Ba…Ba…Ba…BINGOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
As sure a bunch of nuns will have revolting habits, you can guarantee that the hold up in your lunchtime queue will be an old lady who insists on paying with the exact change. We’re not being ageist, just stating an observed fact.
“No lovey” she’ll explain “I’ve got one in here somewhere” as she rummages around her suitcase of a handbag looking for a stray penny that may have been dislodge from it chamber. Time rolls by and a further five minutes of your lunchtime gets eaten up before she finally decides she hasn’t got a penny and asks if she can pay by cheque. “Now, what did I do with my pen…I’ve got one in here somewhere” … and it all starts again.
In fact, old ladies are the real reason for the demise of the utilisation of cheque payment pleasure. I love nothing more than stroking out my words in an elegant fountain pen manner, my feathered quill dancing on the paper like Justin Bieber on a hen party, but alas my pleasure has been stunted.
However, if you follow that old lady home, loiter outside her house until the evening and then follow her all the way to the local bingo hall, then my friend, then you will see a totally differ lady.
A lady with a love of speed! Then her bingo pen will be dancing like Justin Bieber on a hen party, whilst you will be rummaging around in your handbag looking for that penny. The transformation is amazing…
So the next time you need lunch…go to your bingo hall.
Friday, 1 July 2011
Pi or Tau?
To pi or not 2 pi, that is the question
There’s been a lot of debate recently regarding the use of pi and whether it should be replaced forthwith by Tau. So, for those unaware… Pi = 3.14 whereas Tau = 6.28.
You may be reading this and thinking why do I give a showman’s holiday in Turkey about pi vs tau and you could be right, but that hasn’t stop thousands of you asking where the wiggy wigsters stand on this subject.
Well this is wiggy wigsters initial response, as published in May 1982.
“pi vs tau is a lot like pints verse gallons…we have no interest in commenting on related measures. Why not ask us something more useful like whether we prefer a British or American sized pint? BTW has to be British as it’s bigger!”
So because you keep begging us, we’ve reviewed our 1982 directive and sought out some research.
In a recent survey of 135.8 adults in Doncaster, Newcastle and Northampton, 94% said they preferred pi over tau. However, the same survey noted that 78% of those surveyed thought tau was a type of Chinese dumpling!
The pro tau camp, which from evidence obtained under the 1852 act of general nosiness, seems to be located in Cornwall. This band of merry men appears to also be pro radians and full circles. As a consequence they are also anti pi, degrees and semi-circles.
So where does this leave the wiggy wigsters? Well pi vs tau is just labelling the pigeon as far as we’re concerned. We are however, like the tau camp, willing to declare our hatred for the semi-circle, which has for far too long been favoured over the semi-square*, which should not be confused with its cousin the rectangle. Semi-square is far more elusive and often likes to ramble about the countryside on Sunday afternoons wearing a straw boater and corduroy trousers. On the pints issue, well we still prefer our British pint over the Queen Anne Pint that the American’s utilise. Much more fluid from your buck!
* You can purchase a “I’m pro semi-square” T-Shirt from all semi decent bookshops and even a few shoddy ones too.
There’s been a lot of debate recently regarding the use of pi and whether it should be replaced forthwith by Tau. So, for those unaware… Pi = 3.14 whereas Tau = 6.28.
You may be reading this and thinking why do I give a showman’s holiday in Turkey about pi vs tau and you could be right, but that hasn’t stop thousands of you asking where the wiggy wigsters stand on this subject.
Well this is wiggy wigsters initial response, as published in May 1982.
“pi vs tau is a lot like pints verse gallons…we have no interest in commenting on related measures. Why not ask us something more useful like whether we prefer a British or American sized pint? BTW has to be British as it’s bigger!”
So because you keep begging us, we’ve reviewed our 1982 directive and sought out some research.
In a recent survey of 135.8 adults in Doncaster, Newcastle and Northampton, 94% said they preferred pi over tau. However, the same survey noted that 78% of those surveyed thought tau was a type of Chinese dumpling!
The pro tau camp, which from evidence obtained under the 1852 act of general nosiness, seems to be located in Cornwall. This band of merry men appears to also be pro radians and full circles. As a consequence they are also anti pi, degrees and semi-circles.
So where does this leave the wiggy wigsters? Well pi vs tau is just labelling the pigeon as far as we’re concerned. We are however, like the tau camp, willing to declare our hatred for the semi-circle, which has for far too long been favoured over the semi-square*, which should not be confused with its cousin the rectangle. Semi-square is far more elusive and often likes to ramble about the countryside on Sunday afternoons wearing a straw boater and corduroy trousers. On the pints issue, well we still prefer our British pint over the Queen Anne Pint that the American’s utilise. Much more fluid from your buck!
* You can purchase a “I’m pro semi-square” T-Shirt from all semi decent bookshops and even a few shoddy ones too.
The Thought of Today
Today's thought
If a bald man wears a hat all day, should it be considered a wig?
If a bald man wears a hat all day, should it be considered a wig?
Facebook Status
Are you bored with your normal Facebook status?
Do you long for an interesting status, but lack the mental capacity to invent your own?
Do your friends often ignore your Facebook updates?
Do you feel unloved and in need of attention?
Are you tired of having to buy a new car, buy a puppy or drop a kid before they’ll comment?
Then why not follow our prescription for Facebook status’… post one a day in the following order:
“…is punctuating the unstoppable sentence”
“…is bouncing a bag of oranges inside a balloon”
“…is a preventing enthusiastic vineyard overrunning the highways”
“…is sanding down the square peg until it’s too small for the hole”
“…is purchasing a new tent to live under the stairs in”
“…is positioned to fluctuate with the feather”
“…is perplexed by the accountability of penguins”
“…is frantically Goggling for enfettering sandwiches”
“…is skimming a scotch pancake across the loch”
“…is lightening the Jurassic pledge”
“…is carrying the nomadic preposition until it’s disqualified”
“…is using a pogo stick to pick high hanging fruit”
“…is generating concoctions to wash away the tea cups”
“…is suppressing the megalomaniac tendency in the ant community”
“…is considering Mr Dyas’ parasol”
“…is admiring the visual monstrosity of mud flaps”
“…is trapped in time between separate night vision”
“…is watching the radio as there’s nothing on the fridge”
“…is perplexed at the interest rate on a club biscuit”
“…is putting a ritz cracker in the telephone booth”
“…has be overrun by megalomaniac ants”
“…is singing until the light bulb changes its beliefs”
“…is infected with a one time itch”
“…is beginning to believe what he reads in the papers is all black and white”
“…has opened a coconut shaving and grating factory”
“…is reviewing the theory of opportunistic column snatching”
“…is condensing a boiled sweet”
“…is facilitating the memorandum of generational hair gain”
“…is mingling with the monster munch”
“…has yet to find a bald man who has never eaten a banana”
“…has a new plan for the megalomania ants”
“…is calmer now the apple tree is indoors”
“…is calculating the time the aliens have before the megalomaniac ants get them”
“…is running away from the invisible man”
“…is illuminating the cress as it grows sideways”
“…is sticking moss on the rolling stones”
“…is bouncing a sponge pudding in custard”
“…is weighing a pound of pears and a pair of pounds”
“…is washing the pavement before bedtime”
“…is listening to a tree fall in an empty forest”
“…is repulsed by the smell of cheesy wotzits on his pet dingo’s paws”
“…is struggling to find the right size bottle brush”
Do you long for an interesting status, but lack the mental capacity to invent your own?
Do your friends often ignore your Facebook updates?
Do you feel unloved and in need of attention?
Are you tired of having to buy a new car, buy a puppy or drop a kid before they’ll comment?
Then why not follow our prescription for Facebook status’… post one a day in the following order:
“…is punctuating the unstoppable sentence”
“…is bouncing a bag of oranges inside a balloon”
“…is a preventing enthusiastic vineyard overrunning the highways”
“…is sanding down the square peg until it’s too small for the hole”
“…is purchasing a new tent to live under the stairs in”
“…is positioned to fluctuate with the feather”
“…is perplexed by the accountability of penguins”
“…is frantically Goggling for enfettering sandwiches”
“…is skimming a scotch pancake across the loch”
“…is lightening the Jurassic pledge”
“…is carrying the nomadic preposition until it’s disqualified”
“…is using a pogo stick to pick high hanging fruit”
“…is generating concoctions to wash away the tea cups”
“…is suppressing the megalomaniac tendency in the ant community”
“…is considering Mr Dyas’ parasol”
“…is admiring the visual monstrosity of mud flaps”
“…is trapped in time between separate night vision”
“…is watching the radio as there’s nothing on the fridge”
“…is perplexed at the interest rate on a club biscuit”
“…is putting a ritz cracker in the telephone booth”
“…has be overrun by megalomaniac ants”
“…is singing until the light bulb changes its beliefs”
“…is infected with a one time itch”
“…is beginning to believe what he reads in the papers is all black and white”
“…has opened a coconut shaving and grating factory”
“…is reviewing the theory of opportunistic column snatching”
“…is condensing a boiled sweet”
“…is facilitating the memorandum of generational hair gain”
“…is mingling with the monster munch”
“…has yet to find a bald man who has never eaten a banana”
“…has a new plan for the megalomania ants”
“…is calmer now the apple tree is indoors”
“…is calculating the time the aliens have before the megalomaniac ants get them”
“…is running away from the invisible man”
“…is illuminating the cress as it grows sideways”
“…is sticking moss on the rolling stones”
“…is bouncing a sponge pudding in custard”
“…is weighing a pound of pears and a pair of pounds”
“…is washing the pavement before bedtime”
“…is listening to a tree fall in an empty forest”
“…is repulsed by the smell of cheesy wotzits on his pet dingo’s paws”
“…is struggling to find the right size bottle brush”
Shortest Known Recording
Act 1761, Scene 1
Using the right to be nosy act of 1761, the wiggy wigsters have managed to obtain a script from the locked drawer of a local playwright who needs no introduction (Ed - We don’t actually know his name and felt it was better to say that than risk embarrassment), which we believe to be the shortest play in the world. For your enjoyment we present for the first time “Ding-Dong”
{Curtain opens}
[Doorbell goes Ding-Dong]
[Geoff opens door]
[Gunshot noise – Geoff falls to the floor]
{Curtain closes}
“Ding-Dong” will be showing at the Mingle in the Dingle theatre in September. For tickets please search the internet for “Mingle in the Dingle Ding Dong” using your preferred internet search method.
My preferred internet search method is as follows:
Open Browser, go to Google (if not home page). Starting with my left hand, I type “mingle”, then switch to right hand, I type “ dingle” and then free style the rest. I then sometimes like to close the browser and repeat the entire process several times.
Tickets are priced at £25 for a child, £40 for an adult and £70 for a twin with sea view.
Using the right to be nosy act of 1761, the wiggy wigsters have managed to obtain a script from the locked drawer of a local playwright who needs no introduction (Ed - We don’t actually know his name and felt it was better to say that than risk embarrassment), which we believe to be the shortest play in the world. For your enjoyment we present for the first time “Ding-Dong”
{Curtain opens}
[Doorbell goes Ding-Dong]
[Geoff opens door]
[Gunshot noise – Geoff falls to the floor]
{Curtain closes}
“Ding-Dong” will be showing at the Mingle in the Dingle theatre in September. For tickets please search the internet for “Mingle in the Dingle Ding Dong” using your preferred internet search method.
My preferred internet search method is as follows:
Open Browser, go to Google (if not home page). Starting with my left hand, I type “mingle”, then switch to right hand, I type “ dingle” and then free style the rest. I then sometimes like to close the browser and repeat the entire process several times.
Tickets are priced at £25 for a child, £40 for an adult and £70 for a twin with sea view.
Book Idea for all aspiring writers
Stop the perspiration, here comes the inspiration
If there are any aspiring writers who have been perspiring for inspiration for their next book, then I would like to see the following book published.
Title: Dummies for Intellectual People
Contents: A book that teaches intellectual people (like you and I naturally) everything they need to know about “dummies” or stupid people as we often call them. Maybe the book could teach some basic language skill and guide for how to communicate with them. Maybe their interests, diet, daily routine, etc...
Please comment when this book has been written and we’ll let you know where to send the cheque and free copy to. After all it was our idea!
If there are any aspiring writers who have been perspiring for inspiration for their next book, then I would like to see the following book published.
Title: Dummies for Intellectual People
Contents: A book that teaches intellectual people (like you and I naturally) everything they need to know about “dummies” or stupid people as we often call them. Maybe the book could teach some basic language skill and guide for how to communicate with them. Maybe their interests, diet, daily routine, etc...
Please comment when this book has been written and we’ll let you know where to send the cheque and free copy to. After all it was our idea!
Blog Profiles #1
TGC
You know, not a day goes by without a random stranger (for arguments sake lets call him Hubert Flannellalel) approaching me in the street, park, beach, woods, hedgerow or alleyway and begging me to reveal the gossip, hidden secrets and facts about my fellow wiggy wigster bloggers. I often say that we as individuals are publicity shy, but this gave me the idea to cash in and blog their profiles.
Top of your most wanted list, apart from myself of course, is our very own Grey Cardigan, or as they call him in America the Gray Cardigan.
So here, live and exclusive, without further delay, hesitation, faltering, dilly-dallying, shilly-shallying, twaddle-tapping, hold-ups or scripted dawdling is the Grey Cardi’s profile, revealed to you for the first time ever.
Grey had a lonely childhood, born as the only child of the Black Pullover and the White Twin Set, he soon set off on his path of adventure.
By the age of three he was the youngest British holder of a licence to sell alcoholic beverage and made a fortune offering cheap booze to festival and concert revellers. The following summer, his luck turned, as profits dipped as the novelty of buying booze from a minor faded. Grey squandered his fortune on Sherbet Dabs and Flying Saucers and eventually lost his drinks licence at the age of five whilst attempting to sell apple juicy as whisky.
Ten days after losing his license to serve, Grey was rushed to hospital with a suspected Sherbet Dab overdose. It was as he lay on that hospital bed, with the stomach pumping machine whooshing in the background that he made his peace with the world and promised to turn his life around.
The following Monday he announced he was the love child of Bobby Moore and spent the summer appearing on all the gossip and chat show. He became a household face in Norfolk after appearing in a tourism advert for the Norfolk broads. To this day he’s still recognised and often gets free drinks and meals on day trips to Wroxham for simply say “Nooo folk like Norfolk”.
At the age of 21, he fled England’s white cliffs to spend the next three years living in Egypt, where he pretended to be a top archaeology graduate from Oxford called Nigel Lemons. Several years of wearing thin cotton shirts and a casual jumper over the shoulders followed. Just when a blossoming career was imminent, Grey (or Lemons) was caught up in an ancient artefacts theft shambles. Months later Grey was back in England and with the “Lemons Shamans” chant still ringing in his ears, he found himself once again back on the Sherbet Dabs.
It was at this point he was recruited in to the fellowship of the wig. “It turned my life around, made me a new man” He enthused in a recent interview in The Blog about Bloggers.
Faced with this new energy for life he married a centre fold playboy model called Sandy Willowstrap, invented the extra large cotton bud for the Mr and Mrs Big market, became the first person to bunny hop from Basingstoke to Salisbury, wrote the first backwards written novel and contributed hundreds of blog articles up until nearly 4 years ago, when he suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.
Throughout all of his life Grey has struggled with his adverse fear of all pointy objects (parsnips, carrots, umbrellas, pens, pencils and knitting needles, to mention a few). His fear is so extreme that even hearing the word “pointy” results in an instant panic attack, which is only cured by running in bare feet until his palpitations stop.
His worst attack came during a lunchtime visit to Sainsbury’s when an old lady approached him to question the firmness of a parsnip and asked whether it would still be of use in a soup. He instantly took flight, sprinting out of the shop with the old lady following him waving the parsnip all the way, persistently shouting out “Will this parsnip be any good for my soup?” The energetic chase lasted 3 years 294 days 21 hours 36 minutes and 5 seconds and only ended when the old lady accidentally tripped over a paving slab in Inverness, losing her grip on the troublesome parsnip. It was at this point (he-he!!!) that the persistent Sainsbury’s security guard, who had been following the old lady as she followed Grey, arrested her for shop lifting the parsnips. That old lady is now serving time for her crime.
However, it was not all bad news as Grey was recognised by Guinness as the World Record holder for the longest time running whilst being chased by a lady waving a parsnip. Many have tried to break his record, but the same number have failed.
Grey, now recovered from his parsnip pain, has relocated to the Isle of Thanet, which isn’t actually an island but part of the mainland, to write a book entitled “The Parsnip Diaries”. He also spends his evenings attempting to recreate his grandmother’s Cucumber Chutney recipe. Of course, he insists his local green grocer removes the cucumber “points” before delivery.
You know, not a day goes by without a random stranger (for arguments sake lets call him Hubert Flannellalel) approaching me in the street, park, beach, woods, hedgerow or alleyway and begging me to reveal the gossip, hidden secrets and facts about my fellow wiggy wigster bloggers. I often say that we as individuals are publicity shy, but this gave me the idea to cash in and blog their profiles.
Top of your most wanted list, apart from myself of course, is our very own Grey Cardigan, or as they call him in America the Gray Cardigan.
So here, live and exclusive, without further delay, hesitation, faltering, dilly-dallying, shilly-shallying, twaddle-tapping, hold-ups or scripted dawdling is the Grey Cardi’s profile, revealed to you for the first time ever.
Grey had a lonely childhood, born as the only child of the Black Pullover and the White Twin Set, he soon set off on his path of adventure.
By the age of three he was the youngest British holder of a licence to sell alcoholic beverage and made a fortune offering cheap booze to festival and concert revellers. The following summer, his luck turned, as profits dipped as the novelty of buying booze from a minor faded. Grey squandered his fortune on Sherbet Dabs and Flying Saucers and eventually lost his drinks licence at the age of five whilst attempting to sell apple juicy as whisky.
Ten days after losing his license to serve, Grey was rushed to hospital with a suspected Sherbet Dab overdose. It was as he lay on that hospital bed, with the stomach pumping machine whooshing in the background that he made his peace with the world and promised to turn his life around.
The following Monday he announced he was the love child of Bobby Moore and spent the summer appearing on all the gossip and chat show. He became a household face in Norfolk after appearing in a tourism advert for the Norfolk broads. To this day he’s still recognised and often gets free drinks and meals on day trips to Wroxham for simply say “Nooo folk like Norfolk”.
At the age of 21, he fled England’s white cliffs to spend the next three years living in Egypt, where he pretended to be a top archaeology graduate from Oxford called Nigel Lemons. Several years of wearing thin cotton shirts and a casual jumper over the shoulders followed. Just when a blossoming career was imminent, Grey (or Lemons) was caught up in an ancient artefacts theft shambles. Months later Grey was back in England and with the “Lemons Shamans” chant still ringing in his ears, he found himself once again back on the Sherbet Dabs.
It was at this point he was recruited in to the fellowship of the wig. “It turned my life around, made me a new man” He enthused in a recent interview in The Blog about Bloggers.
Faced with this new energy for life he married a centre fold playboy model called Sandy Willowstrap, invented the extra large cotton bud for the Mr and Mrs Big market, became the first person to bunny hop from Basingstoke to Salisbury, wrote the first backwards written novel and contributed hundreds of blog articles up until nearly 4 years ago, when he suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.
Throughout all of his life Grey has struggled with his adverse fear of all pointy objects (parsnips, carrots, umbrellas, pens, pencils and knitting needles, to mention a few). His fear is so extreme that even hearing the word “pointy” results in an instant panic attack, which is only cured by running in bare feet until his palpitations stop.
His worst attack came during a lunchtime visit to Sainsbury’s when an old lady approached him to question the firmness of a parsnip and asked whether it would still be of use in a soup. He instantly took flight, sprinting out of the shop with the old lady following him waving the parsnip all the way, persistently shouting out “Will this parsnip be any good for my soup?” The energetic chase lasted 3 years 294 days 21 hours 36 minutes and 5 seconds and only ended when the old lady accidentally tripped over a paving slab in Inverness, losing her grip on the troublesome parsnip. It was at this point (he-he!!!) that the persistent Sainsbury’s security guard, who had been following the old lady as she followed Grey, arrested her for shop lifting the parsnips. That old lady is now serving time for her crime.
However, it was not all bad news as Grey was recognised by Guinness as the World Record holder for the longest time running whilst being chased by a lady waving a parsnip. Many have tried to break his record, but the same number have failed.
Grey, now recovered from his parsnip pain, has relocated to the Isle of Thanet, which isn’t actually an island but part of the mainland, to write a book entitled “The Parsnip Diaries”. He also spends his evenings attempting to recreate his grandmother’s Cucumber Chutney recipe. Of course, he insists his local green grocer removes the cucumber “points” before delivery.
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