WATERCOLOURS AT THE TATE

By Phil E. Stein


So, to the Tate Gallery for the Watercolours exhibition. I hadn't realised she'd made that much money being in a mediocre comedy series and then Doctor Who, but I guess that's the BBC's superstar salaries for you.

It was pleasantly surprising to see that some of these painter johnnies had scaled their ideas up appropriately, painting things a bit bigger than their normal shortbread tins, tea trays and non-specific greetings cards:



Those weren't the only sorts of food packaging images on show. Take a look at this one by Richard Parkes Bonington. It was probably for an early version of Pizza Express because they've done it all in Italian like they do, the spinach pizza being a 'Fiorentina', the weird leftovers one being the 'Veneziana', and so on. This was probably used on the box for some sort of herb-topped pizza, the 'Verona, Piazza dell'Erbe'.



(How long before Godsento resurrect that to use that on one of their Instant Language products?)

The food links didn't stop there. Apparently some of the early artists were so hard up they couldn't afford proper materials and would just use whatever food scraps they had to hand.

This one, for example, is a mixture of water colour paint and the tasty Japanese fried treat, tempura:



This one, by comparison, uses watercolours and ganache (a creamy chocolate mixture) on vellum. Vellum is very rare, being the actual skin of a character from 'Lord Of The Rings'. The combination makes it so bright... so beautiful... ah, precious, you might say.



I discovered that painting, just like Photographs, Radio and TV, had started off in black-and-white and sepia, before moving through wishy-washy colour to technicolour. You can see the gradual move to widescreen too.



There were quite a few works from folks from other fields – writers Victor Hugo, for example, whose paintings look about as cheerful as you'd imagine, and nonsense writer Edward Lear. Lear in particular was keen to paint at a high level, was always hanging around with artists, trying to get his name known, and was definitely considered a bit of a wallaby painter.


The next one I noticed was labelled as 'A Beardsley'. Who knew that ex-Newcastle United striker Peter Beardsley could be so precise and delicate?


It was notable that the same names cropped up again and again - Blake, Rosetti, Burne-Jones...


...and lots and lots of Turner, the popular fuzzy artist. Despite the overwhelming amounts of Turner, there were no exhibits on show from Bachman, his partner in rock group Bachman Turner Overdrive, who also wrote the best-selling book about the outcast hobbit that learned to fly and explored Africa, 'Jonathon Livingston Smeagol'.

That's a damn shame, if for no other reason that they could have arranged them so the tour guides could point them out, singing the names of the artists as they go:


(We've got the music here for you to sing along with, if you want...)




Talking of names, at Dulac's 'The Entomologist's Dream', I noted it had been donated by Mr C.D. Rotch. Now, Two Legs Good has written before (here, here and here) on the pitfalls of stupid parents that don't think things through before they name their children, so I'm completely unsurprised that ol' C.D. always maintained the importance of that middle initial. How he must have thanked his parents for calling him C.Rotch!

But let's turn back to Turner. The Tate seems so in awe of Turner that they'll even exhibit some bits of paper he cleaned his brushes on while doing some real paintings:



The last rooms brought us right up to date with contemporary works, some so damned contemporary they haven't been finished yet, or in one extreme, appeared not to even have been started:


Yes, those were really on display.

It was interesting to see these in comparison with typical examples of how most people experience watercolours in real life, and to allow space for some of the gallery staff to bring in the 'art projects' their kids did at school to hang here instead of on their fridge at home.

It's often easy to forget how quickly happiness can fade when children 'do art'...


One child in particular seemed to be trying to tell her own story:


Poor girl - I hope that she's getting good advice to stick in at that violin, because let's face it, she's obviously not much cop as a painter.

Another cheeky wee scamp that might benefit from the same sort of guidance is Rebecca, who thinks she can get away with yet another version of the schoolchilds' ancient but ever-popular joke painting subject, 'Black Cat in a Coal Cellar at Midnight':



I'm guessing that maybe some of these were actually made in a play session in the gallery, perhaps on a bring-your-children-to-work day they'd had recently. The plastic sheeting they'd put down to protect the flooring was still hanging up to dry near the exit.



I must say that leaving an old plastic sheet hanging around like that is a disappointing end to such an informative, enlightening and encouraging show, but if you do go to visit it will probably have been tidied away, it looked quite dry when I left. Perhaps they could find a spare artwork or two to put in it's place?

For instance, I'm sure there's probably a spare Turner or two they haven't used yet – say, some of his sketches on the back of old fag packets, or some tissues he cleaned his brush on or artistically sneezed on – that they could use to pad it out a bit and look less empty.


Oh - one last thing. Watch out for the 'Catalogue' - you might think it'd show all the items on show, but far from it. Bit of a swizz, really.





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BREAD AND CIRCUSES

By Two Legs Good

'Nuff said.






(Thanks, T.)




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PRINCE WILLIAM SHOULD HAVE MARRIED YEARS AGO

By Misty

I am not a happy bunny this morning. As Royal Wedding Correspondent for The Blog With Two Legs I have to write about the blasted event in the run up to The Big Day.

Let me make my stance clear:


1. I don’t care much for weddings, especially when more than 10 people are involved.


2. I don’t care much for the Royal Family.


So now that I’ve got that off my chest, it seems blindingly obvious to me that Prince William should have married what’s-her-name years ago. No, not Britney Spears…the other one… the brunette. Oh you know who I mean.


About ten years ago, when he still had a full head of hair, it was ok for teenage girls to fancy him. It was ok because teenage girls normally fancy the type of 'men' (in quotation marks because teenage girls never fancy proper men – they fancy aging actors pretending to be teenagers in soaps or those modern day eunuchs in boy bands who would never get anywhere with real women). So fancying Prince William was a laudably sensible thing to do.


Parents encouraged it too. Posters of him on teenagers’ bedroom walls meant they could let out a collective sigh of relief. 'At least she doesn’t fancy some coke snorting imbecile prancing about on stage like a gibbering idiot with a red hot poker shoved up his backside.'


Ready for a poker or two.


That’s why it was ok.


But that was ten years ago. Now that Prince William is a balding Prince Charles mini-me it is most certainly not ok to fancy him. Oh no. No siree. Not unless you could truthfully claim to fancying his dad and both his uncles, and if you did that I’d know you were lying, or mad, or both.


Fancy some of that?


All this 'we love Wills, isn’t he a Royal Hunk' nonsense touted in the press really gets my goat. It’s a load of baloney made up by right wing newspapers in order to sell copies of the Daily Mail.


Did they go crazy when Prince Edward got married? No.


Why? Because:


1. Nobody had heard of him.


2. He’s bald in an unattractive bald type way.


3. He picked his bride from the Camilla shelf.



So let’s take off those opaque-rose-tinted specs the press is trying to foist upon us and accept that Prince William should have married a few years ago when he was still arguably attractive. He no longer is, which, by the press’ own rules, is as good a reason as any not to care about his wedding.


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PRINCE CHARLES: NUMBER ONE ALSO-RAN

By Misty

Prince Charles has got to have one of the crappest jobs going. True, it’s nowhere near as grim as emptying bins or processing sewerage, but being named the Longest Serving Heir Apparent is the biggest kick in the teeth I can think of. They may as well have called him the 'Number One Also–Ran'.


He has spent all of his life waiting for a job that now, at an age when most people think about retirement, the press is suggesting goes straight to his eldest son. Ouch! That’s gotta hurt… and it’s not like he can go running to Mummy for sympathy.


In 2010 Prince Charles was the hardest working royal, completing 585 royal engagements, as if effort was going to help in some way. 'Try harder and you WILL be King'. Surely he’s figured out that’s not what helps you get on in life. I mean if anyone should have understood that, you’d think he would.


So what does he have to show for a lifetime of waiting and trying? Nada. Nichts. Just a load of photos of him looking stupid in various ‘traditional outfits’. 'You want me to wear this wicker hat? Of course, I’d be delighted!'


Prince Charles. Nice thatch.

Let’s face it, he wants the job reeeeally badly but he can’t bring himself to do what’s necessary to get it because he’s wanted it ever since he was a nine year old in short trousers still hankering for the comforting arms of his wet nurse. Now, 59 years later, he doesn’t have the job and I’ll bet he’s still hankering…

Oh well, at least the ginger one understands.



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BBC ENGLISH part 2

By Atom Heart Mother

The Blog With Two Legs recently identified that the BBC News service is committing crimes against the English Language so heinous, I for one would consider going back to the Daily Sport for my news were it possible.

When The Blog With Two Legs demonstrated a deterioration in spelling which could, quite literally, be solved by a click of a button, I suspected the cause was mere sloppiness. However, since then further errors have crept in, and my further investigations have revealed the horrific truth behind the death of English at the BBC.

There is a revolutionary plot to take over the BBC!

As Auric Goldfinger said, 'Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time it's enemy action.'

Asylum seekers shld return, shld they?
Happenstance?


That's what they sayd, is it?
Coincidence?

Hague has comdemned them, has he?
Enemy action!

It's obvious that standards are slipping - but more information, more sources were needed. I turned to the BBC News website, and there, in a tiny article in an all but forgotten section, there, that's where I found they'd made their crucial mistake:


It was no longer just spelling! Who could be behind the sudden rise in bad spelling AND unnecessary apostrophes?

I shuddered at the thought - it couldn't be... could it?

I double-checked. I went back to my training, using rigourously scientific principles and highest-grade verified intelligence. What did I know about megalomaniacs that try to take over world-wide organisations by stealth? What do they have in common? Here's the executive summary:

Bad guys. Unfortunately, only two are dead.

So, putting all those clues together, what I was looking for was a bald, sadistic, ruthless greengrocer with megalomaniacal tendencies that loves to shout at people and intends to take over the BBC.

There's only one man fits that description.


The Man From G.R.E.G.G.

I think I've found our man!

Yes - The Blog With Two Legs can exclusively reveal what happened to all those redundant high street greengrocers, and what they did with their illegal stockpiles of unnecessary apostrophes and other WMDs (Weapons of Mass Dyslexia); they've bonded together to form G.R.E.G.G. - the Greengrocers' Revolutionary Elite Guerilla Group.

Now they've infiltrated the BBC at all levels, and they're taunting us, flaunting their new-found power by inflicting their symbolic figurehead, The Man From G.R.E.G.G. himself, Gregg Wallace.

Just look at the overwhelming evidence:

Gregg Wallace on 'Veg Talk'
Gregg Wallace on 'Saturday Kitchen'
Gregg Wallace on 'Follow That Tomato'
Gregg Wallace on 'Just The Two Of Us'
Gregg Wallace on 'The Money Programme'
Gregg Wallace on 'No, Missus, I've A Cucumber In My Pocket'
Gregg Wallace on 'Turn Back Time: The High Street'
Gregg Wallace on 'Masterchef'
Gregg Wallace on 'Celebrity Masterchef'
Gregg Wallace on 'Masterchef: The Professionals'

Then ask yourself this - other than as part of some Secret Evil Conspiracy, in any sane world can you think of any possible good reason Gregg Wallace would be on so many programmes?


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ADDICT QUEEN CORNERS BIRTHDAY MARKET

By Two Legs Good

Today is Maundy Thursday, a day when the Queen celebrates the memory of the Last Supper by a ceremonial 'giving of alms'. The BBC will be, as they say, covering the celebration. They have Nicholas Witchell eagerly reporting from an open-air platform in Westminster.

Apparently - and we must respect his inside knowledge on this one, for he is BBC News' Royal Correspondent - the Queen will distribute small bags of coins to a group of elderly citizens 'as part of the Maundy Thursday celebrations, and this is the first time it's coincided with her 85th birthday'.

Really?

How many 85th birthdays has this woman had?

We know that the Queen has a real birthday, then another set day each year as the state-recognised 'official' birthday. That's two birthdays a year, 100% more than most people, and a whopping 700% more than folks born on February 29.

Already one of the richest women in the world, according to Witchell she's not just contant with that, she's now celebrating her 85th birthday every year. Presumably that means she celebrates the other 84 of them too, so she's now spending an astonishing 1 in 4 days celebrating her birthdays!

Does Witchell not realise the harm this sort of information can do? All it takes is a leak like this from a favoured insider such as him, and the fashion is set. Soon royalists everywhere will be celebrating birthdays every week, and Great Britain will soon smother itself beneath a blanket of wrapping paper, gorged on cake and cava, and worrying about who they sent that obscene drunken phone-cam picture to.

Admitedly, there have been rumours and clues of her addiction for some time now. Addicts always find some sneaky way to feed their addiction that the rest of us won't notice unless we're looking for it:

Her Madge... never far from a good Cake-Hat.


We implore the House of Windsor, the Royal Family, to stage an intervention... for the sake of the nation, this madness must stop!


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Rest In Peace

By Two Legs Good


Elisabeth Sladen


1948-2011





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A NICE BIT OF STONE-CLADDING ©™ - Part 7

By Two Legs Good

Yes, it's another Sunny Soaraway Stone-Cladding Sunday!


Now, a lot of times when we bring you the latest architastrophe we've spotted whilst out and about our fair Londonshire, we point out - as we did last week - that not only is it ugly, but how much it stands out from any more tasteful surroundings.

We're not really sure that we'd be on terra firma with those this week.

Oh sure, it's ugly, that's a given. But sitting, as it does, next to a house that has been painted orange, it has more than half a claim to be the more subtly decorated of the pair.


It's not that we don't like orange - just look at what you're reading, for goodness sake. No, we like orange - we just don't expect it as the colour of the average suburban dwelling.

What's more worrying though is the indication of the thinking of whoever stoneclad this building.

You might expect us to continue here with a tirade about taste or common-sense, and most often you'd be right, we would. But on this occasion what concerns us is the preparation some homeowner has made.

The preparation for an armed seige in that house.

Look, for example, at the cunning way the house and outer walls have been matched in colour and texture, even down to the facing of the steps. That all makes it difficult to determine where relative edges are - so someone can move between them, and any police sniper would be confused as to range.

The crazy angles of the house itself don't help, making any marksman wonder if they need their eyes tested.

We could also draw attention to the abnormal level of detailing where every edge - even between rooftiles and wall - has been meticulously sealed by stone-cladding. We suppose that'd make the house pretty gas-proof, as well as having the advantage of keeping any noises, like (for example) screams, in.

But it's one particular feature that makes us worry more than most. One feature that surely cannot be accidental, and yet is completely out of place on any modern building.

The arrowslit:


Normally arrowslits were in castle walls, a thin slit that allowed an archer (or later, riflemen) to fire at will on targets outside, while staying safe since the slit was so narrow that they could barely be seen. It turned the castle into a sort of fortified snipers nest.

Now maybe they're preparing to defend themselves during the Food Riots of 2018. Perhaps they're readying themselves for a Zombie Invasion, or for the Total Global Apocalypse following Berlusconi's Droop. But those ideas seem unlikely.

So why would anyone include an arrowslit sniper spot in the attic of a modern suburban house?

Why indeed...


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BERLUSCONI: The Shagger's Conundrum

By Misty

Italian hot-stuff premier Silvio Berlusconi was recently quoted in The Sunday Times as saying:

'When asked if they would like to have sex with me, 30% of women said ‘Yes’, while the other 70% replied: ‘What, again?’ '


Since reading that quote, I have been able to think of little else. I have literally lost sleep over it. I have even skim-read his Wikipedia entry to find out more about this modern day Casanova. You see, this statistic (and I assume a full scientific study of which Ben Goldacre would approve was conducted in order to quantify this result) has deep and far reaching implications; not only for me, but all women the world over.

Silvio Berlusconi is The Sexiest Man On The Planet.


Let me say that again: Silvio Berlusconi is The Sexiest Man On The Planet.

He must be. I mean, can you think of anyone else so universally desired?

George Clooney?

Brad Pitt?

Johnny Depp?

I know women who’d turn them down but I honestly cannot think of any other man whom 100% of women want to or have already shagged. That’s quite something. There’s no 'Undecided' group, no 'Errrr haven’t really thought about it' group, and no (heaven forbid) 'Yikes! Definitely not!' group. It’s a fact that all women either want to have sex with Silvio Berlusconi, or if they’ve already done it, want to do it again.

So this leads me to what has caused me so much lost sleep. It’s what I like to call 'The Shagger’s Conundrum'.

Consider this:

Women worldwide fall into one of two groups: Group A are the women that would like to have sex with him, and Group B are the women that have already had sex with him and (therefore) want more sex with him.

When a woman in Group A shags Silvio Berlusconi, she moves to Group B. As a member of Group B, it becomes increasingly likely that she will shag Silvio Berlusconi again because

(1) she’ll want to (see the rules of being in Group B), and

(2) he’ll want to (see the rules of Being Silvio Berlusconi. You can probably google them, or something. )

Since Silvio Berlusconi is always on the look-out for girls in Group A to shag (again, refer to the rules of Being Silvio Berlusconi) this means that the amount of shagging he has to do just to keep up (no pun intended) increases exponentially. Just think of an uncontrolled nuclear reaction and you’ve got the right idea.

However, when we take into account the fact that the world’s population is expanding at a faster rate than Silvio Berlusconi can move girls from Group A to Group B and keep girls in Group B happy, his relative shag-rate actually decreases over time.

If we also take into account age-related factors of male virility, his relative shag-rate decreases yet further.


Initially this shouldn’t be a problem because the effects shouldn’t be too noticeable. Unfortunately, as time goes on demand will exceed supply by larger and larger margins, making 'bed time with Berlusconi' an increasingly valuable commodity.

We have seen the effects of demand out weighing supply, and it always ends in a big ugly fight where people get badly hurt.

In the case of Silvio Berlusconi, The Sexiest Man On The Planet, it can only end in Total Global Apocalypse and if the end of the world is nigh, I know what I want to do...



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A MAN, A VAN, AND A...?

By Two Legs Good

It's amazing what you can order over the internet these days.


We didn't see inside, but all we can imagine is a plethora of hoses, nozzles and tubes of sealant...


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WE THANK YOU!

By Two Legs Good

HUGE THANK YOUS to all our wonderful readers for propelling us to the Number 2 spot in the worldwide 'blogrankings' humour chart, and Number 3 in the worlwide 'blogtopsites' humour chart!

From about 40 hits a day less than a month ago when we resumed service, in the first two hours of today alone we received over 4,000 hits!

THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!

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A NICE BIT OF STONE-CLADDING ©™ - Part 6

By Two Legs Good

Yes, it's another Sunny Soaraway Stone-Cladding Sunday!


Take a look at this smile:


Now, it's not perfect, but it's by no means unpleasant. Sure, there's a little natural discolouration, some tiny imperfections, but generally speaking it's perfectly acceptable; clean, healthy and natural.

So if that were your smile, you wouldn't do this to it, would you?


That single, over-whitened tooth now stands out like a sore thumb, doesn't it? In context, it looks completely unnatural, bizarre and fake.

No one in their right mind would willingly do that, would they?


Would they?


Or... would they?


It seems that yes - they would...


As if that weren't bad enough though, assaulting the senses with the architectural equivalent of cheap Hollywood veneers, it's been compounded by laziness or stupidity. We're not sure which option is worse. What did they think?

"No, no - we only need to do the front wall of the house. When people look at the house they only look at it from the front, don't they?"

Yes, that's right - and if you want to hide from Mummy and Daddy, put your hands over your eyes so you can't see them, then they won't see you either...

If you're the owner and you're reading this, just to make it clear for you, we know the 'stonework' is fake. There's a few clues we spotted:

The first clue is that your house is part of a terrace and NO OTHER HOUSE has a 'stone' finish!

The second clue - and frankly, it's a gigantic freakin' unmissable clue - is that YOUR HOUSE IS THE END OF TERRACE HOUSE! WE CAN SEE THE SIDE OF YOUR HOUSE WHERE YOU DIDN'T BOTHER CLADDING IT!


It's just all so... Croydon.

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BBC ENGLISH

By Two Legs Good

Some time ago the BBC was considered a bastion of the English language. Obviously, the days of the 'Received Pronunciation' accent are long gone, but it now seems that the standards of written communication are slipping too.

This is most obvious on the BBC news channel. Grammar is a luxury that is all but ignored, and as for spelling, well... correct spelling appears to be optional.

Here's a couple of current examples. At the time of writing this piece there are only two news stories on the rotating news banners. (We understand our cousins in the American colonies call them 'Chyrons' - sounds like something Doctor Who would fight, but it's a convenient term so we'll use it for the time being.)

News International are apologising 'unreservedy'.
Not 'unreservedly', but 'unreservedy'.


There's been a shooting on a nuclear 'sumbarine'.
Not a 'submarine', but a 'sumbarine'.

These mistakes are left to rotate around our screens, often for hours at a time. Many are never corrected, they only disappear when a new headline takes it's place.

Where are the editors and sub-editors? Why are standards so lax?

These aren't long, complex paragraphs. These aren't novels. They're headlines, or sub-headlines. They're short, they're simple. They should not be a challenge!

Really, can the writers not even press the 'spellcheck' button? Are they both that arrogant and ignorant at the same time?

Do they really care so little about how Britain is portrayed to the world?

Do they really care so little about their own standard of work?

Have they no pride, no self-respect?

Perhaps the most unfortunate one of these we've seen was during a report on the government wishing to test possible immigrants to make sure they had a basic working knowledge of English:


Yes - the BBC really did report that this concerned 'immigrants wishing to come Britain to marry'. Presumably travelling for many moon, or in belly of great white bird.




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HOW TO ACHIEVE PEACE WITH LIBYA

By Two Legs Good

A little while ago when North Korea was being a bit tiresome, we encouraged all you wonderful readers to send Kim Jong-il a kitten immediately (HOW TO ACHIEVE PEACE WITH NORTH KOREA), and then also threatened to unleash the Deadly Assassin Killer Kittens on him (HOW TO ACHIEVE PEACE WITH NORTH KOREA PART 2). You'll note that North Korea is barely mentioned in the news these days.

You're welcome!

Now, however, it looks like we need to find a way to put Libya's equivalent of Simon Cowell, Muammar Gaddafi, on the naughty step.

Muammar Gaddafi


What to do, what to do?

Well, if music has charms to soothe a savage breast, we here at The Blog With Two Legs are always ready to turn everything up to 11. We know you won't tell anyone, so here's the plan:

As you'd expect, our crack team of SAS-trained Deadly Assassin Killer Kittens have already infiltrated Libya, and returned with vital intelligence about Gaddafi and his habits.

Undercover Kittens

The biggest problem is getting past Gaddafi's Amazonian Guard, an all-female elite cadre of bodyguards also known as "Gaddafi's Angels". They've been trained in all manner of situations, and to react to the slightest sight or sound without thinking.

Gaddafi with Amazonian Guard


However, the far-sighted William Congreve provided us with the solution in The Mourning Bride:

Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd,
And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd,
By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound.


And there's the key! The Magic Numbers! As luck would have it Ealing's own cheeky, chipper popsters are, according to our undercover mogspys, Gaddafi's favourite band!

Wacky chart-botherers

From there on, it's easy! We simply get The Magic Numbers to go play for Gaddafi and his retinue. He spends enough time dressed up as Michael jackson, he won't say no to going to a gig. They play a few of their snazzy tunes, and then slip in a new number - the persuasive sound of "Yakety Sax"!

We know from some of the Gaddafi's Angels' training videos that they're trained to react to that in one way - that their leader's place has been taken over by an imposter, and they must kill the doppelganger. The chase is on!

Gaddafi's Angels Training Video

Just in case that goes wrong, in the confusion we smuggle in one of the even-more elite Deadly Assassin Killer Kittens Kamikaze Squad to finish off the job. Obviously, we've had to obscure their identity for security reasons.

Kamikazi Kitten


Again - you're welcome!



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EBAY AUCTION OF THE WEEK #02 (Male Vocalist)

By Two Legs Good

Wandering through the Land of Ebay, this caught our eye. It's an auction seemingly placed by someone - a Male Vocalist - looking to attract other musicians to play with.


What a picture to use when he's trying to attract other band members, other musicians.

Cold eyes.
Dead eyes.
Cold, dead eyes.

And that happy, smiling, cheery, welcoming look? We've seen that look before, which might explain why the photo looks like it's been badly cropped from another:


He says his style is "hall & oats, steely dan, james taylor, the carpenters, barry manilow, rick astly, the beach boys".

Yes, well, they obviously all go with that happy-go-lucky expression he's showing us. We don't know anything about this area, but can any reader confirm if those are (as we suspect) prison-slang terms for deviant behaviour?


Con #1: "What are you in for?"

Con #2: "Carpenters"

Con #1: "I didn't know you had a sister."

or

Con #3: "Fancy a quick Hall & Oates after lights-out?"

or

Con #4: "Beach Boys in the showers later - bring your soap."

or

Con #5: "I walks in, there 'e was, 'aving a Rick Astley!"


He says he likes to "feed off the others round me". With some fava beans and a nice chianti, perhaps? Mind you - that'd explain the Rick Astley reference:

Never gonna give you up!
Never gonna let you go!
Never gonna turn around
and untie you...

Well done, fgmaj, take a bow - your auction wins our "Ebay Auction Of The Week"!


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