Bustin' Make's You Feel Good

CASE NUMBER 435 - DOUBLE TROUBLE

The first we knew of the event was when the Toastbusters hotline rang. A full soft white farmhouse slice apparition had appeared at an undisclosed location, they are terrifying at the best of times but this had a new twist, it was in the shape of Elvis. Witnesses say moments before they glimpsed a power cord snaking around the corner and feared it might be the beginnings of a Toastergiest infestation.

We climbed into Breville One, the official Toastbusters vehicle and loaded our biggest toasting fork and our toastergiest pack.

Specially developed our toastergiest pack contained everything needed for taking down bread based apparitions and Toastergiests. Tongs allows us to keep a safe distance, a wide spatula for crumb capture, a tomato shaped timer so we know when a toastergiest is about to burn and finally a small cheese knife. Actually that last item is just for us, we do like a bit of cheese and Toastbusting is hungry work indeed.

We arrived at the scene, a kitchen in a typical house but the evidence was quite clear, a white bread Elvis, classic Toastergiest grade one activity was still there. Carefully using the spatula we placed it in our click'n'lock lunchbox, specially created to hold sandwich spirits, although not many people know that and use them to keep food fresh, a waste really, they are precision storage units and must not be operated by untrained individuals.

Just then we heard a noise behind us...

A cup had mysteriously appeared on a nearby cupboard, it wasn't there moments ago, at least we don't think it was there, not that we really noticed as another noise made us turn back to where Elvis was found, amazingly our Toastergiest had another trick up its sleeve.

Tea cup lining or as we in the trade call it Teatoplasmic activity, a mild version of Parabiscuit activity. For it to show this amount of Toastergiest activity it must be close.

'There, it's here!, quick!' I yelled as the Toastergiest whipped around a corner. 'Get it before it disappears or worse starts Toastoplasmic Ejection!'

In hot pursuit we chased it up and down the stairs and readied our tongs for a full frontal assault. When all of a sudden it disappeared leaving behind a trail of untoasted medium white in its wake.

It obviously wanted us to follow. Slowly we crept around the house following the bread based path until we had found our way into the hallway. We heard a 'plink' and several white shapes flew past our heads missing by inches. 'Toastoplasmic ejection! watch out one of those things could cause a nasty scuff!' Squares of bread were now furiously flying at us from the lounge, one lethal looking Warburton half and half toastie cruised past at lightening speed taking out our cups of tea.

I stuck the camera around the corner and fired off a quick snap for the records, the Toastergiest was in full ejection activity.

Whipping its flex furiously slice after slice whistled through the air, how much more can we take? Using the spatula as a shield we decided to charge the Toastergiest, if we could jam the tongs in the toasting slots we would have a chance of disabling its defences, only then could we deal with it using our Hoovervax Dust Bag Cyclones, specially developed vacuum cleaners that when the streams are combined create enough suck to strip bark off a tree.

We rushed forward, tongs extended under the merciless assault of a thick crust battering.

It was a trap! Hidden behind the sofa was one of the most feared apparitions, a dreaded Binshee. With a terrible howl that we will never forget it disgorged its entire contents in our direction foiling our attempt and scaring the bejeebers out of us at the same time.

We didn't mean to run but let's be fair, would you want to tackle the fearsome combination of a Toastergiest and Binshee under an assault of crusties?

The case was closed the very next day when the occupant of the property decided they had had enough of Bakernormal activity and asked me not to disclose their location. So on that cheery note if you find a bread Elvis or suddenly find a cup in an odd place, beware, you coud have a Toastergiest.

You have been warned.

Don't have nightmares.

Balls Of Snow

Snow, you would never have guessed it would you but they have told us to expect a few inches this weekend but then again I have been promised that before and disappointed, you lot really do have dirty minds don't you? It's bought on a bit of a nostalgic streak as I really don't enjoy snow but every time I'm reminded of an episode many years ago from my school days when I sat looking out of the window during a particularly snowy break time.

I say looking, I was actually pressed up against the window mouth open agog at what I saw. A group of pupils rolling very large balls of snow into position at the base of a very large tallywhacker. It was enormous, well over seven feet high, the balls alone looked around three feet each and it was taking four to roll them because they were so heavy. Impressive. Not so impressive for the teacher who looked out of the window and foolishly decided to put an end to their snow erection. Out he went in his patent brown shoes, completely unsuitable for snow if you ask me, and the pupils scattered leaving teacher with no culprits to apprehend but a very large phallic object to deal with.

What did he do? Well he did the best thing he could, he launched into it with his shoes, kicking it and generally trying to destabilise it. The balls took some demolishing but the rest, after one kick too far, came tumbling down only to knock him over.

What did you do today at school? Well, we had English, Physics and I watched my maths teacher kick the hell out of a seven foot cock and balls before he got crushed by a snow penis. Really, you couldn't write it could you. Anyway, why am I telling you of this, ah, I remember. I hated snow at school.

As soon as a little snow fell you knew that as you moved between lessons and you had to venture outside to move between buildings some jolly fellow was either going to throw a snowball at you or stuff snow down the back of your neck. I dreaded it every year, this particular year was no exception, the snow had fallen heavily and I had already received my fair share of snow attacks. So gingerly I started to go to my next lesson seeing ahead that fellow pupils were being treated to a snowball barrage as they approached. One pupil in particular was absolutely loving it, pelting everybody into submission and beyond, even when they were curled up on the floor he carried on, not nice.

There are moments in your life that are pure beauty, moments that are so exquisite you recollect them later with a fondness, this is one such moment.

I approached cautiously using my bag as a shield, it didn't help much, snowballs ricocheted off my bag, trousers and the top of my head until one hit me squarely on the cheek. I don't know what happened but something inside me snapped, time seemed to slow down as all the anger started to focus my brain on defending myself. My bag became a shield and just like in the Matrix clarity abounded and effortlessly I started to deflect every snowball, not only that I started to approach the snow bully to which he turned and run to a safe distance. This angered me more so I dropped the bag and reached down to make the biggest snowball I could, I was going to hit him and hit him hard with a snowball packed with all the injustice he had served on my fellow pupils.

I rose back up holding my super snowball and took aim, I started to walk toward him too. Sensing something was amiss he dropped to his knees to gather enough snow to out snowball me. I took aim an threw it.

Actually I didn't, I slipped instead as I threw, the snowball instead of hitting my opponent sailed aimlessly high into the air as I fell backwards. From my horizontal position I lifted my head to see the bully laughing, still on his knees. A big hearty laugh that you know as a child will stay with you for the rest of your life.

Then it hit.

The snowball by some lucky fluke had managed to return to earth at a shattering speed to hit my assailant square in the booty box as he knelt on the ground. His laugh froze, his hands went to his crotch and he keeled over. Cue rapturous applause, standing ovations etc. Justice had been served.

I'd like to say that all was fine after that but due to my fortunate or unfortunate take down of said pupil I was reported for throwing snowballs, my bully however got off scot free apart from his bruised ego and nether regions, such is life.

Like I said, I hated snow at school but if you are a teacher and you are planning on kicking down any seven foot cock and balls today please for heavens sake wear sensible footwear.

Hoff Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

If like me you always have the perfect Christmas with perfect food, presents and me then you should give me a call, if not, all you other non-Hoffs can follow my handy guide to Christmas. Ho Ho Hoff and away we go!

Christmas dinner for the Hoff is a perfect plate on a perfect table in a perfect house in a perfect world, Hoff world, to save you from yourself here's a guide on what type of Christmas cook you are and how to avoid a un-Hoff Christmas disaster.

If your Christmas dinner looks like this then you are what I call a 'drowner'. Overcooked veg and limp slimy meat partially saved by a large Yorkshire pudding is then hidden under a Tsunami of gravy that has started to separate into fat around the edges. This is un-Hoffy, it should resemble my massively chiseled handsome features, stare at a picture of me until you understand the Hoff and try again or learn to cook Beef Stroganhoff.

If you serve this you are too Hoff to handle. Man, the beauty of waffles instead of potatoes and luncheon meat wrapped sausages and frozen mixed veg is Hoff the scale, well done, you can sit at my table any time. I might even show you my pocket Kitt.

Only the Hoff can serve de-constructed food because only the Hoff is awesome enough in the kitchen, in the dining room, in the bedroom, dang, I'm awesome everywhere don't hassle the Hoff with this bring me something Hoff the scale like a burger.

This is more like it, there is nothing more satisfying for the Hoff than settling down in my perfect body to chow down on a Pot Noodle and to finish off with a banhoffie pie. The ideal meal to share with your other Hoff on Christmas Day and whilst you dream about me as you eat your banhoffie pie you must listen to the Hoff and his special choice of music and gifts.

You can't get more Christmassy than this, listen to classics like All I Want For Christmas Is Hoff and The Hoffy And The Ivy sang by my friend Rico who helped me bring down the Berlin Wall, penned 'Freedom' with me and advised me to wear a jacket filled with Christmas lights many years ago.

Straight Hoff the peg is my special Christmas jumper to cover my superb muscular body, get ready to get Hoff on this girls, nobody fills a jumper like the Hoff.

Hoff the time spent in the kitchen this Christmas with my self propelled rolling pin, the perfect kitchen aid accompaniment whilst you drink a hot cup of Hoffee. 

The Hoff doesn't forget the little ones either, how about this attractive toy, it's only Hoff price at the moment an Hoffer you can't refuse.

As one final surprise I, the Hoff have allowed all my chest hair to be donated and turned into these attractive dog wigs. Sure enhoff they will be available shortly from my online store Hoffelujah.hoff, only one per customer. Wear the Hoff, feel the Hoff, worship the Hoff you know you want to, some like it Hoff.

Hoff yourself a very Merry Christmas, I'm logging Hoff but will return, you can't keep a good Hoff down.

Today's blog entry bought to you by the Hoff Outreach Foundation Family or HOFF for short. 

Bangers!

Launched today is a fifty two part magazine 'Big Bangers' revealing the secrets of successful sausage skills and taking you through the professional techniques needed to become a Master Banger. Over the course of the year your will learn how to create your own tasty sausage sizzlers using nothing more than offal, sawdust, herbs, a mangle, a piece of rubber tubing and balloons. Handy charts will allow you to identify a Cumberland from twenty feet whilst you will learn the difference between health and safety as you attempt to mix batches of lips, eyes and arseholes.

Amaze friends with your latest creation as they chow down on such delicacies as the 'eight incher', a sausage with a mighty girth filled with delicious tripe, astound family when you turn your kitchen into a portable butchery shop and save pounds as you learn how to turn road kill into tasty treats using bleach.

In the first issue receive this gift absolutely free!

A link of commemorative Linconshire sausages, ready to cook. (N.B. Issue must be purchased on day of release as free gift may go green). In issue two we start you on the road to being a sausage stallion with our second free gift of a pig intestine, collect issues three to forty two to get the whole pig. By issue fifty we will give you a chance to purchase a Big Banger glass fronted fridge freezer in which to display all your pig parts. (N.B. may require a nominal charge of £299)

Future issues include

How To Be A Bender, The Perfect Cumberland Shape

Bury Your Pork, Aging Sausages The Old Fasioned Way

Push Or Pull? The Perils Of Sausage Stuffing

How To Bang Her, Adding Spice To Your Favourite Sausage

Size Has Nothing To Do With It, A Guide To Ramming Your Sausages With Taste

It'll Scrub Out, Cleaning Up your Kitchen After Butchery

Are You A Mincer?, Grinding Up The Correct Gristle

Using or step-by-step system we teach you how to smoke your sausages, pretty soon you will have a packet of twenty Pigerettes that you can share with friends. You will also learn how to roll your own Pigars for the ultimate in luxury.

Accurate photos guide you through stuffing your horn hole to pump up your bangers, how to hand crank all night and how to 'go naked' at sausage parties using man made casings. Finally in issue fifty two we have handy hints on wrapping your sausage for the perfect home made Christmas gift.

All this an more at the starting price of £4 for issue one! (N.B. Normal retail price after issue one is £9.99)

From your local newsagent NOW!

Also look out for our companion magazines, 'Loo Zoo', over forty two issues turn your lavatory into a petting zoo and 'Ape Shape', become a professional monkey barber, first issue includes Chimp Scissors!

Peter Picked A Pickled Pencil

Pencils whilst quite useful for drawing, easing our ear wax, nostril cleaning and probing foreign objects that look decidedly unappetising they can also provide hours of amusement in other ways. Maybe 'hours' was stretching it but a few minutes diversion at the very least. Lets start with a jape, tell your friend or colleague that your pencil has been specially developed to write any colour, ask which colour they prefer to see your pencil write.

Voila! The miracle pencil that mysteriously can write any colour! You can add variants to this such as my pencil can write exactly like a pen, after disbelief from your friends simply write 'exactly like a pen'. I'm sure you can come up with many, many more and keep yourself and onlookers amused in post office queues, banks and when signing your name on important documents like last wills and testaments. One for the brave though is announce to a random stranger that you can draw their portrait in five seconds, wait for them to finish saying "no you can't" and "go on then" then simply draw a school cock. Be prepared to run after this pencil jape as most strangers may not see the funny side even though the portrait may be accurate.

Don't you hate it when this happens? Well make the best of a bad job by following this little tutorial 'The Rubber Wrecker'. This one involves a bit of work but it can be left as a joke mine, one to go off unexpected a little later. Simply take the broken lead and put it to one side and find a pencil, preferably someone else's, with a small rubber on the end.

Using a compass point or something sharp (watch your fingers!) poke the rubber it make a small hole.

Carefully insert the piece of lead you saved until you cannot see it then wet the rubber end and rub lightly on a piece of cloth to clean it up. Place the pencil somewhere it will be used.

Then laugh uncontrollably as any attempt to erase causes mayhem. Imagine the fun as your boss takes notes in a meeting only to have his work ruined, hilarious I'm sure. As you can see I have run out of ideas today and possibly if you followed my advice you have got the sack too.

It's never a good idea to do a five second portrait of your boss.

Or maybe it is.

'The Dark Side' - One Man's Story Of A Broken Toaster

Blackpool 1975, taken with an instant Polaroid camera by an unknown person at our guest house, which if I remember correctly was run by a very strict lady who placed us on the top floor in the attic and had to share a bathroom with all the other occupants, still, Blackpool in the 70's was the only place in the UK to visit Ripleys Believe It Or Not and sneak into the anatomical exhibition at the waxworks. Today's blog is not about Blackpool or even about the seaside, it's actually about something completely different but related...

1977, the Summer of Star Wars promised a lot to a ten year old. Hover cars, light sabres, black leather suits with restrictive breathing equipment and of course holograms of distressed princesses. So imagine my delight when at the end of 1978 I attended a special University Christmas lecture whilst I was studying the thermal dynamics of space time continuum technology during the Viking period, actually that's not quite true, it was the Roman period.

During the lecture the professor said he had a surprise for us and mentioned Star Wars sending the juvenile audience into mock lightsabre fights and wookie calls. What would it be? A blaster? Maybe he was going to ask us all to take shots at him whilst he deflected them with a real lightsabre, or even better he was going to give us all free R2D2's to take home. Expectations were high I can tell you.

When he left the theatre to fetch his Star Wars prop the lights dimmed, they even played a bit of the music to build it up, not that we needed it. 200 expectant eleven year olds plunged in darkness to the music of Star Wars was probably a bit of a mistake in hindsight as all 200 decided under the cover of darkness to try and occupy just the front row of seats.

A single spot light came on and the professor returned with something hidden under a cloth, as the music ended he pulled the cloth away and we were all left speechless looking at a box with an apple in it. I really don't know how he didn't get beaten to a pulp within seconds but he obviously expected this so did something rather unexpected, he told a member of the audience to take the apple.

Of course they couldn't even though it was before their very eyes, it was after all a hologram. Holograms had been around a while but this was the first ever experience for most people outside of a lab. Of course you now see them everywhere, on credit cards, toys etc but to a eleven year old in 1978 it was futuristic technology. After being wowed with the hologram we were then treated to a laser display and an old theatre trick of creating a ghost on stage using an angled piece of glass and a mirror. Fascinating stuff to me once I had got over the disappointment of not being able to have a personal light sabre and to hack off limbs at a whim.

Holograms stuck with me, the ability using lasers to capture an image in 3D on a 2D material was mindblowing, so imagine my surprise when in 1984 I found myself again, and god knows why, in Blackpool stood outside a new attraction, a hologram exhibition. Well, I was amazed, hundreds of holograms to look and be astounded by, even better though you could buy your own. So, this was my first, a very small hologram of a dartboard and two darts, stunningly realistic if you don't see colours like a dog otherwise slightly entertaining, but I wanted more so my next purchase was more exciting.

A coloured hologram, the detail on this is quite incredible, you can even see the air bubbles in the plastic and moving it around you get a real sense of space. And that's where it stops, in todays world of entertainment at your fingertips, movies on demand, 3D television, microwave meals and spray on cheese, holograms have become rather forgotten and mainstream but they offered at the time a hope that one day you would own your own light sabre and be allowed to hack limbs off willy-nilly. I patiently wait.

I even have a list.

Close Encounters Of The Twerking Kind

Today I have invited Arthur Brain founder of the Bureau Understanding Foreign Flight Objects Of Non-terrestrial Subjects or BUFFOONS for short to tell us about his latest extra-testicle phenomenon. So Arthur, just what is a UFO?

'UFO's are unidentified frying objects, such as burnt bacon or frazzled sausages mysteriously flying through the air. We have some particularly good examples of fritters flying in formation over Big Ben. One of our members once photographed a scorched beef burger landing in the car park of Asda, passersby were astounded and two women fainted as it was joined by a hash brown and an overcooked chippolata.'

Ahem, we may have crossed purposes here Arthur, I was talking about the alien type of UFO, you know the ones that look like light fittings or dustbin lids thrown in to the air and photographed badly.

'I thought you invited me to talk about my close encounter with a full English breakfast that cornered me on the sea front in Skegness?'

No Arthur.

'Oh, that's a pity. I did see a UFO once though?'

Yes? tell us about it.

It was about six o'clock sometime in the seventies and I was watching the television when suddenly everything went black, even the television only to be replaced by a mysterious globe spinning ominously with the words BBC 1 written underneath it, I remember it clearly as I nearly dropped my biscuit in my tea. It was only on for an instant then the screen went black again and a booming voice shouted SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER and an enormous UFO flew straight at me. I dropped scalding tea on my lap and fell off the sofa, Muriel, my wife screamed and ran from the room. Scrambling around the back of the sofa I lay there for thirty minutes listening to the aliens in my living room, I could only make out certain words like Scottiekirk and Spork but I'm sure they did say 'We Come In Peace' but that I believe was just a ruse to get me to come up from behind the curtain where I had managed to scramble to after my sofa position became compromised. Here, let me draw you what I saw...'

'See, a UFO, not very often you get such detail in a drawing, I was a draughtsman did you know so I know detail. In fact I was so shaken that the very next day armed with a camera I was determined to capture them on film. Around midday I was making a jam sandwich when I glanced out of the window and froze, there hanging in the air was an enormous cigar shaped UFO, watching me spread the butter. Grabbing my camera I managed to get a quick shot of it before it whooshed away. I have never shown this to anyone before as I believe it would change the worlds opinions on UFOs for ever.'

Well readers it looks like we have an exclusive on our hands, for the first time in print a genuine certified UFO photo, unedited and possibly the finest UFO ever captured on film.

Wow! That's amazing Arthur, it's like just hanging there. You can even make out some markings on the side, it looks like eiprahS, obviously some strange star dialect. What happened next?

'I finished buttering and ate my sandwich.'

No, what happened after that?

'Oh, I see, well here's the thing, I returned to the sitting room and flicked on the television to see if the news had reported my mysterious object and guess what?'

What?

'Aliens had taken over my television again.'

Really? How did you know?

They looked strange and pink if I remember and they spoke in a kind of whistle. I was mesmerised, they had me under some kind of tractor ray beam and I watched them experimenting with things from our world then as suddenly as they came they disappeared and the newsreader Richard Baker came on but didn't mention my flying cigar shaped object or indeed my pink aliens. Here, give me the pen I will draw one for you...'

Double wow! You heard it here first folks, aliens and UFO's do exist, watch the skies!

Tomorrow we explore the mysteries of the deep with Jaques Custardo and hear the frightening story of the time he wrestled with the Loch Ness Monster only to have the fight broken up by an underwater Kraken. Epic stuff I'm sure.

Xmas Crimble Yuletide Advert Time For Sentimentality

Crimbo Cats Festive Survey

Chrismastide, Noel, nativity, call it what you will Christmas is here to stay along with all the latest nostalgic tear jerking adverts so we asked members of the celebrity obsessed public to tell us what their best Christmas spelling is and these are the results.

"I fink it means to me everyfing is shiny and like that's why I call it Crimble time. It's the stuff of jeezus and Maori wid da likkle donkey in da shed, innit? I mean if day r gunna ave it evry year why don't they tell us? This fanta bloke is ace but I don't know wat a chimney is. Is it like a long chin?" said a typical yoof yesterday.

"My dear I think you will find its actually Yuletide, Christmas is so common and don't even get me started with Xmas. Xmas is so, so, Peter Smith, he's as common as they come you know. Yuletide felicitations to you all!"

A.N.Arsehole, Notts

"I like Xmas, it's like a quick way to write and is a real boon when writing Christmas cards. Of course it sounds as if you couldn't be bothered and yes it may come across as lazy but hey, it's Xmas, were all in misery so get over it." 

Mr Crimble Claus, N.Pole

"Personally I prefer the season of Noel when we celebrate all things about that plumb bearded chap Noel Edmunds. I remember his Noel Edmunds House Party, the one with Mr Blobby, oh, he was such a great character. A great big pink thing with spots, or was that something I went to the doctors with? I dunno, anyway Noel is great and my first choice at this time of year."

N.Edmunds, Crinkly Bottom.

"I was always taught that it was pronounced Chrissymissymussytime to go along with the seasons, after all what else would go with Winterfrinterchillywilly and Bonfireywiry Night?"

That bloke off the television that makes rude phonecalls and gets let off to make millions of pounds more.

"Wibble poot, floooomffhh, pop, pop, booomph."

Po.

"Mr name is Noddy Holder and I like to call this time of year 'ker-ching!!' after the sound my royalty cheque makes at the bank after 'Merry Christmas Everybody' has been played 1,253,273 times."

Mr N.Holder 1976

"My name is Mariah and this Christmas I fancy something different to you."

Mariah Couldn't Carey, Hull

"My name is George Michael and I want my heart back even though you tore it apart."

George "It's not the only thing you tore" Michael

"Quite frankly I wish it could be Christmas every day" said Roy Wood.

"Really I hate Christmas, my name is Mary Berry and I often get confused with Merry. That sponge dear is over baked, what do you think Paul?"

"I think it's an ok bake Mary, not one of their best. Did you prove the dough correctly before putting it in the oven Cliff?"

"Hey Mary, you're a Livin' Doll want to go on a Summer Holiday and get away from all this Mistletoe and Wine?"

We had to cut our survey short as we started to be surrounded by ex-Christmas song celebrities and it was blocking the doorway to Greggs, more results tomorrow when we ask Showadywady and The Bay City Rollers what they really think of striped curtains in a bedroom.