Saturday, 26 February 2011
I've never used the 'recent bereavement' method for dealing with cold callers but I did once conjure up a story about a colony of light sensitive 'mole people' whilst persuading a replacement window salesperson that their product was insufficiently opaque for my needs...
Original article here
(Article by Michael Holden)
Amid the debate around minimum pricing for alcohol, I should point out that, in six years of writing this column, it's been my experience that people who have paid more to get drunk say duller things while they're getting there. The cut-price drinker might reach oblivion faster and generally live a shorter life but, on balance, they get the better lines. This discourse from my local bargain hostelry being a case in point.
Man 1 "I told a feller on the phone my wife was dead."
Man 2 "But she's not?"
Man 1 "Nah, but it was the call centre. Three days in a row they'd asked for her, so I told them she was dead – and you could see it took the wind out their sails."
Man 2 "Well it would …"
Man 1 "I really turned it on, sobbing and that. Got quite into it. I could hear the feller was upset too. He said they'd delete the number – never call back."
Man 2 "A result then?"
Man 1 "Not really. Once I heard how moved he was I started to feel bad. I'm not cut out for the lying, you know."
Man 2 "It's true."
Man 1 "If I were, life would have been easier. Instead, I felt like one of those murderers who does a press conference for the person they've killed, asking for help and that."
Man 2 "But they drive you to it, though – the calls."
Man 1 "Maybe. Either way, I was glad when she walked through the door."
Man 2 "In case she had died?"
Man 1 "Yeah, which would have been typical of her."
Monday, 21 February 2011
Every time I pass this particular place on Berwick Street I feel like I'm watching the rather tragic inexorable slow death of a takeaway, in the knowledge that the previous occupants of the premises (hotdogs, sushi, mexican etc.) have all lasted around 6 months.
First of all they had installed a man on the door offering 'free meat' to passers by & recently a rather forlorn handwritten sign appeared, trumpeting the fact that they use 'a frying pan & NOT a microwave' to make breakfast but it still seems to remain empty.
I'm in the firm belief that certain buildings & retail premises are cursed, with the various occupants doomed to failure. Am wishing them well...
Ok, it's not illustration or animation but I make exquisite guitar noise with Das Flüff & wave megaphones around in a dangerous manner & thought you might want to hear this too
Saturday, 19 February 2011
After playing with several Gypsy/carpark/well-known-cartoon-character-with-explicit drug-reference combinations I figured this illustratory* route would leave me less on the road to future legal action.
On the other hand the consumption of the kind of beer you only get in gold & black cans on public transport slightly appeals to me but purely for the fact of pissing Boris Johnson off. Me? Childish? You bet!
(I'll shut up, you can read the article here)
(Article by Michael Holden)
Having failed to visibly outrage anyone by drinking lager on the tube, the four young men sat opposite me seemed anxious to raise the stakes by talking openly about cannabis. First, though, they had a more immediate problem – one born of their initial transgression.
Man 1 (distressed) "I need a piss."
Man 2 "This isn't our stop!"
Man 1 (leaving the carriage) "I can't hold on. I'll meet you there."
Man 2 "What's up with him? He's only had, like, one pint."
Man 3 (looking at his can of lager) "I swam through my brother's sick on holiday. I thought it was coral at first – it was all in my goggles and shit. This was on the Great Barrier Reef. It's a sick country, Australia."
Man 4 "Fuck Australia!"
Man 2 (holding a bit of paper) "Make the roach nice, that was one of the first things I learned about smoking."
Man 4 "What's that?"
Man 2 (rolling it up) "It's my bus ticket, keep the white bit on the outside, you have to twist it. That way you get feedback."
Man 3 "Back in the day I used to think I was the don. I used to get bare stoned and just watch The Simpsons. Nobody knew. I was 13."
There was no reaction to this, so he upped the ante.
Man 3 "That was before I got expelled."
Man 4 "Do you wanna get off and fight?"
Man 3 "I fight Gypsies in car parks – like on that show."
Man 4 "Downgrade your status!"
With that they were off, checking as they went to see if anyone had noticed them.
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Meh! Crappy illustration - what can I say - definitely an off day...
(article by Michael Holden)
Late one Saturday afternoon in a pub deserted save for myself, two pool players and the bar staff, who were watching Catchphrase on the TV, a man walked in looking anxious.
Man "I don't want to put you out, but can you stick the football on?"
The staff simultaneously turned forlorn, as though this would constitute a disaster.
Man (not quite believing what was happening) "What, you're actually watching this?"
Barman (sadly) "What match was it you wanted?"
Barman (holding out his iPhone) "What score did you want? I can get it on my phone."
Man "It's the FA Cup, I want to watch the scores come in, for all the games."
Man (rightly miffed) "I'd like to sit down and pay you the best part of four quid for a pint, while you – who are paid to be here – turn over the television which you, or whoever runs this pub, pays thousands of pounds a year to show live football on. It doesn't seem to me to be a lot to ask."
Barman (sort of standing up) "Well …"
Man (snapping) "Fucking Catchphrase … it hasn't been on for 10 years. Or is this a classic episode? One of the greats. 'Say what you see.' I'll say what I see: you lot in here, taking the piss."
Barman (relenting) "I'll turn it over."
Man (not having it and walking away) "No, you stay where you are. I'll go somewhere where it's not a problem. It's places like this that give drinking a bad name."
I looked around me, and he was right.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Rainy grey Sunday in Hastings - am confronted with the four most chilling words in the English language 'Rail Replacement Bus Service' - the only people on the streets in St Leonards are a horde of dog-faced kids pointing at buses
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Ok, ok, it's a real curtain not a digital one, & nope, he's not a wizard AT ALL!
(we're definitely not in Kansas any more either - I'm sure they don't make masturbation references in illustrations there - no sirree!)
Read original article here
(Article by Michael Holden)
Two men in a pub – reassured no doubt by the physical nature of their conversation – were speaking loudly about the benefits of doing things in the real, as opposed to the digital, world.
Man 1 "What time are the band on?"
Man 2 "11.15 I think."
Man 1 "You think?"
Man 2 (wearily) "I asked the venue. They have a site and I sent an email saying, 'When are they on?' The woman emailed me back and said, 'Why are you asking – are you in the band?'"
Man 1 (half laughing) "Jesus!"
Man 2 "The band have a site as well – I emailed them – they didn't get back to me."
Man 1 "This is the problem with the internet: everybody's got a fucking site – but who are the idiots behind them? I mean, if you were running a real business and you heard someone not answering the phone – or delivering basic information – you could step in."
Man 2 "You do wonder how much of this is driving the recession – digital idiocy, dressed up as work."
Man 1 "True. It's incompetence veiled behind a virtual curtain."
Man 2 "You pull back the curtain – and there's nothing there. No one."
Man 1 "Not even the Wizard of Oz. Not even an old man who might apologise and give you something useful."
Man 2 "Not even. Pull back the curtain and there's just someone there wanking off – going, 'Why? Are you in the band?'"
Man 1 (excited) "The wanker of Oz!"
Man 2 (happy to have worked out a phrase that those around him would be hearing a lot more of) "Exactly."