Tasty

71% out of 300 women agree.

Let that sink in a little. Would this sway you into buying a skin care product now that so many women endorse it? No, I didn't think so and that dear intelligent blog reader is because you know what I know and that 71% (213) of 300 women works out at 0.0000143177% of the UK population of women between the ages of 15 and 65.

Small isn't it?

But then again so is everything.

Petrol often features in the news, currently its around the £1.30'ish per litre but did you know that the price is minuscule when compared to say something like printer ink. Many moons ago when ink jet printing was in its infancy I remember filling up a colour ink jet using separate cartridges, they were big cartridges too holding 250ml of ink and costing £4 each. A few years later and a new printer arrived in the office, it too had separate colour cartridges only this time they cost £10 each and £12 for black but ran out very quickly. It was soon discovered that they had only 40ml in each one. Last year I ditched my home colour ink jet because the cartridges were way too expensive at nearly £40 for a four colour set and each colour had only 4ml inside. I could of course bought cheap alternatives but from experience I'd end up with a lot of head cleaning as a consequence.

When you work it out Petrol comes out at 0.0013 per ml whilst printer ink comes in at a whopping £2.50 per ml and it gets worse, the reduction in the regular size has meant they can now offer a better 'value' XL ink cartridge for a slightly higher price. It still comes in the same cartridge they have just filled it up a bit more with coloured ink (water!) back to what it was before!

Statistics and perceptions are constantly challenged, one massive indicator that you are about to be mislead is a change in packaging. Companies don't change packaging lightly so no matter how much something says 'Still the same great taste!' or 'Better Than Ever!' from my experience its all a ruse to cover something up. We use a popular type of shower gel that comes in a range of colours, last year when we went to top them up we noticed the packaging had changed, some of the names had changed and the price had gone up. When we inquired we were told it was to take into account the new European laws regarding packaging. What a load of rubbish, when we got home we compared like for like and true enough not only had the packaging changed but also had the colour, smell, name and of course its ability to produce bubbles, a favourite brand had cheapened out a little.

Anyway why this blog today?

Well, it's all about cheese.

The packaging has changed on my favourite cheese, it still tells me that nothing has changed and its the same great flavour only it's gone up a little in price. I like cheese, cheese has been a staple of mine for as long as I can remember (spare the jokes about me being cheesy) cheese and pickle, cheese and cucumber with brown sauce sandwiches, specialty cheeses, artisan cheeses I have tried them all so don't lie to me about my current favourite cheese!

Normally when I cut it you get a small but firm crumble to it, now it sticks together like plastic, not only that but the pack is still the same size but I now get 350g instead of 400g for my money. It also tastes different and here's the test; melts differently, always a sign that some of the fat content has been jigged around with. So naturally I'm disappointed in a unpleasy cheesy kinda way and that gets me in a frame of mind to see facts and figures for what they really are. If I'm unhappy about something I start to see other things I am unhappy with such as hair adverts and ink cartridges.

So today I'm having a facts and figures free day to help or so I thought until I started to write todays blog. Aarrgh! At least I'm not going to inadvertently glance in a shopping trolley like yesterday and have an image burned on my retina, I went to bed and had a nightmare of a nurse beating me to death with an oiled cucumber. I woke up comparing toothpaste tubes.

I'm so not right.

Safety In Cucumbers

At some point in a shopping trip most men visit the safety seat, you know the ones, they are always next to the changing rooms. Groups of men huddle with their faces buried in their mobile phones as they wait for their better half to finish looking at garment number 726 before deciding that the first one in the first shop you went in was the right one. They are called safety seats down to two reasons, firstly your other half knows you are safely within earshot for approval and scrutiny and secondly they also know that being little boys that never grow up we are less likely to wander away into the crowds so for our safety they exist.

I sat there today, handbag in hand and pondered all this. I must point out that the handbag was not indeed mine as passers by may have thought but Jaynes who had left me entrusted with it (for safety on the safety seat) whilst she rummaged through a pile of clothes that she had taken into the changing rooms with her. Seated to one side was an elderly gentleman, he had no phone to distract him so sort of fell into a kind of stupor bordering on distress, I could tell this from his eyes that started to gradually close only to shoot open when he realised he was being shouted. Distressed he had missed something vitally important he would then over compensate with 'yes, love' and 'no, love' before returning to his stupor world as she whisked away to try on a trench coat or something. He was unfortunately a long way from his pipe and slippers moment.

I had other problems, I don't handle handbags easily. I mean I do hold them and I don't mind holding them it's just that I have never been trained on how to hold one and not look, how can I say this, frivolous. Anyway this one also clashed with my clothes making it stand out even more, pink is not very flattering when it's sat on your lap although it did make the underneath of my chin look ruddy, you know just like when you hold a buttercup underneath and it goes yellow. I say ruddy as that probably describes what I imagined I looked like with a pink bounce back but in reality I probably looked more like a underlit red faced drunk. The handbag was one thing but what concerned me most was this.

A bloody wall! I was sat on a seat (comfy) with my nose fourteen inches from a wall, I could barely get my knees in! The chair was also fixed in place so who thought it was a great idea? I looked like a bloody crooked flamboyant elf sat scrunched up sporting a pink bit of ladyware so I was even more amazed when an unknown young lady came out of the changing rooms and turned to me to ask 'Has Stephanie come out yet?'

Respectfully I put my handbag to one side and replied.

'Who the bloody hell is Stephanie?'

'Don't get your knickers in a twist grandpops!' and with that consummate wit she disappeared back into the changing room.

Grandpops!?! Have I really reached the 'look like a grandpops' age? I was sporting a pink handbag didn't that count for anything!

Jayne popped her head out.

'What do you think?' She asked using that steely voice that could change to ice cold revenge or all out war if I said the wrong thing about what she was wearing.

'Do I look like a grandad?' I said which was obviously the wrong thing I realised not nano seconds later as the temperature in the room dropped by twenty degrees. First rule of Shopping Club is always talk about the shopping items first.

Forty minutes later I was lumbering under the weight of bags very similar to a sherpa would up the side of Everest and over the road into M&S. The food aisle is always at the back in these places so it was no surprise to have to lumber a bit further until I was within a few feet of the entrance when from one side came a rather large woman with a trolley. Not sure if it was momentum or a dislike of lumbering men but she succeeded in careering into my legs. She stopped, I stopped and I was about to say something when I looked down.

Down into a pink bag.

Look down here.

No, further down.

Pretend you're me and look into the bag.

Now try and talk to the large lady that had run into you without conjuring up mental images for the bag contained several items that made speech impossible.

A naughty nurse outfit (XXL), some slippy cream and a back massager the size of an overgrown cucumber.

Oh, and a cock ring.

My flab was gasted, my innocence shattered, we were in M&S for god sake, I only wanted a bag of crisps!

I purposely went to find the changing rooms so I could have a sit down in safety. Jayne came over to me, 'How sweet, you have sat down to allow me to shop and I didn't think you wanted me to buy any more.'

'Did you see what was in that, that, that, ladies bag? Did you? Did you?' I was starting to gibber.

'Here, here' she said soothingly 'You stay here, I'll go and sneak a look.'

Minutes later I turned to a wide eyed Jayne sat next to me. 'She's going to kill someone isn't she?'

'Yes' I said 'I believe she is.'

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Variety

The garden seems to have taken a bit of a battering this Summer with the high winds, torrential downpours, thunder, lightning and the occasional hail storm but despite the weather the garden has now reached a turning point sliding into autumn as many of the plants start to bare fruit.

The two apple trees we have are situated in Bunnyopolis so every morning three happy rabbits come skittling out to look for windfalls. Once found they then have a bit of a competition to see who can eat the most so we have taken to removing the windfalls before hand and deviding them up equally before handing them back to our eager and hungry bunnies. It's either that or watch Iona scoff the lot!

There are two types of apple to help with the pollination and both are providing impressive fruit with incredible sweetness. In the garden though it's strange varieties of anything that we like to grow. We have normal stuff too like pencil beans and mini sweet corn but the oddest varieties are kept for the green house.

This year we have ten varieties of tomatoes starting with this wonderful one, the black tomato. A bite of this is a cross between a citrus fruit tang and a sweet after taste, certainly different and unique enough to give tomatoes a completely new taste. They don't go completely black though, just a very dark red / brown colour, still strange to see hanging like a bunch of grapes.

My favourite at the moment is the striped tomatoes with their lovely marbling pattern that changes to red and orange as they ripen. Again the taste is quite different from shop bought ones and we like nothing more than a few of these straight from the vine popped into a salad.

So a bit of a reflective morning before I start work, the change in the garden and the dwindling light at night reminds me that Autumn is close and although I like Autumn I can't help feeling that we haven't really had our Summer yet. September as usual is our busiest period at Impossimal HQ, it would just be nice to have a little bit more sun before it all kicks off again.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Couldn't Careline - Your Friendless Switchboard

Welcome to Blogging The Impossimal careline, your call is important to us please select from the following options. Press 1 if you can't read today's blog, press 2 if today's blog is not funny, press 3 to register your disgust, press 4 to hear some filthy talk, press 5 to hear these options again because you didn't listen the first time or hold to speak to an operator.

Your call is number 253, your waiting time is approximately one hour and twenty nine minutes. Please be aware all calls are recorded for amusement purposes or to prove a point should you become abusive, calls cost £1 a minute unless you pressed option 4 our premium naughty service which is billed separately at £3 per naughty word, moans cost an extra £1 for fake and £5 for genuine. Option 4 will be discreetly listed on your bill as XXX HOT ACTION to avoid embarrassment.

You have pressed 1, please hold...

I'm sorry, if you have pressed one you are indeed telling porkies as that option was only available to readers of today's blog and as you are reading this we deem you to be a reader and thus option 1 has been removed for your safety as you obviously can't tell the difference between reading and not reading. Possibly you also are not sure of the difference between light and dark or near and far. Please press 1 to return to the menu.

1

Didn't you read that last bit? I said option 1 has been removed. God you are so stupid, please hold whilst I get something to slap you with. We are returning you back to our main menu, don't press 1 again.

2

Really? Not funny? I tell you what matey you wouldn't know funny if you visited the Funhouse at 26 Fun Street in Funtown. You want funny? Well I'll give you funny.

How many unfunny people does it take to change a lightbulb?

One, just you.

Want another one?

Knock, knock

Who's there?

Ura

Ura who?

Ura arsehole.

Who's funny now eh? Hang on everybody I'm sending Mr Unfunny back to the switchboard and disabling option 2. Get ready to be underwhelmed with a caller who obviously has a case of the stupids today.

3

Thankyou for registering your disgust, it has been duly noted that we are indeed disgusted with you and it was so nice for you to admit it. For your convenience we have posted onto your Facebook and Twitter feeds and asked your friends and family to rate how disgusted they are with you. Returning you back to the switchboard.

5

Are you that stupid that you can't remember the options? Options 1 to 3 have been disabled for stupids, please wait for an operator. You are call 2735, the approximate waiting time is two months. We will be with you as soon as possible in the meantime press 4 to listen to music or wait to listen to a fog horn mixed with a whistle at high volume.

4

Welcome to 'Make Me Moan!' Our premium Hot Hot Line, we have put you through to Peter our voluptuous 44DD curvy model from Sweden with long golden hair and the smell of fresh laundry.

'Hey baby, my name is Peter, would you like to hear me moan?'

Press 7 for a small moan, 8 for an average moan and 9 for a full on moan.'

9

Full moan selected

'Hey baby, I'm absolutely sick of the news on television, it's full of misery delivered in a mind numbing sensational way that winds me up. Newspapers are just as bad. Why does nobody use indicators when driving any more? What's with all the 50 mph speed limits we now have? Why does at your convenience always lead to more inconvenience? Only today I phoned a switchboard only to be...'

'Click'

Bzzzzzt.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Bakey Bakey

Anybody watching the Great British Bake Off last night was treated to an insight into the story of the humble ice cream cone and the penny licks. Its a fascinating tale that I researched for the 2012 release of the Crystal Tipped Unicone, part of the foodie themed Lost Impossimals that continues today of which I have included the story below. The Cantering Caketacular Queen Of Bakes from the 2013 Bloodlines collection found here also delves into cooking history with a brief outline of Victorian cookbookery shenanigans along with the Pompidoo's French Fancy Filly a story naturally about French Fondants, click here to read.

I'm still researching this cookery period for the next set of Lost Impossimals - Revelations in 2015 and its thrown up some surprising connections between food, science and indeed famous authors.

The Crystal Tipped Unicone

In 1879, Charles, enjoying a little time at his London retreat and at the Victoria Empire Club one particularly hot day felt in need of refreshment. Outside of the club a street vendor was selling ‘penny licks’, basically ice cream served in special glass which you could lick the ice cream from. As Charles licked away he chatted to the vendor, a one Italo Marchiony, who was having a problem.

His serving glasses had the particular problem of sometimes breaking, at other times being stolen and all too often being a little too unsanitary for most people. Charles thought about it a while and agreed, indeed it needed a solution. Returning to the club he buried himself in the library positive he would find something that would help Italo.

In a dusty corner he found a battered book dating back to 1790, it detailed a journey through the Arctic Cordillera Mountains, one fraught with many a danger as the explorer searched for a creature called the Unicone. It detailed a trail that eventually led to a hidden mountain that was usually covered in snow and totally white but once every ten years that snow would melt for two weeks revealing that the mountain was in fact totally ice. The Unicones would then emerge from crystal carrying an assortment of coloured ice cream. It was this that intrigued Charles, what on earth did they carry them in? Maybe this was the solution for Italo.

A year later Charles found himself at the beginning of a path through the mountains, using the battered book as a guide Charles eventually found the fabled mountain, which actually looked all rather ordinary, and made camp, he was a few days early so he patiently waited. He was not disappointed.

At the beginning of the second day a fresh storm brewed up confining him to his tent for a few hours, as he emerged he was almost blinded by the light. The mountain in front of him had exploded in colour, acting like a giant prism the whole mountain shimmered and changed colour almost on a whim, thousands of coloured speckles only heightened the effect, on the highest peaks he could see many creatures dancing or even prancing around the edges, maybe these were the fabled Unicones?

Using his specially adapted telescope he zoomed in on the closest, it was the most charming beast he had ever witnessed, a cross between a French Fancy Filly and a Four Legged Frump, it had a purple tail, dinky flowers around it’s back legs and across it’s neck eight smooth looking curls complimenting it’s intricate spiraled horn and it’s piercing eyes.

 As he watched they all danced together in rings, occasionally placing their crystal tipped horn into a sweet looking pool. As they pulled out the horn a quick flick of the head dislodged a cone shaped object. This object was then picked up in their mouths and used to scoop up the multitudes of ice cream that dotted the mountain and gave it that speckled colour look which from a distance looked like the whole mountain had been sprinkled with hundreds and thousands.

Charles was awe struck, it was beautiful and he fell under its spell immediately unable to turn away for an instant. Charles remained watching the mountain for another eight hours until nightfall when the spell of the mountain relented and the Unicones returned to their caves for the night.

In 1881 Charles was back in London and set to earnestly painting the Crystal Tipped Unicone, telling Italo, the ice cream vendor that he had found his solution but would say no more. In June of the same year the painting was complete, Charles led Italo into his studio and pulled away the sheet covering the painting.

‘Bello!’ Italo exclaimed then promptly fainted; he had never seen anything so beautiful. When he came too Charles explained the method the Unicone employed to Italo who beamed ear to ear as the penny dropped.

It took many years of experimentation on the streets of London with some memorable disasters involving toffee and another using sugared bread until a breakthrough that allowed edible cups with flat bottoms and tapered sides to be produced. By this time though Italo had left London and moved to New York for greater opportunities. By 1896 Italo Marchiony had 40 push cart vendors selling ice cream in his edible containers; in 1903 he obtained a patent for a machine to manufacture the containers en mass.

Its from this point onwards the history of the ice cream cone and indeed Italo’s becomes blurred. In 1904 the Worlds Fair in St Louis, Missouri hosted more than 50 ice cream vendors and more than a dozen waffle stands, everyone claimed they had invented the now popular ice cream cone.

Fortunately with the discovery of the Crystal Tipped Unicone painting and Charles extensive notes we can finally declare Charles and Italo’s place in cone making history.

Countdown

We have just started to work on the Autumn/Winter Mission Impossimal magazine in anticipation of the new Impossimal releases next month. Its a jam packed issue with plenty of unseen Impossimals and articles not to mention the new limited editions and sculptures which will feature quite heavily in the issue. Its a labour of love put together in house; Jayne takes the photos, edits and proof reads whilst I handle the layouts and technical side of getting it from paper to screen, very much a shared task.

This is a chance to be featured in the next issue, we have already got a few collectors that we will be contacting but if you have a story to tell or would like to take part in an interview for the magazine or just have an idea for an article that you would like to see included let us know and we will see what we can do. We can be reached at impossimal@gmail.com and the deadline is the 22nd August, so don't delay!

After the monstrous thirty date Bloodline tour last year we have decided to trim it back a little this year and concentrate on just a small selection of appearances on the run up to Christmas with double date shows; that is shows that have not only Impossimals but also Jayne's fabulous ceramic and metal originals too.

Full details of all the latest appearances will appear online shortly with Meadowhall, Manchester, Bluewater, Derby, Solihull and a few others with already confirmed shows.

So with a little over three weeks until the official launch its full steam ahead at Impossimal HQ. We have plenty of fun lined up over the coming months and hopefully plenty to make you smile too!

00 Oh

By the age of five I was working undercover in the KGB as a double agent. It led to many an adventure, adventures I was quite capable of handling having trained in unarmed combat, weapon familiarity and advanced driving and bodyguard skills by the age of four.

On my sixth birthday my cover was blown when a three year old trainee agent forgot to remove his dummy during a secret rendezvous with the head of the secret police. Immediately they recognised the western branded Mothercare dummy rather than the jewel encrusted one made by luxury baby brand Suommo issued to all operatives to maintain a level of sophistication. In the ensuing gunfight I was forced to bundle the agent back into his armoured push chair and make good my escape.

It was not easy, they followed on all terrain Nipper Sports V3 push chairs in carnival red wielding twin Uzis and spraying bullets like a hosepipe. After taking two chairs out with baby bottles filled with wheel ripping spikes they switched to baby walkers with indestructible hard rubber castors. It made taking aim a little tricky for them but they were much faster than us and soon caught up. I disabled one walker after shooting out the metal locking pin on the from wheel, the walker came to a sudden stop and flipped twenty feet into the air and over the edge of a two hundred feet drop. It's occupants shouted 'Aieeeeeee!' as it descended and hit the floor exploding in a ball of fire. I took care of the remaining gun wielding baby walker with a sharp turn I knew he couldn't make on castors sending him careering into shop that sold kitchen knives. I think he got the point.

My cover blown I spent the next three weeks making my way back home to MI5 through the use of disguises. At one time I was a Bedouin Camel Trader, the next day a Travelling Salesman selling futons, it was hard but I made it back and was ready for my next assignment.

I was retrained for my next mission was to infiltrate a criminal organisation at the Moulin Rouge. For this mission I became a showgirl called Tally Ho, part of my routine was tassel twirling and kicking both my legs above my head at the same time. The hardest part was wearing the small thong and putting on the false eyelashes, pretty fiddly for a seven year old. It all ended horribly when my set of false breasts flew off during a vigorous pole dancing routine on stage and landed in the lap of the local criminal overlord, an eight year old with terrible temper tantrums who had terrorised the area for six long years. I wouldn't recommend running in heels, neither would I recommend tassels as they kept hitting me in the face as I escaped from the now empty top half of my tight fitting catsuit.

I returned to MI5 in a downbeat mood and debriefed 'K' on the whole sorry episode. Luckily I was issued with a new set of falsies, a wig and a new name Leggsy Akimbo. I had a second chance!

THIS HAS BEEN AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEW BOOK 'SHY SPY - PUSHCHAIR ESPIONAGE' BY PETER SMITH AKA TALLY HO AND LEGGSY AKIMBO. AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD BOOKSTORES FROM MONDAY PRICED £12.99.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Library Of Bored

In an age of limited attention spans I give you Five Second One Sentence Novels...

ROMANTIC, FIVE SECOND LOVES!

SCENT OF THE SEA

They met over the fish counter in Morrisons as she whispered seductively 'Fillet' to which he replied 'With pleasure' and they were married six weeks later before a fatal accident with a bacon slicer cut his young life short and devastated hers until she discovered a true love in the form of Doctor Smarmy a consultant in the Bacon Slicing Rehabilitation unit.

LOVERS IN THE COLD

Recovering from a bout of flu, Gemma spied the man of her dreams over her handkerchief whilst at the Chemist, a night of passion followed but Gordon contracted a fatal dose of flu and died a few days later whilst Gemma unable to ignore her guilt drinks herself into the arms of a friend who becomes her husband after a quirky twist of fate reveals him to be the man who she thought she had killed but he had been embarrassed about his night of passion and faked his own flu demise to find himself.

HORROR, FIVE SECOND FRIGHTS!

LURKER

The room was quiet until the whispering started, checking under the bed it continued, it was only when he turned around in his empty bed that he felt something next to him and the whispering changed to a scream as rotting fingers tore into his flesh.

THE CURSING

No matter how many times the light was switched on and off the childlike figure with no face and arms outstretched always stood in the corner when it was dark taunting him for past deeds.

SLAYLORS

He had been alone at the light house on the isolated Eagles Rock for three months before the storm of the century hit forcing him to retreat to the lowest floor when there was a knock on the cellar door below his feet.

SCI-FI, FIVE SECOND THRILLS!

TO HULL AND BACK

The cyborg demonstrated an intelligence not seen before as it replicated the powers of a superhero in the laboratory, unfortunately a glitch in its software went unnoticed and the resultant rampage levelled the city of Hull until the aliens landed and mankind discovered it had the perfect weapon already.

CRIME, FIVE SECOND CAPERS!

CRACKED

The safe unlocked just as planned and all three men stood transfixed, it was the first time this experienced game of safe crackers had seen anything like it, pure gold and palladium jewellery transfixed with the stone of Gemini, a diamond the size of a tennis ball, they all wanted it but only one would leave with it they all thought simultaneously as they drew their guns.

MYSTERY THRILLER, FIVE SECOND EDGE OF YOUR SEAT STUFF!

SHAMNESIA

She had no recollection of the dead body in the bathroom and the knife in her hand but the banging and shouting at the door drew her attention, she wanted to stay but knew she should run, with the only exit the window she dropped the six feet to the floor and climbed in the car, a glance in the mirror and she could see them starting to give chase, how was she going to prove her innocence or indeed was she innocent at all?

CHILDRENS, FIVE SECOND SWEETNESS!

THE PUZZLE-ME PRESENT

Peter opened the unexpected gift from his reclusive uncle only to find it was an empty box with the words 'ME-PUZZLE' attached to the gift tag, disappointed he placed his toy rabbit in the box only to be surprised when the box 'knocked' back, opening the lid very carefully he peered in and to his amazement saw his toy rabbit through a door at the bottom of the box so like every sensible child he climbed in to enjoy the fun.

EXPERIMENTAL NOVEL, FIVE SECOND CUTTING EDGE!

THE STRANGE SIGN

¥

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

I Phone

This little slip of paper I found trapped in the centre of a magazine from the early eighties, it's a relic from my first real job in an office. Basically nobody was trusted to remember things so we had these handy little pads to fill in everytime we took a phone call and these were then placed on a spike on the recipients table to be dealt with. They should have worked but it was regularly open to abuse, quite often you would find an unknown phone number to ring with some strange name. I once phoned Twycross Zoo and asked for a Mr G.Wraff much to the amusement of other office members.

Old style phone systems provided quite a rich source of humour for the prankster, I used to use a very small bit of paper to raise the receiver from the base so at a glance it was not being used. I could then dial another desk and carry on working, they would pick up the phone and I would slightly knock the phone to dislodge the paper and cut the call. Do this several times to different phones and pretty much the whole office didn't get much work done. Another favourite was to swap the receivers over on the bases when two phones were close together. When a call was received the wrong handset was used on the correct base unit, if they realised their mistake they put the receiver back cutting off the call and picked up the other one which was incorrect. Sometimes they would repeat this a few times before realising.

Coffee machines were also regulated with a special card that you received each month that gave you two drinks a day. Basically you went to the vending machine popped in your card and chose your drink, out came your card and out came your drink. The problem was that many of us in the office quickly realised that there was only enough drinks to last four weeks so in the last few days of a month you had to have made sure that you had reduced your intake to last the extra time.

Really it was a problem waiting for a solution, it took a bit of experimentation but I eventually found a way bypass the system. The card looked like a cardboard credit card complete with magnetic strip, on every drink purchase it pressed a small hole about 5mm from the bottom into the card, they were only small and they not very far apart but obviously formed part of the vending machine security.

I cut out three pieces of card of roughy the same thickness and sacrificed a brand new card by removing the magnetic strip and cutting it along its length into three. I placed these on the new cards making sure they were in the centre of where a real strip should be then filled in the gap either side using normal cassette tape. All the cards started with one small pinhole to help the machine count the rest so I placed the new card over the duplicates and carefully punched the first one. Two of the cards worked perfectly, the other unfortunately worked a few times until the magnetic strip came unstuck and decided to tell the machine to stop dispensing cups and continuously dispense coffee until dry, replacing the cups manually with used ones from the rubbish bin I managed to avert disaster and my clever card system came to a premature end.

Looking back I had quite a good time working in an office, we got plenty of work done too through all the pranking that went on, it all added to the atmosphere and was all done with good humour. Ahh, memories!

Anyway, I'm a little puzzled at the moment after downloading out of interest an app called Just Eat. I wanted to see just how many fast food places there was around us and just what they offered. The results were amazing, I can only assume that the places add their own menus and options as the sheer amount of mistakes is perfect blogging fodder. I came across Chickling & Chips, Stake And Kidney Pie and the amusingly titled Vegetarian Meat Pizza With Bacon. One place even specified that the salad contained two leaves of lettuce, a slice of onion and half a tomato and that the beef they use comes from genuine cows.

Here's another one that amused me slightly, it offered Pies but offered no selection of pies they sold anywhere on the menu. Instead it opened a comment box that simply said to type in the pie of your choice.

The Gnu and Moose pie I ordered was lovely, I'd also recommend the Armchair and Stool pie I ordered yesterday, it went perfectly well with my half of tomato salad.

Have a great Thursday :)

 

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Which Horse Are You?

Following on from the revelations that horses move their ears to detect predators recently on the BBC we would like to reveal that their hooves go clip clop and smell through their noses. In a bid to not be outdone we bring you an ear identification guide. Simply look in the mirror at your ears and match them up to the images below to find out which horse are you.

If your ears are pointy, you like wearing saddles, eating hay and understand the word giddy up then you are a Horse, either that or Sarah Jessica Parker.

If your ears are misaligned with a tendency to droop and you have a ruffled mane then your are PARTY HORSE, a heavy drinking, smoking, always up for a good blast you little raver. You never tire of your partying lifestyle and often trash your stable after a heavy night on the compressed grass pony nuts.

Touch your ears, if they feel like felt or a man made fibre and your are wearing a neckerchief then your are HOBBY HORSE and like nothing better than feeling a body on your back bouncing away. You have a tendency to drag your behind though leading people to believe you come from poor stock, deflect this comment by wearing a bell to distract attention and entertain your rider.

I'm sorry, if you look like this you are CHILDISH HORSE and unfortunately will never grow up. Your enjoyment in life comes from purile jokes and reliance on humour based around wee wee and trumps. I predict you will get nowhere in life and end up doing something vaguely arty and writing unfunny blog entries for attention.

A perfectly groomed mane, handsome looks means you are PEGASUS, the perfect horse with the added ability to fly and poop at the same time much to the astonishment of the people below as they get buried by a torrent of manure. Smug and self righteous you prance around on tip toes so much that other horses hate you and would love to mess up your perfectly groomed head. Watch your back Pegasus, look to other horses ears for signs of an impending attack.

Clueless and wondering why you are looking in the mirror because a blog told you so makes you BEMUSED HORSE. Quite often you are bemused by life in general but occasionally it really double sixes you with its rules and choices. Even paying a bill can be challenging weighing up between online, offline, banks, building societies, credit cards, cash, cheque or Post Offices which often causes mental blocks just as if your a character in the popular game The Sims and someone has just cancelled your action. Your favourite saying is 'I can't brain today I have the dumb' which pretty much sums up each and every day.

Wearing badly fitting clothes of assorted colour and sizes makes you CLOTHES HORSE. Your abysmal fashion sense is a constant source of amusement for friends and family which you try to pass off as having your own style. Your stiff limbs will be a problem later in life especially as you prefer standing still for long periods of time.

Now you know what horse you are you life will be richer and more fulfilled.

Probably.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Your Letters

AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT?

Dear Impossimal,

My wife insists that the Hovis advert music was taken from Symphony No. 9, in E Minor "From the New World" (Op. 95) by Dvorak but I think it was written by Adam Ant especially for the advert after enjoying Hovis for many years. My marriage is on the rocks because of this, please tell me I'm right.

Yours Reg Varney

* You are indeed correct Reg, Adam Ant wrote the song in a fit of pique after rivals Sunblessed threatened to air an advert combining the Shake'n'Vac song with a nice crusty farmhouse loaf cycling up a hill. Adam Ant was so enraged believing that Hovis was the only bread that should be consumed he spent six nights in a locked cubicle toilet with a twenty six piece orchestra until they came up with the song you nostalgically remember today.

THE THINGS KIDS SAY

Dear Impossimal,

My two-year-old found a spider in the garden and lo and behold spoke their first words. They wanted to know what the speed of light was relative to the speed of sound. I told them I didn't know to which they replied 'I knew you were this stupid, this is why I didn't speak to you for the first two years after I was born.'

Yours T.P.Charmin

* Kids eh? Can't live with them, can't live without constant mewlings regarding time and space theorem.

TIE ME UP

Dear Impossimal,

I am learning to tie my shoelaces can you recommend any good books or classes to help?

Yours D.Cameron

* Of course, you can always try Ken Dodds Diddy Guide To Shoemastery, the bible for shoelace aficionados. In this three hundred page hardback Ken takes you through the simple up and down through the loop system right up to the triple hangmans noose reefer knot. With special sections on making shoe polish from chocolate it covers all your shoe needs. Only £17.99 from all good shoe shops.

OVERHEARD ON A BUS

"Two to town please."

"That's £1.20 love."

"Thankyou."

THOUGHT OF THE DAY

"I wish I could sing." J.Bieber (Singer) (Sort of) (Maybe) (Kinda)

PUZZLE OF THE DAY

What is the next number in this sequence?

A, C, E, G, ?

CROSSWORD NO.627

Acehole.

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If you would like a question answered in this column you can contact us direct at Dept Readers Letters Filed Under Bin, The Daily Sun Mirror Mail, Bow Bells, Paddington, Trafalgar Square, Landan.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Off My Trolley

'I know' said I, 'Let's strip the wooden floor and distress stain it to match the new rug and cushions.'

'Err, ok' said Jayne cautiously, after all it was 1pm on a Sunday and we had no large sanding tools, no stain, no idea how to distress it and it's a large 25 square metre area to boot.

Fifteen minutes later we were at a large DIY store perusing wood stains and sanding equipment. For a large industrial floor sander and a corner sander we was looking at around £50-60 to hire, for fifteen pounds more we could buy our own professional heavy duty belt sander that we could keep so in the trolley it went. Next purchase was new skirting boards that we would match to the distressed floor and for that we needed a trolley that was made for carrying lengths of wood.

A massive DIY megastore so you would have thought it would have been easy to find a trolley for wood, you know the type; big tubular metal things that will take large sheets and lengths with ease that career uncontrollably into children and displays. Normally they are near the entrance or in the alley that contains the wood but today for some reason they had all disappeared.

I stood at the front entrance bemused, all that was left was the standard shopping trolley and we already had one of those. I went back inside and down to the wood section, tromping up and down each aisle looking for a suitable trolly. I found two, both being used by members of staff and both rammed full with wood already thwarting any attempt for me to surreptitiously remove the items and trundle one away. I returned back to the entrance via the plumbing department and noticed another suitable trolley, this time holding two toilets and several hundred metres of plastic drainpipe.

Outside a suitable trolley had returned only it had been commandeered by the gardening section and was being trundled away full of fencing and gravel. I threw myself infront of them to block their way and politely asked where I could get one from. 'Over there' he said pointing vaguely in the general direction of Europe which I assume meant go find one yourself you irritating little arse, can't you see I'm pretending to be busy. Following his bored gesture I went over to the trolley points in the car park, still no suitable trolley. Wait! There's one, I can just see it from here, somebody is returning one to the entrance!

I ran, ran like the wind I did only to watch the trolley be intercepted by another fellow shopper before I could get there.

Bugger.

This was getting silly so I decided to ask a member of staff if the could find one for me. Well, you would have thought I had urinated on their lunch. 'You want me to get a trolley for you?' they said followed by an expression that I can only describe as "Are you being serious? Find it yourself fatty." Reluctantly they accepted the challenge and off they went which left me and Jayne loitering near the entrance. About five minutes later the doors swished open and in came our suitable trolley and the assistant, he handed the trolley to a lady and walked passed me.

'Err, wasn't that for me?' I said

'Yes, she's with you, I gave her the trolley.'

'But she's not with me, she's with me!' I replied pointing to Jayne who then frowned at being called a she.

'I asked her if she was with a man and she said yes.'

'You're joking right? Do you normally ask completely open questions to random strangers? How did you think that was me?'

'I also asked if he was fat and going bald.'

'?!?'

So if you are looking to waste fifteen minutes of your life and enjoy receiving insults then I would like to recommend DIY stores on a Sunday afternoon. I did eventually find a trolley on my own at exactly the same time as the assistant found it.

'Here I have found one for you'

'No you haven't, I have just found it at the same time!'

'You're lucky, we only have five of them'

'Lucky is when you win the lottery or two chocolate bars drop out of a vending machine instead of one, tracking down a trolley for fifteen minutes like some bloody golden ticket does not make me lucky' I was going to add 'young man' at the end but that would have only made me sound old fashioned and possibly grannyish.

So that was part of my Sunday, there was a way lot more to tell but for now I'll leave it for another day and rush off to finish the floor.

Have a great trolley laden Monday!

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Bunnymania

Bunnyopolis is looking its best at the moment with its apple trees and veg bed coming on a treat as you can see from the picture above. Out and around Bunnyopolis a few more bunny and hare related items have snuck into our home taking the grand total to somewhere close to a hundred scattered throughout our house.

Our collection of hares and rabbits is not a collection of rabbit and hare related tat though, every item has been bought or placed for a reason. We have pieces going back thirty years that we can still remember why we bought them and for what occasion. I suppose they act as little markers of memories and it's quite comforting to have them around.

This new addition is a stone rabbit that Jayne had when she was a child, it remained in her mothers garden under a load of undergrowth until a few months ago when she dug it back out and relocated it back in Bunnyopolis. I actually quite like it when they have seen some wear, it adds oodles of character.

Another bunny that has joined us recently is this great hollow metal rabbit which now stands in our hallway, the first to greet visitors and certainly not the last although in this picture he seems to be inspecting our radiators. Although it's a garden ornament we didn't want him to rust away so kept him indoors instead.

Finally something we have been after for a while, a large stuffed felt rabbit head, not everyone's cup of tea I'd admit but it looks great hung in the kitchen and it matches the large stuffed felt stag we have on the landing. Ooo, that sounds a bit odd 'felt stag', dunno why it seemed strange typing that. Isn't it weird how some words seem to lose their meaning the more you say them whilst others don't. Toast for example will forever be toast no matter how many times you repeat them after each other but try repeating ecology hundreds of times and you will end up saying collogy and it will no longer make sense.

Or is that just me?

I'm rambling off on a tangent aren't I? Sorry about that.

So not much of a blog for Friday I know, the studio beckons this morning for both of us and whilst the weathers a bit cooler it's the ideal time to get stuck in.

Have a great weekend :)

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

10 PRINT "KNOB! ";

I replaced my ageing computer a few weeks ago after it decided that after receiving update number 63,542 from Microsoft that it's mere 2gb of ram was unsurprisingly not enough to run an already struggling Windows 7. It's served me well though, it was purchased in 2006 so I suppose eight years without any upgrades is quite good going. It did make me realise just how far everything has come in the last thirty three years that I have been involved with computers.

It all started with a Sinclair ZX-81, a 1k beast that had a tendency to overheat, had no sound and a screen resolution far smaller than an iPod nano. Oh, it only displayed black and white and shut the screen down if it had to think hard and use the FAST mode.

As you can see it was all rather chunky!

There was no digital downloads and very little in the way of games, everything had to either be loaded from cassette tapes or more often than not typed in on its small squidgy keyboard. 1k is not much memory, only 1024 characters long but surprisingly enough for some programmers to write a chess program, breakout games and even simple space invaders. Thus began my fascination with computers and in particular programming.

I started out simply and created small scrolling dodge games, basically you had to move a 'V' symbol left or right to avoid the advancing 'O's or as I described it at the time 'Pilot your spacecraft through an asteroid field'. Things soon started to gain momentum though when I purchased my next computer, the popular Sinclair ZX-Spectrum.

It changed the way I learned and fire my imagination as I started to write games. Pretty soon I was duplicating cassette tapes with several new games that I had created. 'The Road' a Frogger variant and 'Lazer Defence' was the first two which I tried to sell at Microfairs, I followed it up with a Maze / Snake game and several adventure games. From this I went on to purchase more computer systems, everything from Amstrad CPC's, BBC Model B, Acorn Atom, Vic-20, Atari 800, C64, Apple II and on and on through Atari ST, Commodore Amiga's and virtually every machine available learning as I went along. It was invaluable training although at the time it was just a nice pastime.

I wrote games and utilities on most of the machines, the long bit of paper at the top of the screen is a game called 'Crazy Millionaire' written if I remember correctly in STOS, an advanced graphic based language on the Atari ST. A massive undertaking that allowed you to live the flamboyant lifestyle of the rich and famous. I never did finish it even though it took me months to get to this stage.

Last night I sat at my new PC and just stared at its screen. It runs Windows 8 so instead of seeing a familiar desktop I was instead confronted with lots of colourful squares. Everything I used to tinker with had been politely hidden away. Don't get me wrong, it's nice, easy to use and far superior to what I was used to before but I can't help but feel technology in its quest to become so user friendy that it has taken away part of the process of understanding. From computers many years ago being switched on to a blank screen and a flashing cursor saying 'come on, think of something to do with me!' we now have computers that powered up give you a fancy display saying 'hi user, here's what you can do with me!', a subtle enough difference to change the way our brain operates with technology as another bit of our thinking processes gets taken away over time.

Never again will our children get the chance to pop into WHSmiths and saunter over to their computer display and press the 'BREAK' key to stop the demo on a ZX-81. It took then only moments to type...

NEW

10 PRINT "COCK! ";

20 GOTO 10

RUN

...and walk away knowing the absolute pleasure of your digital vandalism.

Yes, thirty three years of clandestine programming and endless hours learning a new language had enabled me to fill a television screen with COCK!'s in seconds, just think what I can do now!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Bricks

I don't mind shopping and will happily trot around with Mrs Smith on the rare occasions that I am allowed out and about. I don't mind dogs either but combine the two and well, it's like oil and water.

Dogs when out shopping get bored, you can see that on their faces as they look around for something more interesting to do. That something is invariably me. Dogs have a inbuilt part of their instinct that tells them to treat at me like some massive chew toy. It dosen't help that I am allergic to dog and cat hair so I never give them a customary stroke, this too irritates them beyond belief.

'Oh wow!' goes their brain, 'He a non-stroker that looks fun and chewy!' It shouts. 'Well he's never done that before!' goes the owner as they drag their dog off my lifeless body. Only last month we were both walking in the middle of the countryside when from around a corner came a dog owner, she bent down and unhooked the lead on a big drooling black Labrador expecting it to go for a little run as usual. No, it thought, I fancy a bit of meat on the bone it thought as it ran like a Exocet missile straight into my groin then stood woofing and snapping at my heels. 'Well he's never done that before!' came the same old, same old reply to which I wittily said 'Get him off me!'. My jeans were covered in dog spit and I smelt of tinned chum.

It's not just dogs that go berserk either, about four years ago we were walking along a beach when a horse rider came towards us. As it got closer the horse started to get a bit excited much to the distress of the rider, when it was really close it decided to show me it's teeth and try to trample my fragile body into the sand whilst whipping me with its tail. What is it? Am I transmitting some kind of obscene dog/horse messages? Or do I have a annoying face? Don't answer that.

Anyway, yesterday we were out shopping, I had already had the usual dog snarls and dogs purposely getting in my way trying to trip me up with their leads when I came across the worst possible dog for me, the shop dog.

Shop dogs are notoriously pliable in the hands of most customers but as soon as I step in they either follow me around sniffing, growl a little or purposely get in my way. This one decided to go full stretch at the top of a flight of stairs stopping me descending. No amount of pleading would get it to move, it was becoming most irritating as it just lay there looking back at me with 'make me move you non-stroker' eyes. The owner was preoccupied so I strolled over to look at some candles hoping dog would get bored and move along.

Nope.

Dog was obviously wise to this and merely stretched a little longer watching me with half closed eyes. I idled around as long as was acceptable and decided to brave the stairs. I don't like stepping over dogs especially when wearing shorts but really it was being a bit of a jerk hogging the top step. Holding on to the bannister I gingerly stretched over, I don't know if you have ever tried keeping one foot further back than the top step and the other foot trying to reach two steps down whilst holding on to both banisters, all I know is that it's bloody difficult and your lower bits dangle enticingly, not good when there's a set of teeth under them.

And then when I was half way over he got up, the little sod got up!

Like a badly scripted play with scenes straight out of a comedy series my life became a farce again as the bloody dog took advantage of my stretched position to lick my leg in one stroke from my ankle to my groin!

Do you know how disgusting that feels? Doing the splits on a staircase whilst a random dog gets off on licking your leg, I'm sure some people would pay good money for that the perverts.

Jayne laughed and stroked the dog.

'Don't you say good dog! Don't you dare!'

'I won't, what a clever boy!' Said Jayne then added 'See, I didn't say good dog at all.'

Walking out of the shop we crossed the road and entered a vintage shop, as I walked in I was hit in the head by a small wooden building brick from a kids toy. Three over excited wretches of children were throwing them at each other and screaming the place down. It seems I have the same effect on children as I have with dogs and horses.

And that is why I have rabbits.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Small Daniels Reveals All

My name is Small Daniels, you may know me from such television programs as the popular Small Daniels Magic Show and Blankety Blank. For many years me and my partner Webby McT have performed countless unexplainable illusions and sorcery but for the first time I am going to let you into all my secrets with a trick called The Mysterious Curious Disappearing Line Illusion, guaranteed to baffle young and old alike.

First get yourself a piece of card, any card will do even flattened out toilet roll tubes or cigarette packets. The dimentions can be varied too, I use the old 6'' x 1.5'' method but feel free to use more racy sizes such as 8'' x 2'' and even 6' x 3' for a large scale version that can be seen at the back do an auditorium.

Using construction lines carefully devide the paper into eleven equally distant dots, it's important you maintain accuracy at this stage as this is the 'magic' and failure to comply will cause serious injury to the performer or assistant.

Once the dots are completed draw eleven equal sized lines through the centre being careful to stop a consistent distance from the edges as shown above. When all lines are drawn slice the paper in two just hitting the top left line and the bottom right line as shown. This is the 'illusion'. With the 'magic' added and the 'illusion' prepared you are ready to 'wow' your 'audience'. Get used to the lingo, us magicians use it to sound mystical.

Select a member of your audience to step forward, it's best if your participant can count so ask them if they can before you commit then with the two pieces of your magical equipment placed as above ask them to count the lines.

1,2...11! They will gleefully shout, now comes the 'magic'

Using the art of distraction bring on a troupe of tigers, place them in cages and make the disappear. Place your assistant in a wooden box and carefully cut her in half before restoring her back to normal moments later and whilst you are doing this distraction use slight of hand to 'shift' the pieces of your 'conjuring illusion' into the positions shown above.

Get your participants attention and ask them to count the lines again. Miraculously 'as if by magic' there are now only ten! Take a bow and leave the stage job complete, congratulations you are a master 'illusionist'!

How does it work? It's all down to mathematical probabilities and the help of a 'plant' in the audience who subliminally pushes the figure ten into your participants head through subtle mind games. The 'illusion' you made plays on this brain trickery which is why the lines had to be accurate to alter brain wave patterns. Feel free to try this at home but not with cats, cats can see through the trickery and will claw you for your stupidity as this trick has been known to them for years.

I have been Small Daniels and you have been watching the mind of a genius, do not pass this secret on or I will chase you down and bite your ankles.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals