Pot Noodle Island – The myth demystified

Regular viewers of this site will have seen lots of references to Pot Noodle Island, a physical entity that does indeed exist, and one which I have visited on many occasions.

Many have assumed that the place is just a myth, like Atlantis, or merely an elaborate hoax. However, below is physical proof, taken from Google Maps and other Geo-Satellite data that gives a close up of Pot Noodle Island:

island

Definitive proof if I ever saw it with my own eyes.

Where has Clovis gone ?

Clovis was born into a German artistocratic family. He probably is a Junker.

$c= $clovis=12/5;
$z = ($clovis * $clovis)^1.03454;

So where is Clovis ?

The return of Clovis

Where has Clovis been ?

$clovis = 0;

Welcome back HOVIS VON CLOVIS.

Doris Tuttle and her Magic Kettle

Today, I had the fortune (or misfortune) to meet the world-renowned physicist Boris Parloff. When I first met him, I was struck by his size. I made a joke and said “Do people ever mistake you for Boris Karloff?”. At which point he pulled out a cut-throat razor and started shouting “If you ever say that again, I will slit your throat, then cut off your toes one by one with bolt-cutters”…

So, I was quiet, and we went into his laboratory. There have been rumors swirling around for years that he has had access to secret technology developed in Nazi Germany, then later worked upon by the Nazi underground in Argentina.

Very few people have ever had access to his laboratory, so I was careful to be guarded about what I asked him. However, he pointed towards a bell-shaped device with a small door on the side, and he said, “Go ahead. Sit in it”.

I asked “Is this a device that is going to blur space and time?”

He started laughing like a hyena and starting shouting “NO!!! YOU FOOL!!! I CAN’T BEND SPACE AND TIME!!! YOU ARE GOING TO GO AND SEE DORIS TUTTLE AND HER MAGIC KETTLE!!!”

He pressed a button and the device started to spin wildly… TBC…

The horseMEAT guide to 21st century Victorian Etiquette – Part Two – Baldness

Baldness - Rub the part morning and evening with onions, till it is read, and afterwards with honey. - Or wash it with a decoction of boxwood.- Or electrify it daily.

The Kraftwerk Monkey – Part Two – Stoner Witch

The place: Whitehaven. The Year: 1856. It was a year after I nearly drowned in my bedroom, and I must admit I slid into a state of despair. I no longer took any joy in wearing my huge top-hat, and I took the drastic step of shaving off my mutton-chop sideburns.

What made it even worse was that every time I ventured out of my house, I could see that Tobias was having great success with his Kraftwerk monkey. I must admit it made me a bit envious. Crowds would arrive in the town by train and listen to that bloody monkey droning “WIR FAHR’N FAHR’N FAHR’N AUF DER AUTOBAHN”. In fact they loved it. Tobias had become on of the most popular people in the town, yet what had he done? He just happened to own a monkey that could sing songs by Kraftwerk.

One day, in the depths of despair, I was sitting in the worst tavern in town, sulking and drinking a glass of dark mild when lo and behold, an unholy racket erupted. Several sailors, newly back from their latest trip to Pot Noodle Island crashed into the tavern and started to cause mayhem. They were obviously hell-bent on spending their entire earnings from the trip in one night.

I snapped out of my morbid state of mind and had an idea. I approached one of the sailors, bought him a drink and engaged him in conversation. “Pray good sir”, I said. “I believe one of your good fellows sold one of my friends a singing monkey. I wonder if you have brought anything of interest back from Pot Noodle Island this time.”

He started to laugh and retorted “Well, we did bring back a Mandrill. It’s quite a vicious creature and to be honest, we’ll be well rid of it.”

“Does it have any musical abilities ?” I enquired. He paused and said “Well, yes. It can play a zither, and likes to play songs by Faust and Melvins. To be honest, I can’t stand that stuff. It was driving me crazy. You can have it for ten guineas.”

“It’s a deal!!!” I declaimed. Now I have a monkey three times the size of Tobias’s specimen. The next day I took it into town, and we set up across the street from Tobias and his Kraftwerk monkey. The mandrill started plucking on a zither and gave a rendition of Melvins’ “Stoner Witch”.

We’ll soon find out who has the most talented monkey!!!

The horseMEAT guide to 21st century Victorian Etiquette – Part One – Accosting

Yes, it is easy to laugh at Victorian morality, but one cannot deny the fact that there are too many feral children and roughnecks roaming our streets, ready to pounce and cause outrage at the slightest provocation. Unhand me you scoundrel !!!

ACCOSTING. When a lady is met or a person of either sex in a superior position, the hat should be lifted as a mark of respect. A gentleman should not presume to notice a lady, until the lady recognises him; the lady should also be the first to advance her hand to be shaken. Upon the occasion of shaking hands the gloves should not be removed. When a person bears evident signs of being in a hurry, he should just be acknowledged, and then suffer to pass on. When an acquaintance betrays a wish not to be recognised, he should not be seen. Modes of recognition which consist of slapping persons on the back, tapping them on the shoulder, pulling their coat tails or their hair, calling in their ear, or shouting out their name in the street are vulgar and absurd antics, reprehensible in the extreme.

Genial Conspiracy Theorist

I was disturbed earlier by an old lady fighting in the street with a transvestite. They were hitting each other with their handbags and she was yelling at him, shouting “You big poof!!!” Then he slapped her with a handbag and said “Don’t you talk to me like that!!!”. It was amusing but I had more pressing issues to sort out.

I visited somebody who contracted horseMEAT Enterprises PLC to come and sort out their IT issues. But I discovered he was a professional conspiracy theorist.

He told me, “Look, most of the common conspiracy theories, like Adolf Hitler is still alive, Frank Sinatra was involved in the death of JFK, or NASA never landed an astronaut on the moon. Well, I’m responsible for most of them.”

I asked him how he did it, but he was a bit cagey. He said, “Look, a lot of people are just stupid. As long as you are believable, you can say any old crap and spread lots of disinformation. We have the Internet now, so it is even easier…”

“In the technical sense, conspiracy is just a thought crime. For instance, imagine if you planned to rob a jewellery shop and made elaborate plans then aborted it at the last minute. The fact that you planned it is enough to get you nicked on a conspiracy charge and sent to prison for a long time. In fact, if the Police think you are up to no good, want to get at you, but can’t charge you with anything that would hold up in court, they always go after you on conspiracy charges.”

“But I’m more interested in crazy conspiracies. In fact”, he said, “If you can come up with some good conspiracy theories, come and work with me.” HHmmmm… Tempting… I’m sure I can dream something up…..

Lord Edmund’s Dream Machine — Soon to be available to the general public….

Lord Edmund strode into the room and declaimed “Howling Apples!!! This family is ruined!!!” I let him compose himself and asked “Pray God. What has befallen you?”

He poured a glass of brandy and said “Alas, I lost a fortune at the gaming tables. But I’ve also had my path covered in tarmac seventeen times. I owe those vultures a fortune.”

Luckily I was there to save the day. “Lord Edmund,” I shouted, “I bought a lottery ticket last night. And I’ve won!!! You can take it sir and restore the fortunes of your great and illustrious family!!!”

Lord Edmund walked over, took the ticket, but I noticed the evil glint in his eye. “Hang on!!” I shouted. “I have been reading a depraved book called ‘The Story of the Eye’… Are you the same Lord Edmund that I have been working for all these years ?!??”

He laughed and said “Well, Yes!!! But now that lottery ticket is mine!!!”

I got angry and shouted “Well, Sir, you are nothing but a depraved animal. A beastly swankpot !!! Somebody should wrap you up in a paper bag and throw you in the bin!!! Why Sir!!! You are no better than a SANITARY TOWEL!!!!”

He looked at me, grinned and said “I’ve been recording your dreams”.

“What do you mean?!? Recording my dreams?!?!”

He starting laughing then said “I bought a device from Japan. I’ve been recording your dreams for the last year. I know what goes on in your head when you are asleep.”

“But you can’t!!” I shouted.

“Yes I CAN!!!” he retorted. “Do you remember that tall geeky girl who you used to secretly fancy when you were sixteen years old!!! Well, I’ve got dream tapes of you rampantly banging her on a bouncy castle in the middle of Blackpool Pleasure Beach. And all the visitors were looking at you, but basically left you to get on with it…”

“Please give me the tapes… Don’t do this to me…”

He waved the lottery ticket in front of my face and said “I may claim my win tomorrow. But just remember, I have lots of those tapes. Some of your dreams were far worse!!! And you called me depraved!!! I might put them on YouTube. Now, can you get me another brandy?”

Just in case you are wondering, dream recorders will soon be available in the UK. You can pre-order a device via this website. More details will be available soon… The dream recorders use ARM processors and have 1GB RAM. It is recommended that you have some knowledge of Linux before using them. Really for experts only.

Spas T. Bandylegs III

In 1962, Lee Harvey Oswald, who had defected to the Soviet Union, returned to the United States. He was met by Mr Spas T. Rankin. Was Rankin working for the CIA? Well, we’ll leave that to the conspiracy theorists.

The year is now 2013. In co-operation with an undercover reporter from The Guardian, we interviewed Louisiana Congressman Spas T. Bandylegs III. The first part of the transcript can now be revealed.

Reporter: When you were a small child, did people bully you because of your name?
Spas T. Bandylegs: Whhhyyyy Noooo Saaahhh !!!
Reporter: Are you sure?
Spas T. Bandylegs: Well, yes saahhh !!! When aahhh was a small child, maah best buddy was called Gaylord Henpecker. Me aaanndd Gaylord, well !!! Nobaady messed with me and Gaylord !!!
Reporter: I know the United States often gets a lot of criticism, but people in Scotland might want to know why there is still a ban on importing haggis into the USA.
Spas T. Bandylegs: Whhy Saaah !!! We eat steak in this great country. But in principle aah believe in free market economics. If those poor people and black folks want to eat offal and entrails, well I say let them eat it!!!
Reporter: What if I decided to smuggle haggis into the country via the mexican or canadian border?
Spas T. Bandylegs: Why Saahhh!!! You would be sent to prison for 25 years. Why Saah!!! You are threatening the very security of our great country!!! What kind of communistic drivel are you talking saahh !!!
Reporter:  So, can you import tripe into the United States?
Spas T. Bandylegs:  Aahh believe so saahhh!!!

So there you have it. But there was a more pressing issue closer to home. I received a phone call from a woman called Amanda who I hadn’t seen for years and she said to me “Look, I need you to do me a very big favour. I have to deliver a couple of Snow Leopards and I need your help.”

Apparently they were to be delivered to a property that is reputedly owned by the Earl of Richmond, although this cannot be confirmed. We ended up driving into a run-down council estate on the outskirts of Whitehaven and followed a gravel path that led up to a huge mansion in the middle of the estate. I did remark to her “This is a funny place to have a huge mansion”. She replied “I guess the mansion was built before the estate. They probably built the estate around the mansion and its grounds” I accepted that argument and didn’t think any more about it.

We drove up to the mansion with the snow leopards locked up securely in a horsebox behind the car. When we reached the mansion, Amanda got out of the car and started chatting with what I can only describe as a ‘sinister-looking henchman’. He was rubbing his hands and asking “Have you got the leopards?”

Amanda went to the horsebox, unbolted it, then let the leopards out. She started laughing and screaming at him “You big fat fool!!! Did you ever really think I would hand them over to you!!! You idiot!!! I just took your money!!! These animals should not be caged. I’m letting them go free!!! Where they belong!!!”

And free they went. They disappeared in a blink of an eye. While the “fat fool” was jumping up and down in a rage, we got back into the car and I asked her “Are you sure that was a good idea?” She looked at me and said “Of course it was. Do I look like somebody who makes rash decisions?”

Fair enough. But that evening, I turned on the news and was horrified to learn the leopards had found their way into the middle of the town and had killed and partially eaten two people. The police had deployed marksmen to shoot them on sight and they were apparently looking for the two individuals who had let them loose.

I didn’t let those bloody animals loose!!! But I’ll probably get blamed for it all the same. Five minutes later I heard the door getting kicked in and can only assume it was the police. I managed to sneak out onto the roof, climbed down the drainpipe of a house located down the road, and hid in a storm drain for two days. I’m sure I can explain this away. I’ve been in worse situations in the past…. Like the time I had to hide in an abandoned Bitcoin mine. All the bitcoins had been mined, so I was able to stay hidden in it for over two months….

Poodle Attack Xtreme !!!

Excellent News!!! The TV Channel UN-RE-AL-I.T.-TV9 will be relaunched in August thanks to generous backing from horseMEAT Enterprises Plc. Well, what will be on the new re-vamped line-up?

First of all, there will a new re-vamped series of Poodle Attack. This is no ordinary Poodle Attack. This is “Poodle Attack Xtreme” !!! In the first series we saw men who were forced to walk soppy dogs and were the laughing stock of the neighbourhood. We took these soppy dogs and turned them into trained killing machines. The neighbours stopped laughing once we unleashed the poodles on them !!!

This time we go one step further. We actually inject them with rabies. Watch as their neighbours barricade themselves indoors in terror as the rabid feral poodles jump up at their windows, foaming at the mouth and with death on their minds.

Also, there will be a new series of “Backstreet Tattoo Disasters”. We interview 15 year-old Kylie. She went to a guy who does tattooing in his kitchen. She wanted some stars tattooed on her neck, but the guy tattooed an erect penis and several swastikas over her neck. She complains “He’s disfigured me. I have to wear a polo neck top when I go out and boys laugh at me.” She then goes on to explain “He was drinking cans of Special Brew before he did it. I had a bad feeling at the time.”

We interview her Mum and ask her “Why the hell did you allow your 15 year old daughter to get tattooed?” and she replies “It was her birthday. It was a birthday present”.

So, if you like to watch TV shows about real people who are made to look like retarded fools, you will have to tune into the all new UN-RE-AL-I.T.-TV9.

The Kraftwerk Monkey

The place: Whitehaven. The Year: 1855. Having just purchased the largest Top-Hat in the north of England (a full three-foot in height!!!), I had carefully brushed and applied pomade to my mutton-chop sideburns and decided to stroll through the town in order to show off my elegant new hat.

By chance, I spotted my old friend Tobias, and was surprised by the strange creature perched upon his shoulder. “Pray Tobias, what be that strange creature?” I inquired. “‘Tis a monkey, my good friend” he replied. He pointed down the street and said “Do you notice that oafish rabble hanging around outside that public house? Well, they be sailors who have just returned from a long voyage to Pot Noodle Island. One of those fellows sold me this little chap for half a guinea. Now WATCH THIS !!!” he declaimed.

The monkey jumped from his shoulder, shimmied up a drainpipe and perched itself upon the top a sign hanging from a shop doorway. No sooner had a crowd gathered to stare at the curious creature did the monkey break into song, droning “WIR FAHR’N FAHR’N FAHR’N AUF DER AUTOBAHN” over and over again.

“What is that monkey singing?” I inquired. “Oh! It only appears to know songs by Kraftwerk. I guess I haven’t had the time to teach it any new ones. Not that I really have much experience in teaching monkeys how to sing, you know….” The monkey then started hanging from the sign and singing “SHE’S A MODEL AND SHE’S LOOKING GOOD..”

The crowd broke into applause and started throwing coins at the monkey. Tobias stood there grinning like a buffoon and said to me “This little chap will make me a fortune. Maybe you should get one yourself ?”

The thought stuck in my head. I was thinking about it in bed that night, and I must have drifted off to sleep but only for a short while when I suddenly awoke and found that the room was full of water. I managed to climb up onto a high shelf for safety and thought to myself “I wonder if I can manage to swim to the window and open it?”…..

Futuristic Dilemmas !!!

Well, what do you do with a building without stairs? Well, if you are unfamiliar with this conundrum, refer to the last post. I’ve only been able to broadcast this to the world via an old TELEX machine. Anyway, what do you do with a building without stairs. I had to bring in the world-famous architect Abdul-Azziz Smith.

He said to me. “Look, this is a fantastic building. Why do you need stairs? I’m not thinking 21st century. I’m thinking 23rd century. This could be a hub. It could be like a new Kowloon Walled City, but without stairs. Who needs to walk up and down stairs. It’s so old-fashioned…”

As much as I respect his reputation, I did have a couple of qualms. Firstly, if you don’t have stairs, how do you get up and down? He brushed that aside with a knowing wink and said “Forget about Google Glasses. Google are actually working on teleportation devices right now. It’s only known to a few software developers. It may take ten years or so. But imagine… If you need to pee, you will be able to teleport to the bathroom. Stairs will become a bit out-dated…”

I countered “Wasn’t Kowloon Walled City the biggest slum in Hong Kong? They demolished it..” He gave me a knowing look. He just stared me straight in the face and said “Soon, we will all be living in Kowloon Walled City…”

But he then went off on a different tangent and said “I’ve been watching the news. You know the Pope always drives around in a Pope Mobile. I think the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson should have a Boris Mobile. But what type?”

I replied “It’s so obvious. He would drive a clown-car. Like they do in a circus. It would come farting up the street, and all the doors would fall off, and Boris would climb out and declaim ‘Gosh!!! Cripes, my doors have fallen off…”

He intergected and stated “I think you are wrong. He needs a Weeble Car. Did you ever play with weebles when you were a child? Remember, Weebles Wobble but they don’t fall down. He just needs a life-size battery-powered Weeble Car.”

However, my assistant was listening to the conversation, and she said “Sorry for interrupting. But you know people are talking about Boris Johnson as the future Prime Minister. What about George Osbourne?? You may not be aware that his half-brother is Ozzy Osbourne. Apparently when Boris pulls off his coup and unseats Cameron, he is going to bring in Ozzy as Chancellor of the Exchequer.”

That is political dynamite. Boris and Ozzy Osbourne. Who wouldn’t vote for them…. Hey, they might have difficulties tying their shoe-laces, but they are popular…

Be careful what you wish for….

Yes, although there have been lots of arrests of “high-target” criminals in South-West Scotland lately, that does not deflect from problems closer to home.

I have been plagued by one vexatious individual recently. Each day, my employees have been diligently turning up for work at horseMEAT plc to manufacture unicycles that are desperately needed throughout Eastern Europe. Now, I think I am a moderate type of employer. For instance, if you phone us up and complain about a defective unicycle, you will get one of the following messages:

1) Press ONE to discover our unique range of unicycles
2) Press TWO to COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO
3) Press THREE to repeat this message.
4) Press FOUR to arrange a free test ride on one of our unicycles.

I think I’m getting the hang of these new-fangled phone systems. But I am digressing from the point. Some of the young women who work here have been making complaints about a strange man who lurks about on the bridge where they have to walk under in order to reach the factory. Apparently, he throws soya beans at their heads, and when he hits the target (i.e. their heads), he stands there cackling like a hyena.

Normally I wouldn’t bother, but he has been creeping a few people out. He is described as about 5 foot 5 tall, about 50 years old, stocky, with a grey beard and always wears a huge bobble-hat with pom-poms attached to it. I just dismissed it and told people “He’s just probably smoking crack”…

Yesterday, my assistant ran into the office and starting shouting “He’s up there!!! You have to do something!!!”. My first thought was to phone the guys from Agnostic Front. Maybe I thought they could batter him around the head with their guitars or something. However, there really wasn’t time for that, so I decided to act decisively, so I ran outside, sprinted up the road and started yelling “HEY YOU F**KING IDIOT… IF I CATCH YOU I’LL STAMP ON YOUR HANDS… YOU WON’T BE THROWING SOYA BEANS AROUND FOR A WHILE”

However, as soon as I ran up the hill to the bridge, he had disappeared. As if my magic. A bit like Mr Ben. I thought he might be hiding in a hedge, but I felt confident enough to go back the building and announce “No worries… He’s Gone…”

But to my amazement, all the stairs had vanished from the building. Then I heard some horrendous cackling and the guy was standing back on the bridge. He was yelling “I’VE STOLEN YOUR STAIRS”… then he ran off…

It is a three-story building. And all the stairs had vanished. That meant people could not go upstairs or downstairs. People were yelling at me “I’ve got to go home”… “I’ve got to pick up my kids”… “I’ve got to go and have a pee…”

You can plan for fires, severe data-loss or World War Three, but what happens when somebody steals all your stairs. I effectively have a building without stairs. I had to get people out with rope ladders. Best solution in a crisis. I’ll probably get sued due to Health and Safety concerns…

This is serious. I’ve now got a vendetta against that crazy old fool. He has stolen my stairs. If I catch up with him I’ll probably pour napalm into his arse via a funnel and set light to it !!! I’ve got a funny feeling that I haven’t seen the last of him…..

A matter of some confusion…

Hello readers, I am forced to make this update due to the fact that we have been bombarded with emails due to the recent horsemeat scandal that seems to be constantly in the news.

Just to clarify matters, we represent horseMEAT Entreprises PLC, which is in no way involved in the production or distribution of horsemeat for human consumption or otherwise.

Our main areas of business currently is the manufacture of motorised unicycles.

Whilst we were previously involved in foodstuffs to a limited degree, this was restricted to the importation of pickled hedgehog and the manufacture of Humpty-Dumpty Cakes.

I hope this clears up the matter once and for all.