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Send us news / links / sites
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We've won the NTK award for "Most unwieldy permalink format 2002/2003"!
I'm so proud, so proud *sniff*.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I'm sorry. This moment is so much bigger than me. This moment is for all webloggers everywhere. It's for my shit permalink colleagues that stand beside me, Taz, Reggio, others of varying quality. And it's for every nameless, faceless permalink of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened. Thank you. I'm so honored. I'm so honored. And I thank the Academy for choosing me to be the vessel for which His blessing might flow.
I always knew we had it in us, but we've never been recognised before. Now everyone is aware of our utmost shite navigationalismness. Its a triumph.
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Everybody's favourite British Tennis playing zombie is on the warpath. Killed by a giant flying jellyfish and then resurrected through a freak accident after being buried just outside Sellafield, Tim Henman is hell-bent on avenging his death.
Tim is of course a rather famous sports person and has an instantly recognisable face, even if it is now a little tinged with the Green of the Undead*. Sightings are being regularly made all across the south coast. The last reported position of Tim was about 2 hours ago, when he was seen throttling the life out of a group of cuttlefish under the Brighton pier.
Funjunkie are now setting up a 24 hour** monitoring centre of Tim Henman's whereabaouts. If you see him, please send in photographic evidence to the usual address.
Tim celebrating his latest aquatic slaughter, today.
*Available in both matt emulsion and exterior emulsion from the Dulux range.
**Apart from weekends and weekdays.
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I don't mean to cause mass shopping panic, but I'd just like to point out that Monday is the start of December. That means we'll soon be kicking off the Funjunkie Advent calendar!
Every week day we'll be posting a picture of one of our loyal FJ followers being sexy/stupid/wierd/funny (sometimes all four). There are still a few days missing, so remember to send a picture in for your guaranteed 15 seconds of fame.
Here's a sneak preview of the lovely TearyEyedSniper:
This isn't one of the ones selected for the calendar, but she showed a lot of dedication, spending two hours taking pictures for us. I'm not suggesting you do the same, I did mine in about 30 seconds.
See you Monday (unless I spill your drink at the webloggers party).
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Right, this is the last time I'm going to mention it, apart from to explain things to the police later on on Saturday night.
Tomorrow night (Saturday 29th November) is the UK Webloggers' Xmas Party. If you have a weblog, and you're in the UK - then you're soooo invited that its unreal.
Don't be shy - no-one knows anyone, but we're all really nice and won't bite. So turn up for Xmas stylee drinking, chatting and dancing, really dancing!
Details of location etc are here.
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There's a lot of rubbish spouted in the FJ forums. Everyday there's a barrage of nonsense and abuse. Thankfully we can now translate some of the highlights into cartoon form for ease of use.
Take for example classic threads such as Meeting Munky, CB buddies, or even Bored.
There's nearly limitless fun to be had. Thanks to the mighty PlasticBag for ruining all chances of finding you more games to play.
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Scene: Games pitch meeting
"What you have to do is get a ball to roll to the bottom of a series of short planks. The clever thing is, there are lots of holes for the ball to fall into. You take control of a set of pinball style flippers which act as bridges over said holes. But wait, there's more. You get lulled into a false sense of security, and then... another ball get's released!"
"What? No one's going to play that! Are they?
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ok, ok, so this should have been posted ages ago back during Halloween, but I was in Italy and reg and Taz were shit.
You have their profuse apologies. Still, today's first Funjunkie Friday Game is a good'un. You're a witch who needs to make some child stew, only you've gone and run out of children. Go and grab some more and stick em in the pot!
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Hello! This isn't your first FJ friday game calling, but it's still a lot of fun! Whoop! Smash the skins on this shiny drum kit, making sure you do it right next to someone who was out late last night. I know at least 11 people who should have hangovers today*, this one goes out to them!
Tut Tut Clat
Tut Tut Clat
Bigga digga boom
*they haven't showed up on the forums yet, so it's looking good... or bad
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Rich was dissapointed yesterday after the Tim Henman story appeared to come to a dramatic conclusion, but was that really the end?
Find out in the next instalment of The day Tim Henman rose from the grave to declare war on Kalamari
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Mobile phones are the sourge of modern day life. They are evil, uncool, sad, annoying, and downright ridiculous.
Now you know the type of person that's really annoying with mobiles - the sort of person who would drop any real-life conversation with you to answer their phone. The sort of person that messes around with their ring tones throughout the whole of a train journey. The sort of person that turns up at a pub and the first thing they do is start showing off about the features on their new phone.
Despite these tossers still evading public execution, mobile phones ARE incredibly useful in the hands of those that would use them as a force for good.
Funjunkie's own Reg is one of the very last people in Western society to not own a mobile phone. Its incredibly annoying. You can't phone him to tell him you'll be late to the pub, he can't phone you to ask how to get there whilst en-route. You can't text him at 3am with annoying messages etc - I mean, just how selfish is he being?
Luckily for us, Reg has momentarily lowered his guard and announced that he'll buy a phone if we can get 1000 signatures on a petition. We need him to get one so we can send him abuse and stuff. Please sign our petition - you're our only hope.
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Here's one for the PC purists:
Right then, off you pop over to royalty free image database Stock.Xchng and do a search for 'Apple Mac'.
What image do we get back?
 The Results for a search for 'Apple Mac', yesterday |
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The Funjunkie Horseshoe of Purity has hit its first patch of controversy!
I was attempting to place the ex-host of Catchphrase, Roy Walker, onto the Horseshoe but it proved extremely difficult.
You never knew much about the man himself, which would tend to put him towards Indifference, but then I got to thinking that well, it was just a gameshow and it kinda kept people amused and he did it so enthusiastically that perhaps he should be pushed up and left into Good.
But then I got thinking, yea, but the show was so bad it was evil, so perhaps he should go into either Good-Evil or Evil-Good.
It was only when forum regular BadgerMushroom told this story that he finally got the ranking of Evil-Good, right next to Jeremy Beadle:
"Many years ago when I was a wee nipper back home, there was a bar/restaurant/club/hotel that was situated across the road from my house (it's gentrified hoi-polloi flats now). They used to book entertainers every so often, with one of them happening to be...Roy Walker.
The night that RW was doing his thang my mum was working behind the bar. Near the end of the night my mum had to go and use the ickle girls room (as is the prerogative of all mum's - everywhere). As she opened the door to the toilets, who should she see but Roy Walker, having a piss in the sink. Dirty bastard, in the ladies as well!"
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Is it just me, or is allowing callers to decide what ring tone plays on your phone when they call a really bad idea?
Knowing me, and I know there are people like me, I'm gonna really annoy everyone I call by forcing them to listen to Aqua ringtones, or the tweenies.
And they won't be able to stop it. And I'll keep calling, and calling, and calling, until I have no friends left.
Then I'll go out and make some more, just to annoy them too.
I'm nice like that.
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Finally - after year's of fruitless searching through remote desert settlements, bombed out towns, remote Andean mountain ranges, we;ve finally, finally, found someone as insane and single-mindedly driven as Manic over at Bloggerheads.
After starting to think his 1year+ obsession with one picture was becoming a little unhealthy, it turns out that there's another soul, just as lost and struggling as he is.
Head on over to Pelezinho and laugh at the man's obsession with a single photo of Pelé. Then laugh a little more. Then start getting worried. Then phone a reputable Doctor.
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Yesterday our cliff-hanger left you on the edge of your swivel chairs, with Tim Henman facing swathes of superfast jellyfish flying at him across the court. Thousands* of you have written in begging us to give you the dramatic conclusion to this harrowing tale. Is Tim doomed to be flattened by a Man-O-War travelling at twice the national speed limit? Or will his cunning and charisma shine through and win the day, just like on the courts of Wimbledon? There's a clue in that somewhere...
Let's find out in the final instalment of The day Tim got flattened by a huge jellyfish**
*none.
**Catchy title, I'm sure you'll agree.
Full Story >>
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Good and Evil. I've spent a while* thinking about it recently.
'Good' is said to be pure and whole, isn't it? Evil, as its counterpart, is said to be pure and whole also. As in there's nothing that represents the concept of evil better than the word 'evil'.
But, and aye, here's the rub, people describe things to be really good and fantastically good don't they? So how can good be pure if really good is more good than good?
The only way it makes sense is if good actually isn't pure, but has some evil in it. Whoah. Now we're mixing things up!
But this makes sense. When was the last time that someone described as good actually actually gave you the willies? I mean, they're a bit sinister aren't they?
Now this got the FJ community to thinking - "What's the shape of this relationship between good and evil then?"
If the gooder you get, the more evil is contained within, and the eviler you get the gooder you are, then there comes a point whereby good and evil start looking to intersect. We're therefore looking at a horseshoe shape.
Hence The Great Funjunkie Horseshoe Of Purity was born. Seeing as we're obsessed with celebs at the moment, we started to chart where various celebs or characters should be placed around the horseshoe.
Tell us who you want placed on it, and where!
* as much as 5 minutes now.
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Ick. I hate the sound of kitsch terms such as 'BlogDay'.
Anyway, Congratulations! Rejoice! Today marks the anniversary of Richard Herring's first year of webloggery! And very funny it has been too!
Huh? What's this? He's a bit grumpy about it all? Bah. Get on over there and cheer up old Somerset-Chops up. String up some party decorations. Put some Cliff Richard on the jukebox. Perhaps offer him a sausage on a cocktail stick.
No hang on, remember he's obsessed with cocks. He might think that you were threatening him with a scale model of what you might do to him. Or something.
Still, Happy Weblog Day Richard!
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For a weblog with with several 'editors', none of which live or work in London, we've got an unhealthy fixation with the tube.
This could be put down to the fact that whenever we do get to travel on the Underground, we take great pleasure pressing our sweaty bodies against unsuspecting Spanish girls with large rucksacks*. And getting away with it. Most of the time.
We'll all be trying our luck again this Saturday when we congregate for the first annual UK Webloggers 'Watch Reg get drunk' party.
Oh. I nearly forgot to cleverly slot in my link to some 3D tube maps into this post. Feel free to re-write it and send it back to us.
*The girls have the rucksacks, not us
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Consider if you will, the plight of Tim Henman. Forced, through no fault of his own into making budget cuts, he can no longer afford to buy Kwik Save's own brand of oven chips. Instead he must cut his own potatoes. Unfortunately he's been unable to buy any spuds of late, but due to the unseasonably warm climate an influx of jellyfish have been washing up on his private beach every day.
This gives rise to an interesting concept... Jelly chips. Tim knows that slicing up jellyfish with a knife is likely to get him stung, so instead he dreams up a cunning ploy. He empties a sack of freshly collected jellyfish into the hopper of his Tennis Ball practice machine, runs to the other side of the court and gets ready with racquet in hand. The idea being to hit flying jellyfish (travelling at 140mph), they will shred through the strings and come out the other side as jelly chips.
Genius.
Suddenly it dawns on Tim that 140 mile-per-hour jellyfish is not such a great idea. Jellyfish are flying at him one after another and the only thing he can do is to crouch and let fly with the racquet.
140 mile-per-hour jellyfish... think about it!
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We've been racking our brains here at FJ Towers to come up with some good party games for this saturday. So far we've come up with 'Pin the tail on George Why pick on me? Bush', 'Hunt the WMD' and 'Pass the parcel (full of anthrax)'.
Have we fuck.
It's more like 'drink the bottle of Cachaca 51', 'dance like a twat to Club Tropicana' and 'shake your hot white coconuts of love at the barmaid' (albeit in a friendly, childlike way). See you there!
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Everyone knows that monkeys should only be enslaved when there is a genuine pressing need to solder wiring and cybernetic implants into their brains and train them up to be robot ninjas. Everyone knows that.
If we just went around enslaving monkeys on this whim or that ill-conceived use, then we'd shortly end up with a million confused and angry monkeys, which is no good to man or beast alike. Indeed, the treatment of monkeys even when turning them into militant death cyborgs should be regulated. I should have them, and everyone else should not.
Fortunately, the world's scientists are years behind me in my research, and this puts me in the aforementioned position of being the primate (ha, just my little joke there, sorry) authority on such electric simian warriors.
Unfortunately, there are still those that attempt to enslave monkeys towards their own devices. These people must be stopped. Even if they do like monkeys.
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We've had a bit of fun in the forums with coming up with drinks that we think famous people or characters would drink - before we stumbled on cocktails that celebs would drink. Here are a few:Cheap shots I know. Anyone got any more?
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I never would have thought that the humble comic strip could be responsible for so much debate. Look at Garfield... never one to take on the minefield of politics or tackle difficult social subjects. We never had any reason to discuss The Beano beyond taking the piss out of the kid at the back of the class who looked like Plug.
But it seems that in later life, comics take on a different meaning.
"Dilbert displays that despite the best efforts of the individual, working within the system will inevitably wear you down and that only by preserving a sense of humor can you hope to survive it all. He displays hope. He should be commended."
This could get ugly.
Of course, everybody knows that Catbert is the star and Dogbert blows goats!
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You know, if some skateboard using little punk whizzed past me and chucked sweets at me, I'd run after the little bastard and beat the crap out of the twunt.
An niceish 4-minute type of distraction, Skittles Race is a Paperboy-style isometric scroller that has you annoying the general public and wasting your pocket money at the same time, whilst tearing down the sort of street that'd have residents writing nasty letters to the council. Honestly, you'd never get a car down there - the place looks like a city riot has just run through it. Why are the people smiling? They should be thinking of their house prices plummeting, as well as coming up with methods to exact their revenge at being smacked in the eye with a small hard sugar pellet.
Bah. Yet another game fails in the reality stakes. Skittles Street Race. Play it, if you don't care about such things.
Meanwhile, I'm off to write a letter to Capcom about the unfeasibility of Blanka in Street Fighter. Come to think of it, 2 plumber brothers jumping on angry militant mushrooms? Its enough to give me indigestion. Where's Super StockBroker 4000? Or Granny Wheelchair Simulator 4?
Thanks to FJ reader Frank for sending that one in.
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We've had a number of problems with the Wombat here at Funjunkie Towers recently. The most annoying of which is his tendency to knock the phone off its table and start randomly pressing digits.
We've had several bills from the phone company for hundreds of pounds, only to find that the major portion of them were 4 hour, long distance calls do New Zealand.
What we really can't fathom is how he managed to order 12 large Pepperoni pizzas and 2 garlic breads, last wednesday. I mean typing in the number's one thing, but the rest???
The final straw was the three police cars, two fire engines and a paramedic helicopter that turned up this morning, after the little blighter dialed 999. Aparently they had come to eat the salmon sanwiches.
"My wife's left me two salmon sandwiches which was left over from last night... and I'm a sat in the chair here and she's out there decorating. She won't put any food on or anything for anybody, I don't know what...."
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A potentially slow news day here at Funjunkie Towers may well have been avoided due to the investigative powers of Curls.
So bored was she of reading through the endless suppply of wholesale Toilet catalogues that seem to turn up at our poostbox, that she decided to find the ultimate Porcelain bus on the interwebnetwork superhighway. Unfortunately, the information superhighway infrastructure building project has been scrapped recently due to lack of funds, so Curls found herself hanging from the precipice at the end of the web by her fingernails.
She struggled back up and retraced her steps to the Google crossroads, and quickly found the web's very own Urinal Mecca. Remember kids, it might be piss poor but its definitely not crap!
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Yes, yes, output from your favourite crap weblog FJ is rather slow at the moment. But we have an excuse! We're currently running round like silly arses trying to organise us some accommodation for the UK webloggers' party this weekend, as well as trying to arrange some of the finer details.
You'd think that would be bad enough, but we still have to deal with the wombat demolishing one of our typing pools and the mystery of the missing milk from the fridge has got Reg all worked up. He's currently pacing up and down the room interviewing everyone about their tea-drinking habits over the last few days Clouseau-stylee.
He'll never find out that I poured the entire lot down the drain needlessly just to keep him busy for a while.
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Whaddya mean it's not friday?!?
Damn. Monday it is then. I've only got to hold out for a few more days, and then I can impress the rest of the UK blogging world with my fantastic dancing prowess.
In the meantime, I'm going to run around a small maze dropping firebombs next to handily deformable rocks in an attempt to destroy my enemy. In a kind of bomberman styling.
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A general reminder to all and sundry that the UK Webloggers' Xmas Party 2003 will take place at Downstairs at the Well, nr Farringdon Tube (map), London this Saturday 29th November at 7ish.
There'll be Xmas frolics aplenty with all of your fav UK webloggers! Be there!
Remember, if you have a weblog, and you're in the UK - then you're invited!!! We want you there!
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You may or may not remember last week's game finding experiments. I think we can all agree that the success was unmeasurable.
So useful was Curls' input last Friday, that I've decided to run through the whole experiment one more time with only a few minor changes. Basically, instead of ingeniously trying to get Curls to give me a word without knowing what the purpose is, I've ditched with the sneaky bit altogether. Is this a cunning new twist, carefully devised by the mastermind that is Taz?
Well no.
"For fuck's sake, try Paper Aeroplane!", said Curls after I complained about not being able to find a game.
So I shut up and got to work. Hours* I've slaved over a hot Google... hours**! And what have I found? What have I found???
Not much
*About 30 seconds.
**More accurately, about 26 seconds.
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You know what? I've never been a fan of trampolines. Oh sure, they look all fun and bouncy, but they're lethal. I learned from an early age that if you twat your coccyx hard enough on the edge of a trampoline, it really fucking hurts.
So be warned. It's only funny until someone get's hurt. And then it's just hilarious.
Twang!
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In an attempt to find a fitting news article to answer Reg's question about GWB's famous Pretzel incident, I wandered over to the beeb, only to be greeted with the immortal words:
That's right kids. Auntie doesn't care how young or strapped for cash you are... Get your hands in you pockets and give them your last fluff-covered penny sweets and that Beano comic, or else!
Joking aside though, it is a good cause, so here's the link for you big kids to go to and throw in a couple of quid.
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I can't get enough of the science involved in working out what happened in the Kennedy Assassination.
If you've never seen the fatal (and rather grisly) footage of the bullet entering and exiting Kennedy's head - then you'll find it, and some theory behind the shooting over on The Copydesk
Not very Friday game-ish, but what the hell.
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ok, ok, I know that Reg posted my attempt at the Funjunkie Friday game this time last week. Grrr.
I can't be expected to know every one of the 2825 posts we've done since FJ started, can I?
Goddamn it people! I'm fallible! *
How can I make it up to you? Hmmmmm. Yes, yes I know - how about a game where you're a small circular thing with a mouth that wants to eat much bigger things, but only if they're happy? Big grumpy things are no good - they taste bad. And Angry things are downright poisonous.
Surely that's obvious to someone like you? Don't you experience these things in everyday life?
No?
What are you? Normal?
* But infallibly so.
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Have you ever gone to the throne room and thought "I can get away with a sneaky piss", just to return to your desk to find out that you do actually need a pooh?
I have
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Before George Wot no photo opportunities? Bush flies in over the Tyne and the Geordies get their chance to start Chasing Bush, let us take a breather with Funjunkie's next (Topical) Friday game.
Its dinner time and Dublyah is hungry. What's on the menu in Sedgfield today? Why, its GWB's favourite mid afternoon snack: Pretzels!
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Cor blimey, I wish I could have an holiday.
Wait, I have an idea! Why don't you guys club together and buy me a couple of tickets somewhere nice? No? Heck. You're a stingey bunch sometimes.
Hang on, I have another plan! Why don't you vote for me in round two of the Sexy Gamer competition instead? That way you don't have to part with you well earned cash, and I have the chance of going on holiday for nowt. Or at least a trip to the big smoke if I get into the grand finals.
If you do take the time and effort, then how about you vote for FJ regular Leeloo as well? I'm sure she's far more to your liking.
You're not going to hear this very often from me, so listen up: thanks.
p.s. You don't have to trawl through hundreds of pictures now, so you've got not excuse for not voting!
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Here at Funjunkie Towers we're no strangers to random amusing video clips. Our inboxes are filled every morning with the usual emails that seem to pass around the world faster than Beckham rumours*.
The latest animation doing the rounds is a rather hefty movie of a hippo singing The Lion sleeps tonight, or In the Jungle, or Awimoweh or whateverthehell you want to call it.
All well and good, but we, the lovely people of Funjunkie, don't like posting links to downloads without giving credit to the authors. Fortunately for you, our crack team of international intelligence spies have tracked down the source and found loads more animations at The Pings.
Only one problem now... we're going to need a bigger boat er, connection!
*This is not strictly true. The speed of spread of a Beckham rumour can rarely be measured since it accelerates logarithmically. The fastest recorded Beckam rumour to date was measured by a Traffic policeman last year. It was doing over 12 times the speed of light down the M1 past Trowell services.
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Some people, eh? Someone starts up a completely innocent thread in the forums entitled 'I'm having a fag'. Nothing wrong with that. A few 'funny' pictures of the FJ regulars 'having a fag' then get posted. Then this turns up in my inbox:
 They're having a fag. In their undies
Would someone please explain this? In fact don't bother. Just get me a cold shower.
Read the rest of the thread (and see a bigger version of the picture) here.
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You know how it is. You're absent mindedly searching around the web for something innocuos, something mundane, like How to make a bomb.
You go to Google, type in your search terms and start clicking on the results. Three hours later, after you've finally closed the last of the pop-up adverts, pictures of scantilly clad llamas and offers to install viruses on your PC, you finally realise your mistake... You must have made a spelling error in your search terms.
Oh yes, now you see it. Instead of typing in "How to make a bomb", you accidently miss-spelled it and typed in "Women in rubber nurse outfits". It's a simple mistake... we've all done it.
Full Story >>
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Thanks to the numinous power of the New Comments page, we can keep a sly track of what's still rumbling away within the depths of the FJ archives.
You may know by now that we attract a high class of clientele with our incisive reportage. We also get a lot of twats. Twats who just won't let it lie. The Blondes vs Brunettes thread is now officially longer than Dr Who's scarf, and it's all quality discusion.
There are only a few soundbites that I can quote here on the front page, as a lot of it is unneccassarily aggro, but of the 'clean' talk, here are a few of my favourites:
"BRUNETTES HAIR LOOKS LIKE IT BELONGS ON THE ASS OF A BUFFALO!"
"If the girl's face is busted, it don't matter what her hair color is."
And the scathing: "Blondes doesn't know how to dance"
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Before you read any further, stop for a second. Get up, and walk to your nearest mirror. Take a good look at yourself.
You're blonde. You're not very clever. You dance round your handbag in nightclubs. You know, in fact, it wouldn't be rude of me to say that you were in fact a bit of an Air Head. All bimbo looks and vacant eyes.
Beat 215. Avoid the bogey clouds.
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The Moon died last night.
A brief triumphant struggle, a blaze of glory, and then a sad end. It was the briefest of lives, but a beautiful one.
Now its just a hunk of dead rock again. Pity, really.
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We've had thousands of emails* asking when the FJ Spork Photo Competition is due to close. Well, it was going to be the end of this week, but in usual FJ style, it's been delayed.
Wildo has been too busy chasing skirt, sorry, Bush to buy the prizes (toffee what-nots, and parma-violets), I've been sweeping up leaves, and Taz is still on the loo. The word on the street is that there's now a mid-december closing date. It'll be before christmas at least. So if you haven't entered... err, spork it out.
 An entry, recently
*Most of them offering viagra
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British comedy is rather like making love to a beautiful woman. You get great shags over and over, then when she pops her clogs, everybody wants a go.
Hang on, that's not right.
The wonder of British comedy gone by. Think back to when we had only 4 channels on the telly... only 3 even. (Sorry kids, you're going to be lost on this one.)
You could harp on for hours about the genius of the likes of Tommy Cooper, Morcambe and Wise, Kenny Everett and Les Dawson. Cult status, the lot most of them.
Try to remember, if you will, the bizarre world of Benny Hill and his "Ernie", who Drove the fastest milk cart in the west.
We've found his transport.
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We're all going to have a shit day today.
No, it's not because Britain has been invaded by everybody's favourite psychopath, George Why are they shouting at me? Bush.
No, it's not because today is Wednesday instead of one of those lovely weekend days.
No, it's not because the roof has started leaking and your favourite pair of shoes got eaten by the dog.
It's not even because of the fat bastard who sits behind you work, making those slurping noises while he gets through a 4lb bag of gobstoppers.
None of the above...
It's because today is World Toilet Day! Go forth and spread the word shit.
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Three things that you didn't know about Richard E. Grant:
1) He came from the past to destroy the future.
2) He actually died while drinking meths in the famopus scene in Withnail and I. He was replaced by that annoying bloke in the Argos adverts shortly afterwards.
3) The 'E' stands for 'Engaged'. He was born in a public lavatory in West Yorkshire.
3.1) He's the new arch-nemesis of the daleks.
N.B. Some of the above facts have yet to be verified.
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Here's a stealthy plan to knock you cluelessly into a cocked hat at the simple flick of a button. Give you a game on a day that isn't friday, and one that's bloody odd to boot!
Take control of Steven Hawking in his hot air balloon, and drive down to Cash Converters to trade it in for a couple of XXX rated pron DVD's. Bugger, I've lost the link to that one. You'll have to get confused, but with delightful music, while playing Warp Invaders instead.
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Somebody told me that its your birthday today. It is, isnt it? Isnt it? No? Ah fuck!
And after I organised all these famous singers to turn up and serenade you.
I expect now you'll be telling me that your nickname's not really Fish Face!
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"The early bird gets the worm, but look what happens to the early worm" Alfred E. Neuman
This of course has nothing to do with the subject of my first post of the morning... or does it?
No really, does it? I forget.
Aside from that, there's nothing more appealing in the morning than getting that first cup of coffee, taking a seat in front of the glowing box*, and finding some seriously wierd WhatTheFuckIsGoingOn type of game.
If you do work out WhatTheFuckIsGoingOn, please let us know by sending a postcard with a cheque for £35.99 to Funjunkie Towers, England. No postal orders please.
*No, the one with a keyboard.
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George W. Bush lands in London tomorrow for a week's worth of phoney PR - an opportunity for him to spin out the lie that Britain is happy to serve the States in any way possible.
Unfortunately, he'll be moved around London cloak and dagger style to avoid the real angry masses and any adverse effect that photos of them might cause his administration's PR ratings...
Don't let it happen, help the world know that we're angry about this! Head on over to our Bush Location Portal and tell us where he is! Take photos using your cameraphones, send us your text messages and get involved! Chase Bush!
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Sandwiches. Work of genius. Where would we be without them?
Its not for nothing that sandwiches have become the defacto food of the world*. No, the common sandwich is a work of triumph - a synergistic communion of bread-related product and friendly fillings that powers the majority of the world's lunches.
Feel the awesome power of this invention as layers of freshly buttered bread gently ensconce a slightly nervous slice of cheese. Oooooh!
Gasp in astonishment as these same yeasty duvets lovingly caress sliced naked chicken with sexy pickle adornment, or as they ironfistedly grip a misbehaving sliced tomato and basil leaf combo.
Let's hear it for sarnies! Sarnies rule!
(unless you're on the Atkins Diet, in which case, can you get anything for lunch? No you buggeringly well can't - its all sandwiches, sandwiches flaming sandwiches. Good lord I'm dying from sandwich boredom! What happened to steak? sausages? fondue for lunch? Huh? You answer me that.)
* This has been a Funjunkie Genuinely Unresearched Fact
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Those of you who have been reading Funjunkie for more than 5 minutes, will know that we have several idols. At the moment Domokun is off travelling around the world, and David Hasselhoff is out in Germany giving the the Hamburg WI ladies a little something to go in their Christmas stockings.
But the brains behind the whole operation, Professor Stephen Hawking, has been, for want of a crapper pun, left behind the whole operation. Stephen has been out of pocket ever since the wombat ate his wallet here at FJ towers, and therefore couldn't afford to go on holiday. So strapped for cash is the world's greatest mind, that he's resorted to giving up his favourite pasttime and he's selling his Hot air balloon basket.
We know that you, the FJ readers are all rolling in it. Put your hands in your pockets (no, not for that) and help out if you can. Thanks.
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It seems that most US magazines must have a "Swimsuit Edition" every now and again, which aparently originated in Sports Illustrated (a magazine about pigeon farming, which has a distinct lack of illustrations).
Not to be outdone, Bulldog magazine (a magazine for truckers*), have gone one step further than the average rag by letting readers loose on the front page on their swimsuit edition. Don't worry though, it's not the overweight, sweaty, baseball cap and body warmer wearing Joe who's going to get his man baps out, but we all get to decide which of these beauties grace the cover.
(Note: Perfectly safe for work.)
*Replace consonants for genuinely hilarious results.
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Welcome to Monday. If you've never been to a Monday before, please be patient while we go through the safety tutorial.
In event of an emergency, the exit can be found through one of the following:- Sleeping tablets
- Copious quantities of alcohol
- A frying pan bashed over the head
If you feel faint or find it hard to breathe, please put your head between your legs, hands over ears, and then kiss your arse goodbye. You're done for!
Today we shall be flying for another 12 hours at approximately 54 metres above sea level. The flight should last until just before midnight.
If you get a little bored through the journey, please look under your seat for Zefrank's little Racing game. This should keep you occupied for a while.
We are sorry for any delay. Have a nice flight.
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Attempt number 2.
A new idea sprang to mind after I learned the definition of a noun for what must be the thousandth time. Such are the pleasures of having a 3 second memory.
A new idea sprang to mind after I learned the definition of a noun for what must be the thousandth time. Such are the pleasures of having a 3 second memory.
...sorry.
Full Story >>
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Thankfully I don't have a little helper called Curls to help me choose crappy games. I simply unleash my crack team of sniffer wombats onto the interweb. Unfortunately, they sniffed my crotch just before they leapt onto the layby, so all they unearthed was a pants game.
Next time I'll take a wash before the unleashing. Wild will have to remove his stray pubes from the soap first. I'm not touching that, even with a barge pole. Unless it was one of those barge poles that had a pube extrator on the end. We had one of those, but I think it fell down the back of the sofa. Maybe I'll take a look there and see if it turns up.
Button. 5p coin. Fluff. Nah, someone's half-inched it. Buggers.
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Never trust a non-funjunkie editor to do a funjunkie editor's job. In a vain attempt to offset a large proportion of the taxing work I have to do for you, our favourite funjunkie readers, I asked Curls for a random word. The theory being that I would find a game based on the topic given.
The rules of this game are few and simple, but I can't be arsed to list them, so I'll just give you the abridged version.
"Cheesecake!" was the cry from the far end of my shoebox office.
"Oh fuck!" was the immediate thought that sprang to mind. What are the chances of finding a flash game on the internet, based on Cheesecake? I set to the task in hand, determined not to fail you all.
I failed.
Come on people! Cheesecake! Cheesecake??? It's not fucking likely is it?
As a small compensation for my complete and utter failure to deliver, here's a cheese related game with no sign of any confectionary items whatsoever.
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If you're new to us here at Funjunkie, then you won't know that Friday is games day here at FJ HQ. If you're a regular, then you'll know that I'm getting one up on Taz by posting the first one of the day. Get in there!
Hopefully Taz will be able to enjoy this UFO rally as much as the rest of you, because I think he'll be able to identify with the main character and complex sub-plotting. And the not bashing into walls.
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Due to massive amounts of pressure from all of us at FJ Towers, RI:SE have reinstated Zora's cleavage to help her with the news:
 Zora, this morning
And while on the subject of cleavage, someone mentioned that our article in the current Webuser mentioned something about boobies. I didn't know about that, since I forgot to pick up my copy yet. My memory is as good as a gold... what was I talking about? Ah yes, the wonderful world of FJ Cleavage. Some of it's work safe, some of it isn't. And before we get any complaints from the ladies, there's a (strangely less popular) fellas version too.
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Wild has riled the congregation at the local church with his blasphemous comments about Guinness in the last post.
We can't go down to the corner shop any more without being chased by the blue rinse brigade, waving their zimmers at us. We're down to the emergency milk. Taz says it's UHT milk, but quite frankly it tastes like watered down tippex. It's that bad. If anyone feels like popping round with supplies, you'll be met with open arms. And empty mugs. But not an angelic choir.
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For years I've been trying to keep up with advice that a quarter of an aspirin a day is a good thing for you - preventing blood clots and performing other minor medical miracles.
The problem is, its such a boring task in the morning that no wonder I always forget to do it.*
But lo! What's this? A star in the East? The sign that Christ walks amongst us again?
Nah, much much more important than all that codswallop - its official: Guinness is Good for you!
Apparently it has the same effect as taking the Aspirin, and its also a lot more fun. All we need to hear now is that smoking and eating kebabs are excellent for brittle bones and we'll be right slap bang in the middle of Woody Allen's 1973 film Sleeper - where carrots and other vegetables are outlawed as being bad for you, but vices are great for you.
* In fact, I've never remembered to do it. Not once. Just goes to show: You should never thread a bird through the eye of the tiger to spoil the broth.
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We're on the telly again! No really, look at the picture.
Okay then, we're in a magazine that's resting on the telly. Happy now? Bloody Killjoys.
Anyway the point is we're almost famous, but without Kate Hudson, which is a bit of a shame really. Blame Wild for that... she was going to come to FJ Towers but he set up some more booby traps at the main gate last week. The firemen said they'd have her bra free by next thursday.*
Go out to the shop (no, not that shop... the other one without the dildos), buy yourself a copy of Webuser and turn to page 16 for a jolly good read. Ooh, get me another packet of Skittles while you're out. There's a good chap!
*I sincerely apologise for the crap "Booby" joke.
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Yay! We have final confirmation of the Weblogging party of the century! (they were a bit limp back in the 1920's)
On Saturday 29th November, you, yes YOU, must be at Downstairs at the Well (location map), in London EC1 for the UK Weblogger's Xmas Bash!
All your favourite webloggers will be there, including me of course (ahem) - so if you reside in the UK and you keep a weblog/online diary/e-journal then we want you there for fun, frolics, tinsel, baubels, snogs, sulks, chicks and hulks.
That's what it says in the ingredients anyway.
I've setup a special forum for you to discuss travel/accomodation (bunk up with a weblogging compadre)/misc, and there's also talk on the UK weblogging mailing list. So get involved - we want YOU there!
Oh, and if you could blog about this so that other UK webloggers get to see it, then you're doing yourself and everyone else a favour! A party-full of people is good!
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Hurrah, for its that time of year,
When Santa comes and takes off fear,
And in place leaves behind a fantastic gift,
That'll give you and your elves a jolly old lift.
For those clever bods at Thinkblank are back,
Over their shoulders a bulging sack,
Of gifts for you and for your kin,
All you have to do is go and sign in!
And when you're done you'll get a mail,
Saying "hey there you, off to the sale,
And go buy someone a wicked prez,
In return listen to what Santa says -
Young Blogger, my thanks, on this Noel,
You've been kind and I shall ring my bell,
A gift for you is on its good way
Hopefully with you before the Christmas Day."
Secret Santa, from ThinkBlank, now in its 3rd year, and blooming marvellous it is too.
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What’s the manliest thing possible for a bloke to do? Is it rescuing a damsel in distress from a burning tower? Is it fighting a rhino with your bear hands? No, it’s neither of those. It’s something far tougher and masculine. It’s building a shed.
Full Story >>
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Now Wild's back, what's the quickest way to piss him off? How about I steal some of his spork thunder, and post this great entry into our competition:
 Tanya, recently
Some of you other kids have been snapping away too. We've got more entries into beard idol (even though no one is sure of the rules). FJ sponsored sexy gamer Leeloo has entered another picture for you to vote for, and last but not least, the call for advent calendar pictures is coming on a treat...
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Yay! I'm back! Ah, its nice to be sitting in my evil comfy chair, watching the usual daily chaos of Taz and Reg attempting to coax the wombat out of the fridge so they can get some milk for the tea without losing a limb.
I've had the last 2 days off sleeping to recover from my little jaunt into the netherworld. I think its worked. No longer am I dreaming of being overtaken by irate Italian truck drivers, or of 2am roadside repairs. No, I'm back to the normality of dreams involving Kylie asking me what room number I'm in, and will I mind awfully if she were to sneak in wearing the nurses outfit.
Of course I refuse, but she can be a stubborn antipodean minx at the best of times.
So, in the real world, cheers for Taz and Reg for holding the fort, which they did jolly well I thought (your mileage may differ).
I've only got 2000 emails + 652 posts in the forums to sort through now (you've all been a busy bunch of bees haven't you?) - and then I should get round to sorting you out some grade A linkage. Spork photos have been received and will be added - as well as the small matter of my own Sporkification triple whammy to arrive very shortly now.
So, its nice to be back. I've missed you all (apart from you, specifically).
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Who would have thought I would be able to defy the laws of physics by entering a 'Sexiest Gamer' competition? Not me, but it's happened. The universal law of what goes up must come down* has been disproved!
Although my score has diminished (from a respectable 3.0 to a weakling 2.9), my ranking has risen two places, and I am now currently third. FJ Regular Leeloo is still riding high at number two in the ladies section.
The whirl of excitement has caught up another FJ regular, who's picture hasn't yet been officially accepted...
*Discovered by William Tell
p.s. There's still weeks of excitement to go with this one yet, don't get bored already!
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Sheesh, you don't post anything for a couple of days because you're busy, and look what happens; some of the regular layabouts from the forums have organised their own entertainment! The law has fallen into their hands, and they've set their very own version of Pop Idol with a bit of a twist. There are only two entries for Beard Idol so far, but there's already fighting to see who will be the Simon Cowell character.
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Is it Monday morning already? Crikey! That weekend only felt like 2 days long. Are you sure we're not supposed to be watching a few more rugby matches? Drinking a couple more pints of Guinness? Killing a few more evil stick men?
A nice bit of stick murder never hurt anyone.
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Reg and I know our Funjunkie audience well. We've spent millions on market research. We've brought in the finest demographics experts in the world. We've spent several years collating and consulting to come to the conclusion that:
You're all a bunch of bored slackers with a short attention span.
Next week our customer care experts are going to start us on the masters degree course for an MSc in How not to insult all of your readers at once, but until then we're going to have to bluntly let you know that this next game is probably a bit too complicated for you all. No offence guys, but shooting pigs and running a highly profitable business??? Well, we just don't think you're up to it, that's all.
Still, knock yourself out!
Thanks to Gayle for that one.
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Ladies and gentlemen, the fourth game from Funjunkie - Sexy Football! Four games? That's officially a whole bonanza of games. And this one's footy. That's the nation's favourite sport. Apart from fishing. And badger baiting. And cock fighting. God knows why this is a 'sexy' version. I wouldn't know what sexy football was if it came up to me and rubbed it's pink erect bits at me. Heck, am I typing this out loud? Drat. I meant to stop a while back.
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Reg and I are feverishly scouring the World Wide Interwait for pieces of amusement to keep you, the sad unloved* people, happy and gay during your monotonous day at the office, putting 2nd class stamps on the back of bananas.
Unfortunately, Reg and I are also guilty of having to work... this makes us a bit shit at finding good games like HeliAttack, which is dead good and much better than the sort of stuff we post here --». No, not here --», back there. Just that bit. Everywhere else on this site is just bloody brilliant. It's official!
*But we love you all**
**All except for you, Billy***... you're a tosser!
***No not you, Billy... we mean the other Billy.
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We all enjoy a nice Funjunkie Friday Game. Well we would if they were any good. I'm sure there was a good one once. Anyway, that's not the point here. Egg Headed boffins* have finally realised that letting people play games at work is good for business. Yes, you read that correctly.
"Playing simple computer games at the office could improve productivity and job satisfaction, research suggests."
Praise auntie for giving us a wonderful excuse! Play away at those games, kids - it's good for the company. Thanks to Phil 'the Power' Simms for bringing that to our notice. A large pint to that man.
*Under our payroll
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Try to imagine you're not in the office today.
-nice isn't it?
Now try to imagine you're out in the countryside.
-ooh, lovely.
Imagine it's a sunny day.
-that one was easy.
Now try to image you're out rock climbing.
-it's rather good this game, isn't it?
Now try, if you can, to imagine that this "rock climbing" game doesn't suck.
-oh dear.
Incidentally, if you can get anywhere near the current fastest time, you're as big a cheat as linyinyunyinunyuiwhatever-the-fuck-that-name-is
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Come on RI:SE producers, you're going off air soon, give your remaining viewers what they want...
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ner ner
Ner Ner
NER NER ner NER
Argh! It's scary shark time! Luckily Wild's not here, otherwise he'd be plopping his pants! Avoid the evil sea monsters, and remember not to get bored after 20 seconds.
p.s. This is probably aimed at the under 5's.
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I know you haven't been that well behaved this week so far, but you haven't been too bad either. You didn't complain about our size-ist joke, or the infequency of our posts, so in return for your good naturedness, you can have a friday game early. Although I better not call it a 'friday' game, otherwise Taz might sue me, because he's always itching* to put the first one up. So let's just call it a 'game' and not a friday game.
Do you remember the end bit of the Adventure game, where they had to cross that grid to get their bus fare home, otherwise they had to walk back to earth? It's nothing like that.
*It's something to do with his fleas
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Q What's worse than boning a fat bird after a hot curry?
A Entering the tunnel of doom in a flaming mini.
This maybe their last update... ever. Keep your fingers crossed for the FJ Italian job team.
p.s. Sorry for the tasteless joke*, Taz made me do it.
*Theoretically speaking
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So octupuses achieve wood. Eight times. Surely they'd faint? Well, now you can find out for yourselves. We've struck a deal with Bournemouth borough council* so you can go diving off the south coast and tickle a few jelly based creatures with your harpoon gun. Just watch out for the squid ink. Especially if it's white.
*Don't take our word for it, the permit hasn't come through yet
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Things to do today:- Wake up
- Shower off the caked on soot and bits of food from last night's firework party.
- Clean the kitchen of caked on bits of food and chunder from last night's party.
- Switch on computer and bring up Yahoo.
- Read the immortal words:
"Boffins find octopus erections hard to take"
Bring on the Octopussy jokes.
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By rights, you should be demanding a whole bunch of Guy Fawkes style tomfoolery today. Tough. We haven't got any. I went to the local Spar, and they said all bonfire night hi-jinx were sold out.
I demanded to see the manager, but he was on his tea break. The spotty teenager behind the till suggested I should purchase a kerrrr-azy dancing bear as some kind of consolation, but I declined the offer.
Remember, dogs die in hot cars. Oh, and never hold a sparkler next to old men. And bangers are best in a elongated bun. With Ketchup. Or maybe that bright yellow mustard. Or possibly both.
Fried Onions?
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Driving around the Italian countryside appears to be taking its toll on Wild, who's taken up Crochet to pass the long hours when he's not driving. This explains why he and Mark got lost the other day, as Wild was busy making a pink doily instead of map reading.
The result of this was a couple of lover's tiffs, followed by a long moody silence. This had a strange effect on Wild's textile productivity, which seems to have taken a turn towards the morbid.
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Italy. The home of pizza, pasta, towers that lean over a bit and blokes who wear soft brown leather jackets. And now a whole bunch of broken down minis. And a Donald Sutherland lookeelikey who's trying to fix them.
The Funjunkie leader has updated his expedition gallery, and is keeping a suprisingly up to date diary to boot. Well done that man. And his co-pilot. And the bloke fixing the car.
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Gosh. Apparently, Two out of Ten gamers prefer their players from Funjunkie. We're currently flying the FJ flag in the sexiest gamer competition at No.5 in the mens charts (hello), and No.3 in the ladies charts (thanks to the FJ regular, the lovely Leeloo).
click to enlarge for full top 10
Have a look NOW, because no doubt people will see the error of their ways...*
*Only in my case, of course
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Are you looking for your 15 nano-seconds of fame?
Got a digital camera? Read on.
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Cats go to a cattery, dogs go to kennels - where do rabbits go? The bunnery? The Rabbels? Can rabbits in fact, look after themselves? Would you come back from holiday to find that they've had wild sex orgies, and you've now got twice as many bunnies as when you went away - or is that teenagers?
Are bunnies semi-responsible, and as long as they have a modicum of supervision, they'll get on with daily life within their tight remit? Should they be put into B+B's? Am I getting confused? What's this got to do with Boarding Bunny? Where's Wild? Italy! What?
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"Everything that has a beginning has an end."
Taz has disproved the new matrix revolutions strapline already, but since the sequel's sequel opens tommorow, a whole new bunch of guff discussion has started up in readiness for the occassion.
Quite frankly, the only 'end' that I'm interested in only has one line in the film. Rumour has it that this time she's equiped with an industrial WonderBra.
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Taz has been using his time in the mystical world of Glastonbury wisely. He has set up a shop* where people can pop in for advice. It's like a Citizens Advice Bureau, but for questions you didn't even know you wanted to ask: e.g.
Q "Why are corned beef tins such peculiar shapes?"
A "They're not peculiar - they're the same shape as the corned beef inside."
So much knowledge, so little toes. Sorry, time.
*More like a tent.
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We don't agree with animal testing here at FJ. The plus side to this is that the wombats don't get angry. The minus side is that whenever there's a maze to be navigated, it's me that has to dress up in the mouse costume and get on my hands and knees.
At least you could give me some cushions to strap to my knees, you buggers.
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Your morning update on the lads' progress in The Italian Job Rally.
The good news is, they managed to get to Imola... it may have taken them over 3 times as long as it shoud have done, but they made it! And after stunning action scenes like this: They now appear to be lost somewhere in the depths of deepest, darkest Italy.
Tomorrow: Gina gets pushed off a mountain road by the mafia's JCB.
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The Secret Sirvice
As well as the semi-public dubbing ceremony held at Buckingham Palace, recipients of knighthoods also undergo a secret ritual during which they swear a blood oath to defend the monarch's life at times of civil unrest. TV comic David Jason, knighted in 1987 for services to comedy and the anti-espionage work he put in during the 1972 Cod War, carries a dagger strapped to his body at all times should the alarm ever be raised. Keen-eyed viewers might spot the weapon in some episodes of 'Only Fools and Horses' and 'The Darling Buds Of May'. According to an insider at 'TV Quick' magazine he generally wears the six-inch blade gaffer-taped to his left ankle.
Unreliable Facts from The Brains Trust |
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"My classmates would copulate with anything that moved, but I never saw any reason to limit myself."
- Emo Philips |
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DeathGob
