Monkey shock

Jesus, after the weekend I've had, I need cheering up. Here's 30 seconds of two monkeys doing what they do best.

Evil cat plays off your misfortune

A quick look at Google search trends reveals the sudden birth of the Keyboard Cat internet meme. Michael Martin is the focus of the biggest scandal in UK politics since, ooh, last week and included on the above chart to illustrate how a long-dead cat is more important (in Google terms) than the Speaker of the House of Commons.
The cat's owner unearthed an old film of Fatso playing a keyboard - something that YouTube users have incorporated into hundreds of videos each of which appeal to our schadenfreude.

Screw Star Trek...

...THIS is the film I want to see!

Gorillas

Of course, these cricketing gorillas are realistic apart from the bit where they fail to chuck poo at the annoying spectators. Oh hang on, that’s chimps. Someone get that bowler into the England team.

The flying rat analogy

This clip is a good way of explaining that feeling one gets when having lost a pitch.

Looking after the crown jewels

It's a scene that many people see every day but you wouldn't expect it in an ad. Got to love it though.

For
Via

Ruff sex

It's the sign of a jaded life that the grammar upsets me more than the picture that's currently in my head.

via

Look out for this evil man

Very serious US news bulletin that has to get a mention here. Commit the suspect's likeness to your memory immediately.

Wuff treatment

via

One dog, broken

My weekend off-topic ticklement from b3ta.

Watch the dog

I think I might save weekend posts for off-topic rubbish that makes me laugh (plus, that's the time when I plunge into the b3ta site - the best place to find this stuff).
Watch the dog.

My first giraffe-related post in fucking ages

I have a white coat and have spent the last 15 minutes designing a certificate on Powerpoint. I am now a scientist so, yeah, fuck you Richard Dawkins. And, guess what? Just before I entered Giraffe Towers this morning, I happened to notice a red car with the first three registration letters RYX. Afterwards, I thought: what were the odds of me seeing a red car with the registration letters RYX at precisely 8:20 this morning? Fucking astronomic, that’s what. This proves I am psychic.
And now, to complete my day of awesome, I have seen proof that there is a god, and here it is.
Dear chimp worshippers: because a giraffe’s head doesn’t explode, there must be a god.

(Curious to see how long this video stays up until it dies of embarrassment…)

Beware the Violent Kittens Of Death

Part of the fun of being a parent is the joy of the many opportunities where one can confuse the shit out of the rugrats, knowing full well that they’ll grow up and find you out. For instance, Chimplet #1 believed for years that I was a retired Jedi and my spaceship was buried under my house. Other deliberate misconceptions enjoyed by the tribe are that my exercise bike could be easily transformed into a jet pack, that the Cretaceous extinction really came about because of the Fourth Awesome Dinosaur War (e.g. Velociraptors with plasma guns, Pterosaurs with miasma bombs, etc.), and my personal favourite because it is still believed by Chimplet #3, that little girls have to decide on their 10th birthday whether they want to remain humans or turn into a horse.
I reckon this Toyota ad by Publicis Mojo must have been made when the creatives were completely shit-faced, or they are still very young and under the influence of a Dad With An Overactive Imagination cos the scenario here, that cats go to clubs and have huge fuck-off kung-fu fights with weapons, is one that’s right out of my book.

It's my carpet and I'll cry if I want to

So we broke in through my own bedroom window and decided to strip on the way out of the room. Don’t ask about the logic, or my fucking huge Y-fronts, but wonder instead about the strange spell that my new carpet exerted on Mistress #14.
Just what is it about women and home furnishings? There must be something in the Shake ‘n Vac that turns their brains to custard. I mean, thirty quid a square foot and the daft cow dumps her bird-murdering beast on my brand new carpet.
Be a love and give it a good scrub and hoover. I'm off to the footie.



More proof that women and animals shouldn’t be allowed indoors:

Worship your furry overlords
Harveys' big offer
My furniture takes another caning
Those worms didn't come out of my arse, madam
Down boy
Get off my bleedin' chair
Are you sitting comfortably?

If I were a shock advert

When I am in pain, you do not hear me cry.
When I am happy, you do not hear me laugh.
When I am confused, you do not hear me sigh.
But if I started wanking on the bus, you’d bloody well notice me.
(Poem by Drew Peacock, 13).

Ad by TBWA Finland, via Ads of the World

It’s a croc

Another film director gets wheeled out to make an ad and, guess what, they make a film. Baz Luhrmann’s new work for Tourism Australia is (and this is a girlie word I don’t really like to use) lovely. Some poor overworked Sheila gets a visit from a mystical Aboriginal kid who lures her into the Outback to Find Herself, where she gets lost, is then pursued by a rapist in a pick-up truck who chases her into a river where she’s devoured by a crocodile.
Oh, hang on, that’s my script getting mixed in.
OK I admit I’m a sick fuck but pushing the idea of wandering the wilds of Australia to Brits will appeal most to those who are suicidal.
From the Daily Telegraph, this week.

See also:
Aussie foreplay: "Brace yourself, Sheila"
We rock too;
Digging Australia;
Missing canoeists

Old ladies' stuff, part 10

Them glass trinkets - you know, the ones in our old shop in Blackpool - can't shift the buggers. Five artfully arranged glass cats in the store window. The old ladies love 'em, but the credit crunch means their biggest luxury now is cheap toffee from Aldi. Thing is, there's eight more boxes of them round the back.
Brainwave! Call them "crystal". Give the collection a fancy name. Old ladies like card games. No, not Whist, you idiot. Something classy.
And if you squint, really hard, the cats look like big glass willies. Holy shit, the ad writes itself! Find a hot chick! Legs akimbo. A visual Playing With Pussy joke. Dildos are posh now, upper middle-class and the like. I bet that Keira bird has one.
Sorted!


See also:
Old ladies’ stuff - part 9
Old ladies’ stuff - part 8
Old ladies’ stuff - part 7
Old ladies’ stuff - part 6
Old ladies’ stuff - part 5
Old ladies’ stuff - part 4
Old ladies’ stuff - part 3
Old ladies’ stuff - part 2
Old ladies’ stuff - part 1

A bag of gems in the Metro

Naturally, it was the ice-skating chimps that drew me to Metro's website today (Metro: London's freebie morning newspaper). But then, a quick browse unearthed the following epic fuck-up from Birmingham Council.
I can't recall ever having any nice experiences there. Last time I went to Birmingham I was walking through Witton cemetary and spotted some chap sitting behind a gravestone. "Morning", I said. He replied, "No, just having a shit." That's how bad it is.
Speaking of waste, the Council really did send out these leaflets and, get this, included a picture of the Birmingham skyline. Er, not the Birmingham, Warwickshire skyline, but that of Birmingham, Alabama. WTF...?
But the Metro version of the story reminds me that the website's resident picture monkey is still writing the captions. Sure enough, his trite comments also lighten up stories about porn and Bigfoot.

See also: Roadkill

Why we love elephants

Remember this classic by Ammirati Puris Lintas from 1996?

It appears that there may be some truth in the story...

Monkey Invasion sub-plan #1093

...Memo to troops: show no mercy to the cats...