer stating they realise the place features not actual ghouls and demons, but actors who might touch them. According to reports, the actors might also shove the paying punters to the ground and simulate rape. Hollywood should sue Akron Fright Fest for allegedly nicking its intellectual property.
Ryan Carr claims he was shoved over and assaulted. The Huffington Post reports Carr’s girlfriend, Sarah Lelonek, tried to stop it:
“She comes over and yells, ‘Stop! What are you doing? That’s my boyfriend,’” Carr recalled Lelonek saying. He then described the masked person’s response: “‘Not anymore, he’s mine now. I’m going to rape him,’ and then he started thrusting against me.”
The Huffington Post also hears claims that a 16-year-old boy was tossed onto a mattress and subjected to a mock rape, during which the actor told him to “squeal like a pig”. A spokesman for the venue says he’s “shocked” and “appalled”. The staffers “who worked in the area where the incident allegedly occurred have been suspended”. “Obviously, rape is a horrible act,” he said. “Even a mock rape scene has no place as part of any entertainment.”
Unless it’s on the nightly news, of course…
In 1955, Princess Margaret shared with the world her morning routine. The Queen’s chain-smoking sister’s regimented daily habits, with her “punishing schedule of drinking and smoking”, were revealed in Ma’am Darling by the satirist Craig Brown. “For a while,” writes Brown, Princess Margaret “glued matchboxes to tumblers so that she could strike matches while drinking, but it was a craze that never caught on.’ But worse than her fabled rudeness – an “unstoppable urge to say the first thing that came into her head, just so long as it was sufficiently unpleasant” – and vapid weltschmerz of her rank in life, were the sycophants. As Brown notes:
Receiving a prize from the young Princess Margaret in 1958, the 52-year-old John Betjeman was so overwhelmed by her curvaceous presence that tears came into his eyes, a reaction duly noted by his waspish friend, Maurice Bowra, the chairman of the judges, who lampooned it in a parodic verse:
“Green with lust and sick with shyness
Let me lick your lacquered toes.
Gosh, O gosh, your Royal Highness
Put your finger up my nose …”
Mingling with the obsequious is wonderful, but the morning’s were peak princess:
Princess Margaret’s morning routine c 1955. Yassgirl. pic.twitter.com/YbCAvhtfMC
— Gareth Roberts MA (Failed) (@OldRoberts953) October 20, 2017
They really are not like the rest of us. As JG Ballard noted in Princess Margaret’s Facelift: “Somewhere in this paradoxical space our imaginations are free to range, and we find ourselves experimenting like impresarios with all the possibilities that these magnified figures seem to offer us.” As Mags would say through a tight mouth, her sarcastic eyes a small sign of life amongst the panto Munsters, “Such fun!”
Jack Brooksbank has ordered the drinks for his wedding to Princess Eugenie but – dang! – he’s left us with the bill. Get a load of the press release and the official drinks:
Jack Brooksbank’s tequila company has issued a press release seeking coverage of the fact that it’s going to be served at today’s Royal Wedding. With very dull quotes from Jack. pic.twitter.com/JsGIPYDxQ9
— Guy Adams (@guyadams) October 12, 2018
Ladydees and gentallmen, please raise you glasses and charge your official branded Cosa-minga cocktails to the British public. Huzzah!
Good on twitter for making an amusing story more suggestive. During Brighton’s home win over West Ham in the Premier League, the Sun tweets: “Brighton’s win over West Ham interrupted by ref picking up sex toy.” 30,000 people look on as the the old “w**ker in the back” blows his whistle to signal a break in play fore hailing a taxi to the local ‘marital aides shop’, or maybe picked something up online?
Brighton’s win over West Ham interrupted by ref picking up sex toy https://t.co/ZZFEcM1cRc
— The Sun (@TheSun) October 6, 2018
The story is less bizarre, as ref Kevin Friend picked up a neat, pink set of plastic cock and balls lobbed on to the pitch by a fan in the throes of ecstasy.
They do get so very excited:
The art of Cold War Steve is to feature in an exhibition at The Social, London. Called A Brief History of the World (1953 – 2018), the show’s running thread is the presence of British actor Steve McFadden, famed for playing tough nut Phil Mitchell on the BBBC dystopian soap opera, EastEnders. There’s fun to be had in spotting famous faces from the world stage and British telly. Personal favourites are poleaxed TalkSport DJ Alan Brazil and the late Cilla Black offering a quizzical look to us from the montage – a look that says ‘Who invited you?’ and ‘What the bloody hell am I doing here?’
Christopher Spencer, the talent behind @ColdWarSteve explains it simply: ” The more incongruous they were, the funnier.” And, boy, are they funny:
WITH Stevie Gerrard looking like he’s off to play football in the United States of America, most likely to live in the sunny climate of Los Angeles to play for David Beckham’s old lot at the Galaxy, it is worth remembering just how weird it’ll be, seeing Gerrard in a kit that isn’t England or Liverpool’s.
And speaking of kits, America has had some of the most dismal jerseys imaginable. With everyone being fans of retro kits these days, it is nice to imagine the Anfield legend playing in some of these abominations.
Here’s some of the most stomach turning kits in American soccer’s history.
Kansas City Wizards
The Wizards’ kit is a funny one because, even though it is clearly an absolute howler of a kit, there’s something that is borderline nice about it. Obviously, you have to have an eye for all things ’90s, but those rainbow sleeves are as pleasing as they are vomit-inducing.
Perhaps the worst/best kit in football’s long history, the Caribous turned out in a beige number which had delightful tassles on the chest. They didn’t exactly light up the North American Soccer League. They played for one season and lost 22 of their 30 games.
When America was awarded the FIFA World Cup in 1994, they didn’t play in that lovely all-white we see them in now. The home kit was red and white stripes, like the stripes of the star spangled banner. The away kit completed the flag with a pretty awful blue thing covered in stars.
San Jose Clash
The San Jose Clash clearly took the ‘clashing’ element of their name and applied it to this horror show. A lovely minty teal with urine yellow and ketchup red. Nike’s design room clearly knocked this up at 5 to 5 on a Friday when they all wanted to get down the pub.
Even though this lovely photo of Trevor Francis doesn’t really do it justice, the Detroit Express kit was a particularly horrible shade of orange, that was only found in the 1970s. Admiral, the kit makers, were known for their bold designs, so in a way, there’s a certain charm to it,
New England Tea Men
To really ram home the name of the New England Tea Men, Umbro thought it might be a fun idea to stick a gigantic letter ‘T’ on all the kits. The awkward design was only matched by the awkward perms as displayed by some of the players.
San Diego Sockers
While not the most disgusting kit in memory, you have to include the mighty San Diego Sockers because, when the players ran across the pitch, if the material folded, it looked like they were called the ‘Suckers’.
Tampa Bay Mutiny
The kit was a disaster and so too, was the Tampa Bay Mutiny franchise. No surprise really as what player would want to run out in this garish number? Fans weren’t likely to be too keen on it either.
Invest in cannabis? BNN Bloomberg says Coca Cola is looking at working with Canadian marijuana producer Aurora Cannabis to create drinks laced with marijuana. “Along with many others in the beverage industry, we are closely watching the growth of non-psychoactive cannabidiol as an ingredient in functional wellness beverages around the world,” said Coca-Cola in a statement. Unlike the cocaine Coca Cola used to put into its products, cannabidiol contains no psychoactive effect. But it can relieve pain.
It follows news that Constellation Brands (US-based producer of Corona beer and a raft of spirits and wines brands) is pumping lots of cash into Canada cannabis producer Canopy Growth.
Why Canada? In June this year, the Canadian government pretty much legalised the use of recreational cannabis. Weed should go legal in Canada on October 17, 2018. You’ve got to feel for Mexico, which should fully legalise the drug exported illegally into the US via cartels. The market is there for the taking. And the money is huge.
Yesterday, shares in Canadian marijuana cultivator, distributor and producer Tilray – the first weed company to IPO in the US – reached an intraday high of $300, closing up 38.1 per cent on the day. The surge was based on news that America’s drugs regulator would allow loss-making Tilray to export a cannabis-based medicine to the US. Tilray shares have soared by – get this – 1,288 per cent since the company floating on the Nasdaq stock exchange two months ago. At one point Tilray was a bigger stock than 59 percent of S&P 500. Not too shabby for what is essentially a farming company – even if it does look absurdly overpriced and highly volatile.
But here’s the thing: no-one can be certain what form a legal market in marijuana will take once prohibition ends. Why would a consumer pay a big corporate farmer for their hit when they grow it themselves? Weed isn’t like moonshine – you really can grow a decent crop in your airing cupboard. And if the market for products gets huge and varied – cheap supermarket own-brand weed drinks? – won’t the price for weed fall? Marijuana is just commodity that grows in the ground.
Americans love miniature horses. Southwest Airlines allows them onboard commercial flights as emotional support animals. Pigs, ferrets, spiders, peacocks and hedgehogs are on the no-fly list. But L’il Sebastian made the cut. Alligators did not – which is good because gators and miniature horses don’t mix, not unless the reptile is hungry. To Texas, then, where an 11ft alligator devoured a little horse owned by Judy Cochran, 73, mayor of the rural town of Livingston. She caught the killer and shot it dead.
For 20 days a year alligator hunting is permitted on public land in Livingstone and greater Polk County. The only rule is that alligators must be caught first before they can be killed. Ms Cochran’s son-in-law, Scott Hughes, tempted the horse-eating gator with a dead raccoon he found by a roadside and “seasoned”. The bait was laced with a large hook and tied to a line over a lake. When the alligator took the meal, Cochran despatched it with a single shot from her Winchester .22 Magnum.
“One shot in the head, and he went under,” boasts Mrs Cochran, who plans to eat the gator meat and make some gator-skin boots. “Typically the gators don’t bother us, but we’ve been looking for this one. We think that this is the gator that ate one of our miniature horses several years ago.”
You’ve got feel sorry for the gator – if people bought normal sized horses, he’d have had no need for that racoon pudding.
What’s it like to have sex with Donald Trump? Until Melania goes full Princess Diana and reveals all, we can roll over and ask Stormy Daniels (aka Stephanie Clifford) about intercourse with The Don. “It may have ben the least impressive sex I’ve ever had,” is the lead quote on the Mirror’s front page. So there’s Trump in his ‘I’m Number 1 why Try Harder’ T-shirt possibly expecting new adventures with a professional shagger. Reading Stormy damn Trump brings to mind the tennis pro playing with the happy amateur. The pro knocks the ball over the net with spin, power and guile; the amateur hits a sublime return, his game improved immeasurably by the skill of his partner . I once played head tennis with a top footballer. With an equally hapless mate, I could manage 6 or seven headers. But with talent we got to 20, 30, 40… So, Donald Trump, what’s it like to have sex with a pro?
On page 7, we learn that Trump’s penis is “smaller than average” but not “freakishly small”. “He knows he has an unusual penis,” says Stormy T-Cup. “It has a huge mushroom head like a toadstool.” did little Mis Muffet sit on the engorged tuffet? “I lay there,” she says enticingly, “annoyed I was getting fucked by a guy with yeti pubes and a dick like the mushroom character in Mario Kart.” so much for the fantasy porn star level sex. Stick with the love doll, smut enthusiasts. You won’t get judged.
On page 10, Stormy’s lie-there-and-tell becomes “Donald stump”. In the Sun, we learn that Stormy’s tribute to gaming forms part of her book, Full Disclosure. Donald isn’t a “fun guy” in bed, the paper puns. We’re reminded there and in the Express that Trump denies the affair. She claims to have been paid “hush money”. And Trump reimbursed his then lawyer, Michael Cohen, for the money she received, $130,000. Yep. That’s what it allegedly costs to shag an angry woman who thinks you’re an inadequate loser. There’s a book in it – but not a token entitling the bearer to a discount on marriage guidance…
Shocking to learn that the middle-classes take more drink and drugs than the poor. The Mail calls the report by the Social Metric Commission a “landmark” finding. Having discovered that people with more money and leisure time use more mind-altering substances than those with less money, we wonder what else the Mail has revealed?
In 2016, the Mail told readers: “Middle-class drinkers can get away with drinking MORE because their otherwise healthy lifestyles make up for it.” Adding: “Wealthier drinkers are less likely to smoke, be overweight and have a poor diet – traits more associated with the lower-income demographic.” Today Ian Duncan Smith, the Tory MP, says: “Part of impoverished adults drinking less is that they do not have the cash to spend on it.” The other part being, presumably, that huge taxes on drink affect the poor more than the wealthy. He doesn’t mention that. He also doesn’t mention why politicians of all stripes want to clamp down on cheap booze with minimum pricing (see: sin tax for people seen as too poor, too thick and too dependent to know what’s best for ’em). But he does say: “This is not in the report but my own experience is that where people are drinking or taking drugs in poverty, it is at a very serious addictive levels. For the middle-classes, they are holding down a job and doing what’s expected of them.” Which is to say: paying more taxes.
But the overriding message is that drinking in excess of the Government’s stated limits does you no harm at all. Indeed, in 2007, an insider said that the recommended weekly limit of 21 units of alcohol for men and 14 for women decreed by the Royal College of Physicians in 1987 was a guess. Former panel member Richard Smith, a former editor of the British Medical Journal, revealed to the Times: “So those limits were really plucked out of the air. They weren’t really based on any firm evidence at all. It was a sort of intelligent guess by a committee.”
The Mail‘s readerships is very much middle-class. But having told the middle-classes that drinking more makes no impact on their health, the Mail also says that it is a huge problem for the kind of so-and-sos who say ‘wine ‘o’clock’:
The talk is of “problem” drinking. The middle-class “culture of drinking at home is driving the problem”. And you can narrow it down still further to educated women:
It’s hard to work out what the point of all this bilge is. Perhaps it’s just a prelude to tax rises, moves to hike the price of booze for our own good – even if it it’s not doing the biggest payers any harm.
“I’ve found the worst thing in the world,” tweets Alistair Coleman. “It’s a Costa coffee machine that plays coffee shop noises while it makes your drink, so you can pretend you’re not all alone at the 3rd floor coffee machine… There’s no fanfare at the end. The music and sound effects just stop abruptly, and you are alone with your paper cup coffee.”
Presenting the Marlow coffee machine, with noises which, according to Costa, “recreate the atmosphere of one of our lively high-street coffee shops”:
I’ve found the worst thing in the world – a Costa coffee machine that plays coffee shop noises while it makes your drink, so you can pretend you’re not all alone at the 3rd floor coffee machine. pic.twitter.com/t94JrTLlLN
— Alistair Coleman (@alistaircoleman) August 27, 2018
What noises made the cut was something most likely picked by Atomhawk, the company hired to make the vending machines. Do you go with the clutter of knives and spoons, the gurgle and grind, or include a choice bit of gossip from parents grabbing a cup of coffee and spite on the school run? According to the Atomhawk website, it’s created “a next-generation self-service coffee experience”.
Costa approached Atomhawk to help define the technology, customer experience and branding for this unique coffee machine, as well as to design the UI and UX for the machine’s 28″ capacitive touchscreen; delivering an intuitive interface and a catalogue of dynamic branding animations that attract users to the machine from afar.
The machine also contains a sophisticated sound system and facial recognition technology powered by Intel’s AIM Suite…
Atomhawk has a wealth of experience developing UI for games on all platforms, and that experience was brought to bear on a new audience with the CEM-200.
You want more? You used to just be able to see your face reflected in the kettle. Now you can see the future. This is intelligent coffee – and it’s not a little bit creepy:
Atomhawk went to Costa’s Flagship store in Kensington to film footage for the ‘attract mode’ video that plays whenever the machine senses a user is not present.
This dreamlike sequence mixes diverse themes; Costa’s Italian heritage, gourmet coffee, the true café experience and more, into a video that draws users to the machine.
Is that what you dream about?
You can buy a Cindy Sherman (born 1954) a phone-shaped PVC inflatable for the poor and ocean. The li-lo features an image called Oops!. It came about when Sherman, an avid swimmer, was playing around with some apps. She says:
“I took this photo to send to someone who knitted the hat for me (Helene Winer of Metro Pictures gallery, actually). But, I also wanted to play around with some apps that I’d just started using and accidentally pressed a button that added some old setting onto this image. I thought it was a nice accident so I kept it.”
When Liverpool players aren’t shaving their chests and rubbing Nivea into the stubble, expect to see them sliding on pairs of Levi’s jeans. Levi’s are Liverpool’s “official denim partner”. It’s a big deal for mankind. Be in no doubt. The club says Liverpool FC and Levi’s are “two organisations dedicated to making a difference around the globe”.
Cynics might wonder if playing football in jeans is the way forward? The current fashion is for footballers to pull their sock up high like stockings over their knees and tether them possibly with garter belts under the hem of their big skort-style shorts. It’s a small step to wearing trousers, or A-line skirts. But this is about “giving back to fans through football, lifestyle and music”, it says hear. Fans no longer care about winning cups and having a laugh at the match; they come to Anfield for tips on skin care, yoghurt and if carrot-cut denim can lead to deep vein thrombosis in quieter matches.
The plan is for the Levi’s LFC “capsule collection”. We look to it with excitement, as must too rival clubs keen to link their brand with fabrics. Arsenal velvet perhaps, Spurs chiffon or Manchester City oilskin?
This is definitely the way to sell a house. Just ask the T-Rex, if you don’t believe me…
The blurb on the home in Granbury, TX:
Charming 2 bed 1 bath lake house comes fully furnished. Enjoy a great lake side view with room to fish and play outside. 2 storage buildings, 2 car carport, indoor fireplace, screened in patio, 2 porches, a deck. Community has its own boat slip just around the corner. All furniture, dishes, and appliances stay with the property!
Spotter: Realtor, Paul Gallagher
The normally staid – even respectable – town of Cheltenham is apparently in uproar over the lack of aubergines for sale in the town’s Tesco supermarket. To the point of, whisper it softly, actual complaints out loud and even tweets. Thus, to follow the Orange Revolution in Ukraine which overthrew the corrupt oligarchs we have the Aubergine one to demand their return to the fruitnveg racks.
The things is, it’s true:
Those stewing over their loss have launched an online protest and even told the police of their upset.
The furore started when an aubergine fan tweeted Tesco to ask where the veg — which cost 70p each — had gone in the town’s superstore.
A customer services rep said they’d been discontinued, adding: “I wouldn’t be too happy about this myself.”
Shocked shoppers vented their rage on the Twitter page “Bring Back Our Aubergines”.
We could make a comment or two about this. I’ve lived in the place myself and I’m just absolutely certain that it had more than one food shop. Meaning that those essential Moussaka supplies are undoubtedly available somewhere. But there’s something else, too:
SHOPPERS in a posh English town say they are outraged after its Tesco pulled AUBERGINES from the shelves.
Customers at the branch in Cheltenham were told the superstore would only restock the velvety-soft vegetable on request from customers.
Well, why would a supermarket stop stocking something? They are in the business of trying to make a profit by selling things, aren’t they? The answer – obviously enough – being that people weren’t buying them. Or not enough of them to make it worthwhile stocking them.
At which point, those complaining. Why are you complaining, given that people weren’t buying them?
James Joyce wrote Finnegans Wake “lying on his stomach in bed, with a large blue pencil, clad in a white coat, and composed most of Finnegans Wake with crayon pieces on cardboard,” says Maria Popova. “The large crayons… helped him see what he was writing, and the white coat helped reflect more light onto the page at night.”
His obituary in the NYTimes noted:
While living in Zurich Joyce began to suffer from severe ocular illness and eventually underwent at least ten operations on his eyes. For years he was almost totally blind and much of his later writing was done with red crayon on huge white sheets of paper.
“Joyce used a different colored crayon each time he went through a notebook incorporating notes into his draft,” adds Derek Attridge in a review of The Finnegans Wake Notebooks at Buffalo. The crayons were “a scrupulousness which has never been satisfactorily explained”.
And steeped in deep meaning, of course, Unlkess the witer was a great meketeer. As he said: “I’ve put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant – and that’s the only way of insuring one’s immortality.”
To Queens, New York, where a man marking Father’s Day at the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden with his daughter and granddaughter is chewing on his grub. Yum. That mayo and onions on his burger a scrumptious. And it’s juicy too, what with the added ingredient: spit.
Curtis Mays noticed that his bill included the direction: “PLEASE SPIT IN IT TOO.” Mays complained. He’s no picky eater asking for this and that. Just serve the dead cow as it comes.
The manager was called. The waitress was fired. Mays got a free meal. If you don’t want spit in your meal, please ask:
Brexit continues to ripple although British society. The BBC brings news to chill the marrow: “Wetherspoon to stop selling champagne ahead of Brexit.” Who knew you could buy champagne at Wetherspoons? And no, Bronco Pete, Matt The Talc and All-Day Dave, champagne is not a nicety for Tenant’s Super in a glass. It’s the French fizzy wine. News is that Brexit supporting pub landlord Tim Martin, who co-founded the chain of budget boozers, sees the ditching the champers as part of the transition away from products made in the European Union.
“There will be an inevitable transfer of trade post-Brexit to countries outside the EU, which will reduce prices in shops and pubs,” says Martin. “The products we are now introducing are at lower prices than the EU products they are replacing.”
So champagne will be replaced with sparkling wines from the UK, which the BBC tells us, “such as from the Denbies vineyard, and Hardys Sparkling Pinot Chardonnay from Australia”. Well, if Oz can be in the Eurovision Song Contest, why not consider it as part of Kent?
Champagne growers will hope to make up for the loss of trade by doing very little.
In other Brexit news:
WHSmiths stops selling Gutenberg Bibles
Primark closes Chanel concessions
Pound Store says ‘No’ to Rolex
Ted’s Second Hand Motors rejects Ferrari
Heinz Salad Cream is relaunching. The sweetened gunk is to change it name to ‘Sandwich Cream’ because, as the marketing bilge states, “millennials don’t use it on salad.” But they do pour it into artisan bread and avocado sandwiches, apparently. Minds recall the last time Heinz relaunched its product. On 23 March 2000, Denise Van Outen and Graham Norton were at Jongulars Club in London’s Camden. Norton thought it good to present Salad Cream as the perfect substitute for ejaculating on a woman’s chest. Van Outen then smeared the gloop over the end of a priapic hot dog and offered it to Norton to suck on. Is the motto: ‘Heinz Salad Cream: tastes like bottled jizz’?