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The Summer Burn has started! Check your inbox now. |
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Remember kids, the Cheese in Trees competition closes this weekend, so make sure your entries are in the FJ mailbox by Monday morning!
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All things must, we know, come to an end. It's a sad fact of life, unfortunately. So, it's with tear-ridden yet joyous hands the I present to you this final Cup Tower Update. Who would have known that due to hard work and diligence, we could finish such a magnificent structure a whole week earlier than expected?
That's right, the Cup Tower is complete!
 (clicky for biggy)
I'd like to thank everyone* involved in creating what is officially** the biggest cup-based tower ever made. I expect my name in the Guinness Book of Records any day now. In the mean time, please leave suggestions for what to do with the tower in the comments. 5-4 favourite at the moment, TORCH IT!!!
*No-one really, maybe Fat Merecat
*Unofficial, obviously
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fish•ing
n.
1. The act, occupation, or sport of catching fish.
2. A place for catching fish.
Nowadays, you need heavy equipment to deal with some of the wrigglers that you might catch.
Thanks coolio's.
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Every year here at Funjunkie Towers, we like to give something back to the local community, which is only fair after releasing the Wombat a few times and thinning out the population.
A week of festivities is organised, including everybody's favourite, the big Cheese in Trees competition which we've recently let you all enter.
The biggest event is the street race, where lots of people bez down the highstreet in their souped up Renault 5s (with rear spoiler and stupildy large exhaust pipe), hitting the turbo for added speed and hitting busses for added flames. We're running a warm-up today, so you're welcome to join us. One word of warning though... we haven't managed to get the locals to clear the streets, so you might want to watch out for the odd truck.
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FJ Towers hasn’t quite been the same since FFS’s arrival. As soon as she got here, it was all pink loo roll instead of leaves, and Lambrini instead of lager.
She’s decided to take the preparation for the Halloween festivities into her own hands. She’s a bit of a party pooper and doesn’t like this particular holiday, so she’s enforced rather a lot of restriction on the rest of us. For a start, there’s no bobbing for apples. Secondly, we’re not allowed to waste any of the office budget on costumes.
However, this has brought on some spontaneous creativity within the ranks, and a judicious use of cardboard and gaffer tape. Badger Mushroom has outshined us all with his fetching effort. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get thrown out by accident on bin day.
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To Me!
To You!
To Me!
To You!
*sigh*
Comedy genius doesn't get much more comical or genius than the Chuckle Brothers, and now you can star as them in their very own game. Don't ever acuse us of being too hi-brow.
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Not really much of a game but nice nonetheless. This little point and click is more of an animator's dream sequence, and you should all be able to complete it with ease.
Those of you who don't, come and see me after class and we'll have a little discussion about your poor performace.
Strap yourselves in and see if you can open the Treasure Box.
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Ladies, Gentlemen, and others... I'd like you to consider the genius of Cars with Guns. Think about it. Cars, they're all well and good, but what about cars with guns? The endless possibil...
Hang on, what about Jellyfish with guns? Jellyfish with guns is even more genius than the first idea! This is terrific, and what's more, nobody's ever thought about it before. I've got to go and find Wild because once he knows about these Jellyfish, he's going to want to stop work on the Evil Monkey Robot Army and get started on this as soon as possible. Damn, I'm good at this inventing lark.
Anyway, while I'm gone, why not go and play with some cars with guns?
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If they haven’t been round yet, those pesky kids will be banging on your door this weekend demanding sweets. Yes, it’s Halloween again, the time when the ghouls and ghosts come out to suck on virginal blood, laughing maniacally to themselves “Mwa-ha-ha-ha!” Therefore, in traditional Funjunkie Little Friday style, let’s get the bandwagon rolling! Be quick to stake your claims, it’s an easy one!
Bands that are spooky, spooky things that are bands*.
Here are a few to start you off:- Halloween (obviously)
- Ghouls Aloud
- Scare Naked Ladies
- PhanTom Jones
- Alice in Rattling Chains
- Frank-enstein Sinatra
- The Dracu-La’s
- Sh-Apparition Ranks (sorry)
- Nosfera-TaTu
- Gareth Gates of Hell
- Jesus & Night-Mary Chain
- Wraith Charles
- Mari-ahhhhhh S-Carey
- Bloody Holly
- Black Cat Stevens
- Massive Heart Attack
- Don’t you dare smash my pumpkins, I spent ages carving them!
- Faith no more scares now please, I’ve already pooed my pants
Add yours in the comments below...
*Let’s not make it ALL death metal bands, OK?
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Well I must say, it's great to see that you're all loving Reg's Pants! It's especially nice to see Reg loving his own pants so much. In a desperate attempt to be reunited with his beloved monkey pouch the poor love is currently set to loose £9.01 from his weekly crisp fund. Awwwwwwwww.
It's only 1 day 20 hours until bid ends so you still have time, and I still have time to enjoy the pants before they get lost in the great British Postal System. I'm not looking forward to handing them over, nor am I looking forward to handing over my largest bid ever to charity but hey a promise is a promise.
Speaking of charity, here's a snippet of an e-mail I received from the lovely Emma Jackson of Cancer research UK:
The easiest way to donate the money would be to send a cheque payable to
Cancer Research UK to the following address............ include a fore note with your address details on and a receipt will follow shortly.
I don't know about you but that sounds a tad boring to me. As an alternative I would like your opinions on the idea of pictures of myself personally handing the money over to a street collector. Imagine their little face when I give them over ten whole pounds. Obviously it's the winners decision but please bare in mind that photos always make for an easy and fun post.
Over and out.
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Rubbish at surgery / speaking German? Then you'll probably be rubbish at this game too.
OK, I'll be nice. For once.
Press the centre button.
Drop the worm with the first tap of the spacebar.
Hit the worm with the bin lid on the second tap.
Beat 159.96 (current FJ HQ Hi-score).
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Oh baby, come to daddy!
We're not even a third of the way through our given time for this amazing cup tower project, but estimations lead us to believe we've reached the HALFWAY MARK! The picture below gives you some sort of idea..
There have been talks within the ranks about what possibilities the cup tower has when it's finished. The most likely option is to recreate the Towering Inferno, and torch it. Obviously this can't be done within the confines of an office, but we'll see what we can manage. Just for scale, just imagine what an ant would feel like if he saw this baby with flames licking all around it...
Check our Flickr images on the right for more cup tower pics, and general glibbonery.
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You'll be missed.
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Sky rockets in flight, cup tower delight!
Woooooah-Woooah, cup tower delight!
There's a feeling of real optimism in the cup tower camp, as we've put last weeks' cleaner debacle behind us. In fact, not only have we warned the cleaner not to steal the cups again, we've also got an apology from her/him:
So, how are we going? We've yet to break the metre barrier (fingers crossed for tomorrow) but the tower is currently standing at a whopping 73 cm!
You can also see them in a grandified size if you look in our flickr images to the right.
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It's not just the days that are getting rearranged either. Time itself distorts over the weekend, when the clocks go back. That's a lot easier to deal with though, since you'll get another hour in bed*.
But before the clock change, there are a few things you should have in your diary (unless Wild's proposal goes through and all the days are mixed up).
- 29-Oct-04 11:53:17 BST, bidding ends on FFS's stolen Monkey Pants
- 30-Oct-04 19:30:00 BST, chance to bid on an original Reg drawing at an auction held in a mental hospital**
- 31-Oct-04 23:59:59 BST, closing date for the Cheese In Trees Competition
If you haven't got your entry in by then, you're sacked!
*Unless you're up past your bedtime in a club, then you'll miss the change
**Truth is stranger than fiction
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I've had it up to here with the week. Its all wrong. There's just no creativity or excitement in the regularity of the way the days are set out.
Tuesday always follows Monday, Wednesday hangs on like a lost puppy to Tuesday's coat-tails, Thursday and Friday bring up the rear like two drunk buffoons swigging gin straight from the bottle and falling into bushes.
It never changes. Who's idea was that? Its rubbish!
So I propose a change. I'm moving Monday to Thursday's slot, Wednesday moves to Tuesday and Friday has a wee go in Wednesday's slot.
Hmm, but that means that Monday and Tuesday are still next to each other like the swots in school whilst Thursday and friday are at the back sniggering and throwing paper aeroplanes still.
Ok, Friday moves from Tuesday's slot and takes up residence in Wednesday. Tuesday moves from Friday to Monday's old place, and Thursday goes and sits in Friday's old leather chair and drinks all its whiskey. Wednesday though. Hmmm. I'll move Wednesday from Tuesday to Monday so that Friday can have Tuesday and Tuesday moves to Wednesday.
Dammit! Monday and Tuesday are still snogging it out next to each other. Ok. Monday goes back to Monday. Tough. Stupid Monday.
There. So its now Monday, Friday, Tuesday, Wednesday Thursday. Ace.
I've written to the International Board for Day Allocation with my proposal. If all goes to plan, we could be in Friday by Tuesday next week. Or is that Thursday?
I'm confused.
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There there, I know it's Monday, but at least we're already halfway through. I've cooked you a boiled egg, still a bit runny in the centre how you like it, and made you some little soldiers to dip into it. That should cheer you up.
If you want, I can sort you out a nice mug of Horlicks and a blanket to snuggle up underneath. I think neighbours will be on in a minute, you like that don't you? It's one of your favourites. Go and sit on the sofa, and I'll bring in some biccies.
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I mentioned before that I've got a can of whup-ass, and although I wasn't going to open it, I think you deserve it. You've been so good today, so here's your bonus Funjunkie Friday Game.
Please feel free to beat the hell out of this rather irritating old codger, Grampa Grumble.
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2 hours have passed since we posted an FFG, and I reckon you're probably bored of the old ones now.
No problem. Here at Funjunkie Towers we've got an evil robot monkey army who, while off duty from Wild's world destruction wars, are programmed to scour the web looking for Funjunkie Friday Games. We even had a new network of ZX Spectrums put in for them, but the cups-and-string network architecture is a bit out dated, so productivity isn't very high.
Still, they have managed to find us another game full of mindless violence, so all is not lost. Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the sixth FFG of the week: Jackhammer Rampage.
WARNING: Contains bunnies.
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"Day Number 2 in the Cup Tower offices, and Badger has found that things are not quite as he planned..."
That's right. For once, Reg made a prediction that has come true. The joy that was yesterdays cup tower (it stood at a mighty 50 cm) has been had away by the stupid fucking cleaners!!! Unbelievable, you'd think these people didn't slurf or something.
Anyway, you think that's gonna stop me reaching me goal*? You're damn right it's not! Building has commenced once again, and we're currently at a pitiful 14 cm.
Click to Enlarge
For safety reasons, a post-it was attached after the photo was taken warning the cleaners that if they took the cup tower again, I'd set the wombat on them.
Tune in on Monday for another cup tower update. Same bat-time, same bat-station!
*The plan is to make the tower reach from desk to ceiling, in a 2 week period
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Cups of coffee: 3
Cups of tea: 1
Pints of water: 2
Fried eggs on toast: 2
Hangover status: Level 3 and falling slowly.
The afternoon has clouted me around the head with it's big bell strike of twelve, rather like a charver banging incessently on the front door, shouting abuse and asking for a tab. Yet somehow, life still goes on in a relentless manner, much like Reg's left leg.
So what happened last night? To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure. I remember having the age old dilemma of wanting to smash up the neighbour's house, but not wanting to pay for the damage. Then I remember my own personal Eureka* moment when I found the perfect solution. The answer is to find somebody else who's drunk enough not to notice, and then use them as your weapon.
Smashing things up by proxy... it's a revolution in demolition technology. I think this could be the next big thing. Now all I need to do is market it.
*Minus one bath.
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It's crap being the youngest member of the team. Whilst they're all out buying fireworks, drinking Pimms and eating fruits of the forest I'm stuck in Funjunkie Towers polishing robots, baking pies and feeding wombats to earn my keep. Well I'm sick of it! If they're not going to give me any pocket money then I'm just gonna have to use my initiative and make my own.
Wilds pants made me a measly £1.70, barely enough for a Catherine Wheel and a bottle of panda raspberryade. My next sale needed to be more exotic, more imaginative, it had to ooooooze sex!
It took me a while to find what I was looking for but when I did they shone and sang to me like Excalibur did to King Arthur.
Ladies & Gentleman, please give very generously to my firework fund and bid for......... Reg's Pants....
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Ah, autumn. The park. The crisp brown leaves falling from their arboreal parents, the bright cool sunshine, the wind whipping the leaves into a mad frenzied dance around your feet, walking dogs in the park, jumpers for goalposts, cheese in string bags hanging from branches swaying softly in the autumnal breeze....
Eh?
Yes, its our 13th Cheese in Trees entry, and this one comes from lovely, lovely Lisa, of 15 Prendergast Studios, Mulbinney, Fife.*
A bag of cheeses, yesterday
(click! Big! Make!)
Lovely gorgeous Lisa gains a great score of 307,697 from the judges (the female judges giving bonus points for including men in shorts in the photo).
There's not long left if you want to win £20 worth of cheese!!! You need to send us YOUR entry soon!
* she doesn't really, I made it up, but I'm imagining her living there solely to amuse myself. Simple things... Maybe one day she will live there. That'd wipe the stupid grin off your face, wouldn't it? Yes, it bloody well would, your smirking buffoon. Get out of my house! I'm calling the police! Put that Hi-Fi back where you found it! Where am I? Nurse! My chaffinch has run out. wibble.
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Without letters and numbers, we'd be screwed.
Take Taz as an example. When he was first adjusting to the different air pressure here on Mars, he could only speak in clicks and whistles. We had to put him on an intensive vocal chord retraining program, and reaquaint him with the English language. He spent hours standing in front of the fridge door rearranging magnet letters in an atempt to refresh his memory.
After we were getting 1560 pints of milk delivered a day, we realised that he had forgotten the normal sequence that numbers occur in too. Now, after a demanding series of tests, he's ordering the right amount of milk* again.
Thanks to Xavier for the game. The current office hi-score (i.e. not mine) is 5.29. Put your scores in the comments box.
*3 pints
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Roses are Red
Monkeys are Blue
Have a game of Shove it,
Or no more deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches for you.
"Uh-huh!"
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Friday's already starting to swing* like a glibbon on the end of a willow branch, and my headache is now threatening to take over the world, or at least the Northern hemisphere. You on the otherhand have been a little slow to catch on. What's wrong with you all? I know we let the Wombat out last night, but I hardly think he could have killed you all... or could he? Am I typing all this for an audience of two?
Hell, that beats the figures for The God Channel, so I'm happy to go on.
I've got a can full of games today. Actually I've got a can full of whup-ass too, but I doubt I'll be opening that today. So games it is, and I'm still on the one-clicks because my brain can't handle anything else.
I think it's important to have a hobby, and if you're thinking of getting into Skydiving it's imperetive that you read the instruction manual first. Taking things literally could be a little disasterous.
*So if you could all put your car keys in the bowl on the table please, then we can get down to the interesting stuff.
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Hah! Wild loses the First FFG of the week competition through a blatant rule infringement, thus allowing me to get in before the B Team come up with their usual poor attempt*.
I'm hungover right now, as I am sure you are too. So we need something simple. Something that only requires one mouse button. Something like pool, but with only one ball**, and preferably no pockets to aim at.
Something like Hit the loser?
You've got a pitiful 1014 to beat.
*I am aware that I will suffer for that.
**Not counting the white.
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We haven't had a Cheese in Trees competition entry in a while; but that's not because there haven't been any sent in, it's because all the chimps have been too lazy to post them!
Poor old Sophie has had her entry festering in the FJ inbox for ages now, and quite frankly the cheese is a lot bluer now than when it came in. And I'm not talking about the language!
Sophie* has got herself a score of 257,941 which doesn't put her in the top spot, but it does assure her a top of the range FJ badge at the very least.
The compo finishes at the end of the month (conveniently coinciding with Halloween), so you've still got a few days to mail us your pictures. Come on, everyone wants a big lump of cheese, don't they?
*Who all the blokes** reckon must be a Foxxx, for some reason.
**Apart from Taz.
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Now, what would you do if you got your brews in piddly little cardboards cups? You'd cry, wouldn't you? You'd sob your little heart out, bless you.
Well, after I got over my initial heartbreak, I decided something must be done with these cups. The best thing I could think of was a cup tower, which in the next few days I hope will reach the office ceiling. This is going to be a tough objective, but since starting yesterday everyone in the office is rallying round and offering support. In fact, the tower has grown a staggering 6 centimetres in the past 30 minutes!
Click to Enlarge
With the excitement this is generating, it looks as though we're going to have to bring you daily news reports on the progress of the tower. And you know where to come for all your cup tower news.........RIGHT HERE!*
* I thought I'd better tell you, you know what you're like?
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It's Carrie Fisher's birthday today. But more importantly, it's also FJ's very own Captain Chaos's birthday too.
Badger Mushroom has been running around like Ming the Merciless all morning trying to buy her* a nice prezzie. If he doesn't succeed, then his "Princess Leia" won't let him "Play Star Wars" in the bedroom anymore.
Luckily for him, I have the perfect solution. Send her a nice new desktop for her PC. And if she's not pleased with that, then double-whammy her with the ace new FJ desktop too. You can't get fairer than that.**
*CC, not CF
**Untrue
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Like auntie, Funjunkie's charter maps out our role as a provider of a public service to all Slurfers, not just in the UK, but all over the world*.
One of our major roles as a service provider is to help answer what we deem to be important theoretical and non-theoretical questions, sent in by our more intellectual readers**. In the past we have delved into such topics as Chemistry and Cooking, when we answered the eternal question: Can you cook a goose egg with a hairdryer?
Today we found our mailbag stuffed with such questions, but our chosen subject of the day comes from FJ regular reader, Mark who asks:
"[Can you] find someone who can make a ZX Spectrum do something by sqealing into a microphone in a tape impersonating manner?"
Leave it with us Mark. If I know the interwebnet, it's jam packed full of crap like that.
*Except for the Isle of Wight.
**Which explains why we don't do this much.
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Autumn is well underway. The trees are shedding their multicoloured coats of leaves in a spectacular display of natural fireworks. But what's this? Time for the Little Friday Bandwagon?
Bands that are trees*, trees that are bands.
Here are a few to start you off:- Ash (obviously)
- Spruce Bringsteen
- Courtney Pine
- Will-ow Young
- Yew 2 (obviously)
- Chuck Mulberry
- Holly Valance
- Super Firry Animals
- Balsa-ntana
- Apple-ton
- Laurel Laverne
- Faith no Sycamore
Add yours in the comments below...
*Deciduous or not
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Forget Kerry & Brian, they're yesterday's celeb gossip. The hot topic of the moment is the impending breakdown of the long term relationship of Bob & Wendy.
In an interview last night for Celeb Star Hot Gossip magazine, Wendy stated that Bob's hygiene was causing major problems between the couple. Bob immediatley hit back in an interview in For Builders Magazine that it was hard to keep clean on a building site, and in any case, any smell was probably coming from Pilchard the cat.
Wendy then hit retalliated with this evidence, revealed in The Daily Tool this morning:
 Shocking new evidence |
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It's a little known* fact that if Yoko Ono married Sonny Bono, she'd be Yoko Ono Bono.
Similarly, if Oprah Winfrey married Depak Chopra, she'd be Oprah Chopra.
If Cat Deely married Snoop Doggy Dogg, she'd be Cat Doggy Dogg.
And if Sondra Locke married Elliott Ness, then divorced him to marry Herman Munster, she'd become Sondra Locke Ness Munster.
Any more for any more?
*And frankly useless
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Ladies and Spazballoons, welcome to Downhill Day.
I'm sure you're all aware of the rules by now, a gentle freewheel down towards the weekend, starting to relax, the worst of the week is over, yadda yadda.
Things continue apace here at FJ Towers - we're currently all very excited about the birth of a new monkey typist in the monkey typing pool. This expands our permanent staff here on the FJ newspaper to 37.*
We've got the baby on the typing pool already, tapping away with its ill-formed fingers. Annoyingly, Its word rate is pretty low. I've given it two warnings already, so if I see it slacking again I'm gonna have to drag it off to my labs to become one of my mutated monkey-ninja army. I'm not having any shirkers here!
Still, it keeps Taz happy. He can be found whiling away the hours chatting to the new baby and sharing his bananas with it. If it keeps Taz quiet, off the booze and away from provoking the Wombat then at least that's something.**
In other news, Reg has found a new hero in child star Zachary Allen, and despite the Zach posters everywhere, is driving us crazy with his rendition of "Give A Little Whistle".
Its not annoying, no. Not at all.
* One day they'll produce a coherent sentence and we'll only be 30 pages away from Issue 1.
** New readers fear not, I'm not just making this up, and all will be explained with the new FJ 'About Us' section that should be appearing very shortly.
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Should you ever, whilst on this thick red plush carpet we call life, find yourself as a DJ on a radio show, then for God's sake DO NOT publish the number to anyone from Funjunkie.
If you were stupid enough to do so, then you can probably expect FJ nutters (2Mb) to phone (1.1Mb) you up and completely disrupt (1.3Mb) your show.
But then it'd be your fault really, so you'd have no one to blame but yourself.
Cheers to BigDaddyMerk for being the most professional Dick Jockey this side of Hospital Radio.
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Welcome Guardian readers.
Party? What party?
Oh... That party.
Yea, you'll find more details here. Hope to see you there.
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Let's see now... What can I tell you about today to keep you interested for the next few paragraphs? Not alot, I grant you. The trouble with being a Funjunkie editor is that we're only allowed a limited quota of words, and of those words, we can only use each one a specified number of times a week. No more, no less.
Sometimes it's hard to use them up, but often, as today, it becomes difficult to write any sense. For example, if I use the word "and" again... that's it! I've just used up my allowance of the word " ", well you know. But you see what I mean. Do you know how difficult it is to form a sentence without using the word... let's call it "bleep" for now, until I run out of bleeps, of which incidentally I only have 2 left.
Enough moaning though, bleep now I'd better give you something to go home with because I'm sure I'll have a lot more trouble on my hands if I don't tell you anything of use in this article. So I think I shall start off by letting you know that the 3rd series of Red vs Blue has now started... yay! Bleep then I think I'll move onto something from Mr and Mrs Wheatley, which should provide you with seconds of enjoyment value.
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Some might say that it’s too early to be drinking, but I say, Fuck It! Tuesdays need a shot in the arm to liven them up.
I’ve just arrived back from my break in a top Scottish retox health farm, and I’ve spent my time wisely. I assembled a crack cocktail development and testing team, and we came up with a few new (or just renamed) alcoholic beverages. Try them at your own peril; Funjunkie accepts no responsibility for you being ill / arrested.
Full Story >>
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Every 900 years evolution hiccups. For the rest of the time, we evolve painfully slowly, but just once every 900 years, the Earth doth bear unto the world a unique step forward into the future. A child is borne.
No normal child, but a special child, a human+. This uber-mensch takes all the qualities of normal humans and amplifies them tenfold, becoming a work of such staggering beauty, intelligence and power that the rest of us can merely gaze on in awe as this higher power goes about its superior works.
Inferior Mortals! I give you Bikerfox!.
He is single, never married. funny that.
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I get teased to hell by some friends about a comment I made once. A simple enough comment:
"Mornings are my bitch."
Now this is a true comment, I'm one of these arseholes who do mornings (and nights), but fuck me if today's morning hasn't gone and turned the tables and got me trussed up in a gimp costume and is dragging me round like an unwanted puppy at christmas.
I've had a million tiny annoyances this morning that are all amassing into one gigantic amorphous Blob of a mood. Here are a few of them, tick off the ones you've had today:- Having to get out of nice lovely warm bed into cold house after having had an ace dream.
- Having to get out of spankingly hot shower into cold house.
- Having no milk left.
- Running out of loo-roll in toilet and the spares being in the other toilet, thus leading to the always ridiculous Bog Roll Shuffle - where you have to shuffle round the house like a crab with a dirty botty.*
- Having a HUGE woman with the MOST atrocious breath I've ever encountered on a human breathe all over me heavily on the bus and making me gag.
- Having to pass through Sloane Square station (it always riles me and I have no idea why)
- Getting to work and not having any keys to get into the office.
- Discovering that some bastard has nicked my fav CD from my desk.
- and finally, This.
* Please tell me you've done this.
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It seems that the great Funjunkie marketing machine knows no bounds at the moment. Now, I know Wild is a big fan of eggs, and the forumites all have a bit of a soft spot for our sponsored dog Frodo. So can you imagine the joy that would be dogs and eggs, together?
That's right, our boffins* have been working hard to give you another spanking FJ product. Your life will now be incomplete without the amazing Funjunkie Dog Eggs!!!
*Trust me, Poorusher is the epitome of a scientist. The weirdo.
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We're a simple lot here at Funjunkie Towers. We're the same as you really. We wake up every morning the same way you do, open our eyes and stare groggily at 4 walls which we don't recognise. After about half an hour of wandering around the east wing of the mansion, lost and confused, we'll finally arrive at the breakfast table and sit down to a full 4 course English breakfast, served by our three waiters, 2 waitresses, and cooked by our resident chef.
We go to work the same way you do... driven in the Bentley by Cuthbert the driver. And we love the simple things in life, like working on Wild's army of evil monkey robots, and taking the odd pop shot at one of our thousands of henchmen with a sniper rifle which we have hidden above the factory floor.
So you see, our lives are no different to yours. Sure, we live in a slightly bigger house, but we still bleed... we still go to the solid platinum toilet, and yes, even we too will die one day. In fact we've booked the Hearse, which should make things run a little smoother after the inevitable has happened. The purpose built tombs are a bit far down the graveyard though, so it looks like the bearers are going to have to do some serious driving.
(Tap the right arrow to increase speed, then hit the space bar to stop.) You've got 716.64 metres to beat, and Mr_Nil to thank.
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Friends! Countrymen! Slurfers! It is time we united against an evil menace that is threatening our very existance!*
Flies. They're the embodiment of evil. One evilly flew into my brother-in-law's ear just the other day, meaning he had to spend the morning in casualty until it was removed. And just last night I was evilly kept awake for ages** while a fly buzzed round and round the room. Evil.
Unite! Kill all flies!
*Well, at least it's treatening a good night's sleep.
**10 minutes
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Not even 10.30 in the morning and already we're up to Funjunkie Friday Game number 2. What's happeneing? Is this some sort of resolution from Taz to cover his guilty conscience about not posting anywhere near his quota for the last fortnight? Or is it perhaps that Taz's mate Mr Nil is giving the FJ editors a rather deserved kick up the arse?
Whatever the reason, and however painful it is to sit down now, we're now looking FFG2 right in the eye! You've got to hand it to FFG2... it can really handle a good old staring match. I think it's cheating though by bringing out the high powered torch and a pair of crocodile clips attached to a small petrol generator. We'll let the referee decide on that on.
Seconds out, round 2. And this time you're out on the drink... a disgustingly pink drink as it happens. Now go out there and try to save the world from Wild and his minions of evil monkey robots.
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Take one car manufacturer that churns out thousands of environmental disasters with four wheels every year.
Give it a shiny new bunch of advertising strategies that place their cars as lovely green machines driven by lovely consciencious people who want to make the world a wonderful place, whilst simmultaneously driving their kids to a school at breakneck speed through a residential area, all of 500 yards from their own house.
Keep pretending that your cars are in some way helping to rebuild the environment.
Create a new advert that shows your engines being nice to the environment in all manner of colourful and groovy ways, even though they are indeed churning out plenty of crap.
Now make a bizarre little online game with impossible controls, that shows a rabbit beating the shit out of an old cooker with a mallet.
What have you got? That's right kids, it's the first Funjunkie Friday Game of the week, and it'll give you seconds of enjoyment value!
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Ah, Little Friday. Tis my favourite day of the week.
But what's this? The weather is trying its hardest to spoil my favourite day? We'll have none of this nonsense!
So, let's issue our sternest rebuttal to nature's spittings today with our regular Funjunkie Band Wagon. This week:
Bands that are weather, weather that is bands*
Here are a few to start you off:- B(rain) Ferry
- The Rolling Hail Stones
- Marilyn ManSUN (I'll also give you ManSUN free of charge)
- (over)Cast
- DJ (cloud) Shadow
- Röyksopping wet
- Cold(snap)play
- System of a Downpour
- Blue (sky)
- The Bleargh, Bleargh, Blearghs
- The Darkness (obviously)
- Puddle of Mudd
- Tornado Amos
- Michael Franti(cally trying to get out of the rain)
- Faith Snow More
Add yours in the comments for this post...
* Don't bother picking me up on the grammar there. I know already. It just fits, ok?
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I got home this evening after a long long day. I was tired, so I did what any good englishman does in such times of great peril and began to make myself a cup of tea.
As I walked into the kitchen however I heard a muffled cry.
Suddenly, it was joined by another cry, and then yet another! Well, I needn't tell you I was by turns shocked and intrigued. The sound appeared to be coming from inside my fridge!
I bent down and put my ear to the fridge door - inside I could hear the muffled sobs of fear, 4 of them, all whimpering away. As I listened I could make out a fifth sound, the sound of evil cackling. Every time its booming voice rang out the other voices cried out in terror!
I could stand it no more. I opened the fridge door. What I saw before me was a sight I'll never forget....
It just goes to show, there's always one bad egg.*
Its just as well I love eggs, or I'd feel guilty about imprisoning the little fellas.
* I apologise. A terrible joke. Its been a looong day.
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Well, yesterday's post about crocodiles seemed to get a few of you riled if the emails we received were anything to go by.
Don't get me wrong, I like crocodiles, but the fact is that if someone I know* is getting chomped by a croc, then I WILL hit it with a baseball bat (although lots of people seem to think it'll have absolutely no effect). Perhaps I should try alternative methods.
So, to prove my otherwise undying love for crocs, here are a few facts about them that you might not be aware of, taken verbatim from the authoritative Crocodillian Captive Care FAQ:- Crocodiles love chutney, to distraction
- Crocodiles can breathe fire, ALL THE TIME
- Crocodiles can link up together to form a massive robot.
- Some crocodiles, especially Caymans, can run at up to 98mph for short periods of time.
- The lips of crocodiles are made of lead.
- The serial number for any given croc can be found at the base of the tale.
- Female crocs use telekinesis to move fish into their mouths, lazy oafs.
- Alligators have an excellent knowledge of multiplication tables, especially the 7 times table.
- Michael J Fox can speak fluent crocodile but is allergic to them, and so has to speak to them through a live video link up.
* apart from Reg. Then I'd cheer the croc on.
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Entry number 11 for the Great Funjunkie Cheese In Trees Competition comes from regular reader and forumite, Poorusher. General comments from our expert panel of judges range from the down to earth:
"I like the fixed expression and the 3 mile stare."
to the more obscure:
"Hey, I ordered a cheeseburger! That's my sodding cheeseburger, you ignorant twunt!"
So anyway, why don't we take a look at these entries before you all fall asleep? I suggest you process these images in the rebigulating machine by clicking on the little blighters.
And the scores? Well our survey said 336,545 for the first, and 384,509 for the strange dog thing, which is nice.
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Ladies and gentleberks, you've made it this far through the week, and now you're sitting comfortably on the nice long gentle slope towards the end of the week that is Downhill Day.
Well done, you deserve a round of applause, because quite frankly, you're awesome.
So the end of the week's in sight, tomorrow is Little Friday (which in reality IS the end of the week), then there's Friday which doesn't count and then the weekend. Woohoo!
So sit back, pretend that you're mouse-clicking on important work things and just enjoy what we've got for you today: a new Cheese In Trees entry, 20 performing Chimpanzillas, an hilarious insight into the complex world of Shrews and this beautiful little 15 second movie, Moth.
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So, today's fiercely* contested debate is:
Could you wound a saltwater crocodile enough to rebutt an attack, armed only with a baseball bat**
The question comes about as a result of the story today about a grannie who jumped onto the back of a croc that attacked a man in Australia, yesterday in a bid to save him.
A crocodile laughs at Reg, yesterday.
Now, it was a very brave thing to do (despite the fact that the croc started dragging her off into the water instead), but it got me thinking, there's no sodding way you'll find me trying to ride a croc in the 10:20 Epsom Derby, so how would I try and save the life of a fella in the midst of a croc attack?
In the absence of a gun, its got to be a log or baseball bat surely? I mean, a spatula's not much cop, and its just going to laugh at a hair-dryer.
Help me out. I can't have problems like this in my head AND remember to breathe at the same time!
* fiercely = not so fiercely
** or large log*** if no baseball bat is at hand.
*** or rolling pin**** if you're indoors and can't find a log.
**** definitely not a slipper though. That'd just be stupid.
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...of course, many of us just consider your humble Lobster to be a tasty infrequent indulgence, with firm tasty flesh.
Well, there's more than meets the eye to this snacky denizen of the water, with its nefarious watery habits...
A report published back in 1961 by the British Government and hushed up under the National Secrets Act has only recently come to light, and we can reveal that your humble Funjunkie has the World Exclusive on what was nearly the most terrifying threat to National Security since Dame Vera Lynn first started wearing spandex.
The 1961 Lobster Threat Report, yesterday.
The report, 965 pages long, talks at length at how 90 million lobsters gathered off the South Coast of England in Autumn 1960 and began to vibrate all at the same frequency. Now one Lobster vibrating isn't going to cause much damage, but 90 million of them can certainly create a vibration of such amplitude that a Tsunami would be created and destroy any town in the UK less than 100ft above sea level. Lethal.
Luckily, we were saved by the timely intervention of Allied Octopi, that decimated the Lobster Battlefleet with their shell crushing beaks and routed the rest with awesomely delivered patriotic anthems.
Quite who taught the Octopi the songs that instilled such fear into their Lobster victims is a mystery to this day, but whomsoever did so, England salutes you sir.
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The last series of Spooks started last night, and by all accounts it was a great start to the new series*. I like the idea of a Bond-esque telly serial. Let's face, it's only a matter of time before I make it as a secret service agent. Just keep it under your hats, alright?
For the mean time, we'll just have to make do with this cracking little spy game direct from those bods at the Beeb.
* Wild and Taz had the remote last night, I had to go and watch buzzcocks in the dungeon with the wombat
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It's been a few days since we've seen a new entry for the Great Funjunkie Cheese In Tree Competition, so we're glad to see that some people have been busy this weekend.
Our first entry this week comes from Han, who's a closet Funjunkie fan. Not that she hides her fandom (Is that a word?), she's a fan of Closet Funjunkie... Funjunkie's sister site about Fashion. I would post a link for you all, but I doubt you'd be all that interested.
The jury is still out on this one* as we've been arguing whether Dairylea triangles actually qualify as real cheese. Click 'em to run each one through the rebigulating machine.
Update: We've finally come up with a total for this entry, which scores a respectable 192704 points, putting Han in... er... a place in the score table, probably.
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I know, I know! It's Monday morning, very booby indeed. Let me guess? You've had your morning work poo, checked your emails, and are now looking for something constructive to do? Well dear child, you've come to the right place!
There's nothing cheers me up more* on a Monday than a damn fine bit of quizzing. The sweet highs, the sour lows. Oh, how I love to quiz...*Ahem* Anyway, how do you know your 90's?
* Apart from watching the wombat tear Reg to pieces**
** He's on holiday this week though, the lazy glibbon
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Welcome gentleslurfers, it'll be Monday then.
You're no doubt holding your head over a strong cup of coffee, wondering why exactly it is that you don't do something much more exciting with your life, like open up a tortoise racing and performance-tuning company.
Yea, pretty much everyone's like that at the moment. Soon the world will be flooded with tortoise racing firms. Its pretty much guaranteed. We won't be able to move for spare shells and racing-tuned reptile-suspension parts.
Let me give you some advice young acolyte: Pies.
Start a pie firm. Make pies.
Everyone loves pies, and the good thing is that they eat them, so sooner or later they're gonna need a new pie and they'll have to buy one off you again.
I'm a business genius me. Always spotting the gap in the market.
So pies it is, the next big thing. And YOU'RE in a prime position to ride the crest of the wave, the Next Generation of Pie Mechanics. Its all very exciting. I can tell you're intrigued.
Sack off your boring desk job NOW! MAKE PIES! You know it makes sense.
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I think my fellow FJ editors think I'm a little bit mysterious*. I'll disappear for long periods of time and only pop up now and then to shout at them for continuing to fail to make any progress on Issue #1 of our famous cutting-edge newspaper**.
Well, I'm going to reveal where it is I go for the first time. The secrets of my disappearances aren't as dark as they might seem, its really quite simple - I like to go for long walks in the countryside.
There. Not so sinister after all.
You see, despite the constant scurrillous, unsuccessful and frankly tedious assassination attempts the rumours of my being an evil mastermind are entirely untrue***.
* I'm pretty sure that's what I heard them call me
** 3 years and not one edition sent to the publishers yet. We're the best unread publication in the cosmos, ever.
*** other non-evil hobbies include knitting sweaters, stroking kittens and nursing injured lambs back to full health.
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You must train hard to be a ninja. It's taken me 28 years of dedication to attain my level of skill. At this point in time, you can only dream of becoming as stealthy as I am.
But I will help you. I will let you into some of the secrets of my training. First, I spent 3 months sweeping the paths at my dojo. Secondly, I carried the water from the stream in buckets twice my size for a whole year. Then, I concerntrated on fanning dogs to safety, while evil doers fired shuriken at them.
Next, I caught flies with chopsticks. And then, after many more years of hard graft, I gained enlightenment and I could start teaching others. One day, if you fan dogs well enough, you maybe as good as my latest protégé. Good luck.
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What have Madonna, Kirsten Dunst, Spike Lee and Ice-T got in common?*
I bet you’d never guess, so stop trying and I’ll tell you.
They’ve all met Jeremy. “Who the hell is Jeremy” I hear you cry. He’s a baby. An ugly as sin baby. An ugly as sin baby with pushy parents. See what he has already achieved, and then weep at your pitiful life in comparison.
Apart from wanting Taz’s autograph.
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now then. If yer feeling proper half penny like, all booby in 'ead n stuff, down't goh down yer Austrian Doctor's surgery.
They 'aaven't a clue what yer bangin on about.
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Wild is feeling a bit ropey this morning; yes that’s a picture of him on the right. He kindly sat and posed for me at the breakfast table, not that he was aware of what was going on. He was just sitting there while I drew him, completely dazed, still recovering from his Little Friday night out on the town.
When I had finished drawing him, he was finally becoming conscious. He explained what the inside of his head was feeling like. It’s not a pretty sight.
Oh well, no doubt he’ll be back on the sauce again this evening, it being FRIDAY and all (woo, yay!).
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Oooh, hoo, hoo!
It seems I've managed to get the first game of Big Friday*! Yeah, who's the fucking daddy now?
Yeah, it's me. So, in my inebriated state I give you Pixel Field.
* Taz, bite me
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My my, it's Little Friday once again. What tremendous news, that means it's time for the ritual Little Friday Funjunkie Band Wagon!
Seeing as it falls to me to select this weeks topic, let's have something that's close to my heart:
Bands That Are Booze, Booze That Are Bands
Here's a few to start you off:- Rick Asti Spumanti
- Jack Black Daniels
- Clare-t from Steps
- Electric Six pack of Grolsch
- Pint of Stone-s Roses
- Giniffer Lopez
- Cream de menthé
- Faith No More Tequila, I'm gonna throw up.
Let the band wagon commence!
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heyyyy, shushhhhh
It's not that bad. There there.
Whu? You're not crying because someone has called Captain Kirk a has been? Oh. Then what are you crying about?
Ah, I see. The onion quiz.
Very well, carry on.
Thanks Trudi, you foxxxy berk
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Well, the talk has started. The rumours are being bandied around with abandon.
Will there be an Xmas party for the UK weblogging scene this year?
Watch this space and remember last year's.
Is it even fair to inflict it on people?
(If anyone has any ideas or would like to help organise or anything else, we need your help!)
UPDATE - I've put a page up here that anyone can edit to jot down ideas about date/venue, or just to register their interest in coming along and partying.
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A little Wednesday afternoon one-liner for you:
"The dodo died. Then Dodi died, Di died and Dando died... Dido must be sh*tting herself."
Never fear Dido, according to these guys it's rapidly approaching doom o'clock anyway, so we're all toast.
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I like a bit of jazz; and I'm not talking about jazz mags, jazz cigs or jazz hands*. I'm talking about the likes of Oscar and Milt**.
I'm also a bit partial to a slice or two of pizza. It was a happy day then, when the owner of the local pizzeria/jazz club came round to FJ Towers. He said:
"You touch my sister again, I'll kill you."
Then he said:
"Reggio, I want you to take over the business. You're a good kid, deep down. Do it."
So I did. I started running the pizzeria/jazz club. Things took off, and now I'm hiring new staff. Come and work for me.
*No comment on whether I like these or not. Especially the HANDS.
**Yes, we are on first name terms.
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'It's a far cry from small boys in the park, jumpers for goalposts. Isn't it? Mmmmm. Marvellous.'
Exactly. What was better than going down the park, sliding in white dog poo, and kicking the crap out of the kids from the next village*? Nothing, that's what. So to bring back those memories, why not have some shooting practice on me. Oh, and here's a little tip, go for just between the legs and watch him suffer.
* That's right Mark Bingley, you got a right fucking hiding.
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Mon Dieu!
We've just received our latest entry for our fantabulous Funjunkie Cheese in Trees Competition, and it's got a slightly French feel to it. Thanks to PieBoy for this ickle beauty:
Click um for Big um
The judges have thought long and hard about it, and given Pieboy a very creditable 213034. Now I can see you all there, sneering and thinking "I can do better than that!"
WELL LET'S SEE IT THEN!, this competition isn't going to last forever you know. Mail us your pictures, post haste.
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At the communal breakfast table this morning, Taz noticed that we were one down. Badger was quick to point out that it was FFS that was missing. Everyone presumed that she was hungover again after another Leibraumilch binge, but we sent the wombat up to her room to check up on her, just in case.
The wombat quickly returned with a note saying that FFS needed a break from Mars, and was taking a week off in Tenerife.
We’re planning a big party tonight to celebrate.
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Lada Raider, a shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist. Michael Knight-ovski, a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless in a world of criminals who operate above the law…
Class mucking around with shit cars. Get the video - here (9Mb)
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Just in case you're strolling around London tomorrow and you fancy taking in Christopher Wrenn's masterpiece, beware of people with bulging bags.
This has been a Funjunkie Health Warning.
UPDATE: Thank you Peanut, appologies for not crediting you to start with
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Funjunkie and ‘Family fun’ don’t usually go hand in hand, but our next Cheese in Trees competition entry proves that it sometimes works. Alan Morris and his son (let’s call him Alan Junior), have double-teamed us with a lovely pair of entries.
Click for Alan Jnr, fullsize
You can just imagine the conversation in the Morris household:
“Here, son. Hold the dog next to this tree while he’s got some cheese in his mouth.”
“But why, Daddy?”
“It’s for Funjunkie.”
“Oh.”
Click for Alan Snr, fullsize
Alan has zoomed to the top of the leaderboard with his great dog entry, while Alan Jnr still has quite a bit to learn from his father.
If you think you or a family member can do better, send us a picture.
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We're a resourceful lot here at FJ. We single handedly inspired the hit TV series MacGuyver - and were actually the technical consultants on the programme.
We invented some of the show's finest gadgetry, such as grenades made from pine cones and orbiting laser-ray satellites made out of a bag of chips, some used disposable contact lenses and a half empty jar of vaseline.
Our greatest invention (being a warship made out of some leaves, over-ripe turnips and drawing pins) was actually commissioned by the Royal Navy, and now serves in the Gulf alongside inferior metal versions. We're very proud.
So when longtime FJ reader Declan Donnelly (from hip beat-combo Ant 'n' Dec) wrote in asking if we could help him recreate his favourite character from Star Wars, Garindan (Long Snoot), we jumped at the chance.
See how versatile over-sized personal massagers can be when used in the right hands - yes, they do have a use other than as simple paperweights!
An uncanny likeness, yesterday
(Clicko make biggo, daddy-o)
Got a request? Send it in and we'll help you out!
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Every morning we spend hours going through the post bags, reading and answering fanmail and requests for Wild to give back the hire car he rented out 2 years ago. Most of the letters are from well meaning people like David Beckham, asking for a signed photograph of Reg posing with the Wombat. Sometimes though, we get post from poor lost souls who need our councelling, or confused teenagers who need help with their GCSE Home Economics revision.
Just call us the Funjunkie Agony Aunt service.
Our toughest question of late was from one young person who wanted to know:
"What's it like in Hell?"
A tough call, but we're not ones to let our fans down so we gave the task to our roving reporter and regular forumite, Ewano.
Full Story >>
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It's the time of year when lots of different World Championships kick off again. Next Sunday the World Conker Championship are being held - you'd be nuts to miss it!
Yesterday saw the final of the World Carrot Pointing Championships. FJ's own Badger Mushroom was crowned UK champ, but Klaus from Bavaria (seen here on his triumphant return to his hometown) was crowned World Champ after a tense 55 minute final.
UPDATE: Ben kindly reminds all potential conker players to wear goggles.
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So, er, like, you're this square man. And you're like, black*.
And there's these other black squares that are just like you dude, only they're all busy busy busy round the screen and some are smaller than you and you're like hungry dude, so you gotta go eat them up man so you can like get all big and fat.
But dude! Watch out! There's like these mean-ass red squares man! And they're totally whacked-out! They hurt you man - bad vibes all over. Stay clear of the red squares man. Bad. Assed. Shit.
Man.
Big props go out to the Channel 4, 4Games Chart, where you can find even more completely spazerific games than the ones we have here today.
* Let's not make this a racial issue, eh? We're all squares man, apart from the circles. They not squares. They don't even have corners! What's that all about?! Stupid circles. Puh.
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One of the most popular* games we've had on Funjunkie in Living Memory** was Defend Your Castle. We still get looooads of enquiries about it which is odd but there you go. The combination of long term strategy and furious mouse-wrecking-button-clicking mayhem quite got many of you all in a flutter***.
Well, the best game ever has just had a makeover.
Demonic Defence 3 includes all your favs from Defend Your Castle (archers etc), but this time you get to battle tanks, angels, UFOs etc, as well as having awesome new spells to play with.
I expect to hear the mouse-clicking of an entire nation of slurfers by lunchtime.
* as in, not competely hated.
** about 7 hours for your average FJ reader
*** leading to several heart attacks amongst our readership - you're not the healthiest lot in the world.
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We don't want to come across as being too narrow minded here at FJ Towers, so it's not all cheese in trees, it's cheese in space too.
If you get bored of that, how about you make friends with our new robot intern. Here's working for us over the next fortnight making the teas. He's got sensitive nipples.
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I'm in a time warp today. I'm back in the eighties, man. I've got The Hip Hop Sound Of New York 81-82 rocking the stereo, I'm knocking back the Fizz Wizz Space Dust like no-one's business and I'm in the arcades with me mate Matthew Broderick playing blocky lo-fi games like R-Shot and Defender.
I've got a pocketful of 10p pieces. I might be here some time.
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Reg has recently been earning a little extra money by giving lessons in Circus skills. It hasn't been going too well though. The majority of his students are under the age of 9, so his method of teaching hasn't been too well recieved, especially by the parents who stayed for the first couple of minutes while he started his first lesson.
Aparently it's not good form to start with:
"Walking a tightrope is a lot like making love to a beautiful woman."
Complaints are still arriving in the post by the bagfull, as are the injury compensation claims, and not just because he's been making the little blighters practice their skills at the local Vulture sanctuary.
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I can see from the look in your eyes that you're a bit knackered this moring. Heavy night was it? Thought so. Big night out, lots of wine drunk, and a stonking hangover to get you started in the morning. We've all been there. It's what Fridays were made for.
That's why the last thing you want now is for us to post some really taxing games. Those sort of games that are simplicity in themselves, and yet so incurably addictive and difficult to complete that you'll be frying your brain all morning trying to get past the first level.
The question is, would we do that to you?
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The Potato
The potato is the national bird of Ireland.
Unreliable Facts from The Brains Trust |
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"Agatha Christie is such a well-known name, her books sell all over the world - and other places as well"
- Michael Grade |
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DeathGob
