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And so little Timmy ran out into the fresh icy cold snow with joy and wonderment in his little eyes. He was so happy as his feet made little crumping noises in the fresh powder. As he ran up the hill, snowboard tied to his back and large snowflakes pelting his little red button nose, he thought that never again in his life would he experience a moment such as this, where moonlight flickered through the branches of the tall pines and the smell of the sweet sap permeated everything, clipping the viciousness of the cold off with a warm odour.
He paused at the top of the slope, dreams of becoming Bond chased by the bad guys down the mountain tumbling round in his head. He took the snowboard his parents had just given him for Christmas and attached the solid bindings to his feet. They closed firmly with a reassuring click. Digging the side of the board into the snow, Timmy pushed up with his arms and stood up, wobbling slightly as he reaquainted himself with the required balance.
And then he was off! Wooshing and swooshing through the night, trails carving through the forest like smoke from a cigarette twisting into nothingness. He hollered and cried with joy as he built up speed, the cold air forming small tears in his eyes.
And then.... WHAM! he collided with a tree and died instantly. Stupid brat.
Remember kids, snowboarding is injurious to your health.
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Remember! You're tankless. We have tanks to sell. It could be a beautiful union of our tank-making abilities and your hard earned cash.
The Funjunkie MK1 Assault tank must go! With only a reserve price of £3 you are bidding on an awesome and battle-scarred bit of kit. Capable of destroying entire cities (made of lego), the MK1 is the perfect choice for the modern evil dictator or mother who needs that little bit extra to make the school run every morning.
Place your bids now!
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Good morning my little festive chickens!
Tis the night before Christmas
And all round the house
Not a creature is stirring
Not even a mouse.
Well, apart from the 3 drunken loons known as Reg, Taz and Wild who are busy by turns knocking over vases, trying to chat up a poster of Kylie and attempting to sink a battleship full of Brandy.
Yay! It's Christmas Eve! Fun and frolics all round!
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Ah the wonders of riding through a seemingly endless BMX track... that would have kept me busy as a kid. Not because of the size of the place, no.
When I was a kid, all the cool kids had given up thier choppers and got shiny new BMX bikes. I had a Raleigh Grifter. For those of you who don't know, a Grifter is the chunky big brother of the BMX. Born the same year as myself, it looked a bit like a BMX but it had 3 gears with a grip shift, seat and handle bar padding made from the heaviest foam known to man, a frame made from solid steel and a kickstand made of lead.
It was the most durable bike in the world and it weighed the same as a Cheiftan Tank. I loved it. But there wasn't a chicken's chance in Tailand of belting it around a bike park.
By the way: This game entirely sucks.
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The United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA) is the United Nations office responsible for promoting international cooperation in the peaceful uses of outer space.
Unfortunately, UNOOSA has invited a bunch of hostile aliens to planet earth. This is where the Funjunkie Alien Reducing Team (FART) comes in.
Your mission is to neutralise the alien threat, and be home in time for tea. We have great faith in you. Go forth.
Oh yeah, a shit christmas beat 'em up too.
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Aheeheehee! Ah, I may have lost a tooth or two, an mah mem-o-ree mat be a-failin me, but iza remember whin there wuz gold in them thar hills. Gold enough for any man with a sieve and uh hankerin for the big time tae make himself richer than his wildest dreams! Alls ya gotta do is go grab yerself a couple a nuggets and a diamond or two, and a-heehee! You'll be richer quicker than you can say "Beans n sausage ain't no way for a man to be a feastin."
Cheers Ultimate Insult
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Writing for Funjunkie is much like making love to a beautiful woman... There's a lot of strange grunting noises, and somebody has to sleep in the wet patch at the end of it. Fortunately it's not me that gets a sticky arse, it's you lot, so I can go home without a care in the world.
What this has to do with a Pengiun jumping for Sushi is anybody's guess. Work with me people! Work with me.
Thanks Mr Nil... Again.
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Tim Henman has been missing recently, but we've tracked him down at the tennis courts of a small mansion near Southend on Sea.
After failing to find any prosthetic limbs to replace the lost arms, Tim settled for a couple of tree branches found in the forrest. Unfortunately for Tim, the ravens who had spent days building a nest on the branches that he chose to pull down, were none too happy with his plan. A short fight later and Tim Henman is minus one nose.
Finding inspiration from a snowman at a children's playground nearby, Tim opted for wearing a carrot for a sniffer and raided the local Greengrocer's.
There's now a rather angry looking Greengrocer on the hunt for our hero, so it's inevitable that there won't be much left of him tomorrow.
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Ah, the day before the day before Christmas - what could be more christmassy than that? Apart from the Christmas Day of course. Oh, and the day before Christmas Day. And possibly Boxing Day.
Dammit, ok December 23rd isn't even slightly Christmassy! Its the bastard son of Christmas - trying to be Christmas, but actually only ever ending up as a mad dash round the shops for extra wrapping paper and last minute presents.
In fact, December 23rd is an eeeviiil day. Oh yes. Its the counterpoint to the rest of Christmas - the springboard from which Christmas Eve and Christmas Day can be all holy and good and nice. December 23rd is necessarily evil.
To therefore celebrate this fine day, we have a suitably anti-festive FJ Advent Calendar entry. Its a photo of my arch-nemesis and evil twin - Evil Wild. Hardly ever photographed, we managed to snap this shot off before he went on to wreak extreme devastation on several outlying villages near Milton Keynes, and we nearly paid with our lives!
Feel extremely grateful therefore for the lengths we go to to bring you suitably themed advent calendar days as we unveil, the world's first ever sighting of.... Evil Wild!!!
Wooo.
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In the absence of the all familiar Friday* this week, we** thought it important to announce that this whole week is now known as The Final Runup to Christmas Funjunkie Games Week, or TFRTCFGW for a handy and easily pronounceable acronym.
Why? Well you remember junior school, right? You remember the last week before Christmas, right? Did you do any work whatsoever? Hell no! Come to think of it, did you ever do any work at junior school? Hell no! Well kids, that should be your mission for the week. End the year how you intend to carry on the next.
Let us start with the usual crap that Taz finds, this time its a chicken and egg scenario, except there's no eggs***.
It's predictably shit, so you've got Funjunkie regular reader: Mr Nil to thank for that one.
*Friday has been cancelled this week due to insufficient funds.
**I.
***Although for the purposes of this game there is.
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Monkey 1: So how about a ladder?
Monkey 2: Nah, we haven't got one, anyway, it'd have to be huge.
Monkey 1: Hmm. I guess so. We could sew coconut husks together and wear them as armour?
Monkey 2: Yea, perhaps... Have you got any coconut husks?
Monkey 1: Nope. I was hoping you still had those spare ones left in your garage?
Monkey 2: Unfortunately not, the wife made me chuck em - they were taking up too much space.
Monkey 1: Dammit! Ok, we parachute out of a plane and land in the top branches. That'd qualify.
Monkey 2: Do you think we could come up with some sensible ways to do it that don't involve death and dismemberment?
Monkey 1: Look, do you *want* to do it or not?
Monkey 2: Of course I do! Doesn't mean I want to plummet to my death trying to do so.
Monkey 1: Ok, ok, it wasn't a great idea. How about burning the spines off the trunk?
Monkey 2: But then you'd singe all the bananas in the branches.
Monkey 1: Does it even *have* bananas?
Monkey 2: Hmmm, I don't think so.
Monkey 1: Then why the fuck are we even bothering?
Monkey 2: I don't KNOW! It was YOUR idea!
Monkey 1: Well, there must be a point to it.
Monkey 2: Beats me.
Monkey 1: Stupid tree.
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Ladies and Genteeeelmen, roll up roll up for your very own opportunity to buy a piece of weblogging über-culture. That's right - you too can own the Funjunkie MK1 cardboard tank!
 The Deadly Funjunkie MK1 Tank, yesterday.
Bid now and see in the New Year in safety and comfort as you rumble down your living room safe in the knowledge that anything less dangerous than a small potato is of absolutely no threat to you whatsoever. Suitable for despotic rulers of small to medium countries.
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So for reasons to dull to even go into I found myself in the local Laundrette at around 5pm on Sunday evening. Now I hate Laundrettes with a passion. I avoid them whenever possible. I would prefer wear wet pants than go to a laundrette. Its not a snobby thing, but they're fucking skegholes.
Right, that over with, I was there anyway, waiting for some clothes to dry. I was reading a book and trying to avoid wilting under the withering look the local laundrette crones* were giving me.
Then, I just glanced above the horizon of the book and noticed something very very odd. So odd that I did a classic double-take and even then couldn't for the life of me believe what I was seeing.
Take a closer look at the photo. That's right, in the middle of the picture you are seeing a levitating NikNaks crisp! I shit you not. It was a levitating wheat-based snack. Scared the beejesus out of me, and has confirmed what I always thought - laundrettes are places of evil witchcraft. Stay away!!
* Every laundrette has its crones who think they own the place just because they're there drying and washing clothes all day every day. They piss up against the walls to mark their territory.
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I was keeping this lovely picture in reserve for christmas eve, but Wild has promised us a picture of his arse for that special occassion. Therefore forum regular and US sexiest gamer finalist Gally3d gets promoted to the second most important date left: today.*
*It's Monday
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Arse! I've forgotten to pick up my food order for this year's Funjunkie Staff Xmas party! Without it, there'll be pandemonium!
Do us a favour could ya? Take the pool van and go and pick up all the stuff for us? I ordered a job lot of live chicks, cysts and Ferrero Rocher cos I thought everyone would be hungry. Just pick em up and chuck em in the back of the van - we need the stuff quickly mate.
Ta fella!
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Spot the incorrect penguin fact:
1. Penguins are birds.
2. Penguins don't fly.
3. Penguins lay eggs.
4. Most penguin chicks have fluffy feathers.
5. Penguins enjoy sledging.
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Ho Ho Ho, we've got a whole sackful of FJFG's for you today, but we're rationing them out. We don't want to get you too fat too quickly. Haven't you heard of Hansel & Gretel?
I'm not going to attempt to 'big this up', because if I explained it, you'd never give it a go. And that would be a shame. For you, not me. I've played it, and I think it's rather good. I hope you will too. Maybe not game of the year, but probably game of the day.
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Even at Christmas thieves never stop working. They never get holidays. Its unfair really, they'd like some time off I'm sure. I'm surprised they don't go on strike.
That'd be good wouldn't it - loads of thieves standing by roadsides, burning wood in oildrums to keep warm and holding "Fair Deal For Thieves" banners.
Fellow thieves would honk their horns in support as they drove past in borrowed cars.
There'd be heated TV arguments between the government and the leader of the Thieves Nion (it would be Union, but someone stole the U).
Imagine. The country would be in turmoil. There wouldn't be anything for police to do, so in boredom they'd start being really pernickity about speeding, parking tickets, tax etc. The general public would be hounded to misery and back again! We'd all have to support the thieves just to get the rozzers off our backs. Some cops might even go mad at have nothing to do, and packs of them would start roving the countryside, devouring sheep.
Manufacturers of security hardware would all go bust, jobs would be lost. The bottom would fall out of the black market and everyone would have to pay top dollar for new VCRs and DVD players - causing widespread poverty, forcing interest rates to skyrocket, causing another bust like the eighties - and we don't want to go there again do we?
Our country needs thieves. Support your local burglar.
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I love how Christmas makes snack manufacturers feel as if they have to alter their products to make them more Christmassy. Walkers have brought out their Christmas tree shaped Doritos (with that advert with the guy saying "I hate how commercial Christmas is" before diving into a bag of them - tosser).
Walkers have also brought out their "Christmas dinner in a bag" Turkey and Paxo flavoured crisps.
 Gobble them all up! Ahahah! geddit?
In the interests of public service, let me just save you a trip to the shop. They taste exactly like normal Roast Chicken flavour crisps. There's no hint of Paxo stuffing, its not even very Turkey-ish. Its chicken - and you know what Roast Chicken crisps taste like? That's right, nothing like chicken at all.
Funjunkie gives Walker's Roast Turkey with Paxo a Scroogelike 2 out of 10.
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Hmm, I'm slightly annoyed with myself.
I'm taking part again in this year's Secret Santa. I've sent off my prezzie to the person allocated to me (Hi Ben, hope you like it) - but twathead me has just realised that my Amazon wishlist delivery address has been sent to my old address - a flat above a shop that doesn't exist anymore.
Now I'm sad. I'll never receive it.
So whoever sent me the prezzie from Secret Santa - thanks loads for buying it for me. I've spoiled it though, sorry. Arse!
UPDATE - I've just had Amazon reveal what item that person bought for me. Arse! Its only the 1 thing I wanted more than anything else on that list - The Very Best of David Hasselhoff CD! Nooooooooo!
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There is a young lady called Zora,
Who generates a lot of our hits,
We'd like to give you a new job or a
quick go on your enormous... CV
 Zora, this morning
Seriously, we have a huge monkey typing pool. If you need a hand, we've got at least two. Thanks for reading the news the past year, and get a new high profile job soon.
Failing that, we need a french maid, right Wild?
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You thought you'd seen the last of all this sexiest gamer nonsense, but not quite! You can now view some of the video highlights over in the Watch section at gamer.tv
Thankfully I get away very lightly ("Hi, I'm George"*), the editor wisely chose to focus on the girls rather than the boys.
p.s. I was only drinking white wine because it was free, and I hadn't spotted the beer yet - honest!
*That's my secret gaming codename
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Every year, more than 40,000 people are killed and maimed whilst putting on their pants (source). The most common method is overbalancing whilst trying to 'get the other leg in the hole' and thus smashing their heads on the floor/washbasin/cat etc.
Its an horrific and needless tragedy of modern life. It CAN be avoided. John Craven, ex-Newsround presenter and now world famous Countryfile reporter told us:
"This Christmas, why not take care whilst putting your pants on? Sit down on a flat and secure surface to get both feet in the holes, and then stand up to slide the pants on over your bits. I lost 17 friends last year to poor pants donning, and I'm fucked if I'm gonna lose another 17 this year. Be safe, be aware. Its a mad, bad world out there."
And he's not alone either. Kriss Akabusi, gold medal winner at the 1990 European Athletics Championships told us "The secret is preparing mentally. You've got to be in the zone as and when you begin to put your first leg in the hole. Left leg or right leg first, it doesn't matter. Get them in the right holes, and don't fall over! You're a winner! You can do it!"
So remember, safety first when putting your pants on. Do it for the sake of those that love you.
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Even though he's not a big fan of christmas, Munky still wants to get you a drink. What a Gent.
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Yay! Woo! Its Friday! Thank the lord! Ahhhh.
Let's celebrate the fact with a jolly little multiplayer game of Globulos - where you go head to head with other players to boing your little fellas around the field, trying to protect your king. Obviously.
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Riiiiggght. So this is why I keep getting off at the wrong station. I've been using the wrong maps all this time.
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Forget Aibo, the FJ robot dog is far more realistic and it does convenient sized poos on all your favourite magazines!
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Eggs. They're funny old things. I love them fried, but I hate them scrambled. I like a quiche, but I don't like an omelette. Maybe I'm fussy, but maybe you've all got little egg-foibles like me - I just don't know.
One thing I do know however is, it's not cool to wear a rubber glove on your head and pretend to be a cockrel. It didn't work for the villainous penguin in The Wrong Trousers, and it's certainly not a good look for poor old Billy Hatcher. Although he does barge his eggs into fruit balls, which is some kind of bonus. Possibly.
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If you're in Dorset anytime over the festive season, then you and your loved ones could do yourselves a very big favour and head on over to the very exciting Tank Museum, where they personally promise that you can test drive each and every tank they have on display, as well as try out the big guns on their private shooting range*
And should you tire of tanks (and a man tired of tanks is a man tired of life), then right next door is the world famous MonkeyWorld - a sanctuary for rescued monkeys from all over the globe. Monkeyworld is quite possibly my favouritest place in the whole of Dorsetsershireham, and every day at 3pm everyone gathers in a big arena to watch humans pitted versus chimps and marmosets in gory battles to the death.* Great stuff for all the family.
Which is all great fun. However, and this is the main thrust of this post - who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to put monkeys and tanks in such close proximity? I mean, seriously - we're worried about terrorists near airports and stuff and then we go and put some of history's most terrifying weapons at the disposal of the simian race? What were they thinking?
 Mankind's worst fears realised yesterday.
* All very untrue
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It comes as quite a suprise that Tank Watch is more than a passing phase. Since the first report, there has been continuous development on this breaking story. Monday night saw an official visit to the tank by FJ representatives (me), and last night saw the finished paint job and initial test drive.
There have been unconfirmed sightings of A-10 Tankbusters (made from washing up bottles) in the area. Further infomation is on a strict 'need to know' basis.
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I had an email turn up in my inbox yesterday entitled 'I fucked Santa'. I thought it was going to be a rubbish ecard until I saw it was from our favourite smoker, Fuck Fluffy Sally:
We liked this so much here at FJ Towers that we made it into the official Chrimbo desktop for you. It's also raised some pressing questions from the FJ Team, such as Is santa semen glittery?
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Snippety Snip Snip, can you tell what it is yet? Doo Doobey-doo, snip.
That's right folks, it's a snowflake! But wait, what's this? You can use the scissors without adult supervision? Oh yeah! Just wait until I get them home and coif my brother's hair while he's having a snooze in front of Richard and Judy! I'm going to get in sooooo much trouble! No afters for me tonight, it's straight to bed.
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Here's a quick round-up of all the Sexiest Gamer competition odd and ends.
I can't be arsed to write a coherent piece of prose*, so I'm lazily just going to list everything in the following manner:
UK Sexiest Male Sid has built his own site, with a link to his hot tounging action video.
US Sexiest Female (and FJ forumite) Envie's pictures from the finals.
More pictures from the US finals.
A great piece of journalism from The Sun. Notice the erudite headline.
There's a gamer.tv DVD to the first two people who send an competitionATfunjunkieDOTcoDOTuk with the title "Gimme the free stuff".
*Some would say, I can NEVER be arsed to do that...
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You know, looking around us, there are a lot of people who are all very anti-xmas. Not us, oh no. How can you hate Christmas when its such a festive word? Did you know that with the exception of a few letters, you can get the word Satsuma from the word Christmas. Amazingly festive stuff.
Here are a few more words you can get from the magic word Christmas, which just goes to show you what a brill time it is for all. I've taken the liberty of adding a few letters here and there to support my claim.- WRist - for when you're having a festive one off it.
- Sir - Which is what you address me as when you wander in to find me performing number 1 above. Bring Maid outfit.
- Stir - if I find that my bread sauce has stuck to the bottom of the pan - I'll kill you. Keep stirring whilst I have another gin.
- Master - see 2.
- Sham - I mean this nativity story lark, its just an excuse for a rave in a barn innit?
- Shit - What you'll be in if you don't keep stirring the bread sauce.
- Christ - What you'll be saying if you realise that the bread sauce has burnt.
- Match - A festive race to see who can throw as much booze down their necks as possible.
- Harm - see 6.
- Ass - You'll make yourself one when you've had enough to drink.
- Schism - from the family when you've attained 10 above.
- Mirth - from drawing a pen moustache on the queen during her speech.
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We're trying to get into the christmas spirit here at FJ Towers, but Taz has hidden the corkscrew. Luckily, Wild has sold his soul (again) so we can afford a couple of cans of Special Brew instead.
Now the booze is sorted, all we have to do now is work out how to cook turkey in reduced gravity. On a bonfire. Without oxygen.
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FJ Forum regular, and self-confessed Duck Tales fan, Leeloo.
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Ah, the joys of flu. The way it rips through your body leaving an inert shambling, sweating, feverish mess where once a proud noble human stood.
And after the 4-5 days of unceasing headaches, sweating, nausea - it decides that you've been such a great host for its seasonal shenanigans that it decides to leave you weak, gasping for breath and with all those scabby bits round your nose.
Whilst I wrap my face up to avoid scaring the bejesus out of little kids, let me tell you a bit about the history of flu.
Flu started out normally enough. An everyday virus, running round with all the other virii, up to the sorts of pranks that young infections will get up to. He had many close friends - smallpox, TB, Eamonn Holmes.
One day though, as flu was busy giving an elderly man a sniffly cold, he felt a stinging sensation. His eyes burned and his teeth rattled and he fled the victim as fast as he could. As he ran, he looked back through watery eyes to see what had assailed him. It was none other than TV's John Craven, fresh from reading the actuals to news-starved children, and brandishing a bag of healthy vitamin C-packed satsumas at the retreating virus.
"Curse you Craven!" screamed flu, "I WILL return!"
Since that time all those hundreds of years ago, flu has been a right little stroppy prick. John Craven on the other hand, has gone from strength to strength, and now hosts Countryfile on Sunday afternoons.
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OK, so we admit that we've been neglecting you. Not just on Friday, but today as well. It's harder than you'd initially think to come up with new and ingenious ways to make soft toys dangerous to the under 7's. Luckily, our forum regulars don't need constant guidance, and can carry on being daft even when they're not under our direct supervision.
Tank Watch has today reached phase two, with the initial application of Olive Green. What next? Wicker man ceremonies for non-believers?
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We know you didn't have any games to play on friday, and we're very sorry about the fact. The thing is, we were busily making all the faulty toys that are going to cause small children mild pain this christmas, and we simply didn't have time.
In compensation for this glaring omission, we're going to temporarily rewind time for the duration of your go on Egg Fighter so it is actually friday. It will still seem like Monday, but it won't be. Trust us, we know what we're talking about.
Don't we?
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News from the US Sexiest Gamer finals is starting to trickle through: congratulations to Envie on winning, commiserations to TearyEyedSniper and Gally 3D. I'll knock up a full report after a couple of teas.
Thanks to Sy for the picture
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Still no Funjunkie Friday games to speak of, but at least we can bring you a toy or two. It is nearly Christmas afterall.
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Tim Henman has now lost so much in the past week. His life, his racquet arm, his eye, his left arm, and he's now given up with the Robocop bionic arm.
Predicatbly, the members of the British Lawn Tennis Association caught up with tim after he lost one eye, due to the fact that he could only run around in circles. One thing led to another and soon he was being beaten about the head with his own severed arm. Not a perfect day.
Steve Irwin would have shot Tim had he not seen movement in a bush near the Wimbledon main gate. "Snake!", cried Steve, and leapt headfirst off a 15 foot wall into a large bramble. Nobody's seen him since.
Will Tim return next week and lose yet more limbs and organs? Find out in our next installment of The week Tim Henman returned to lose yet more limbs and organs
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The UK Sexiest Gamer Grand Final was in London yesterday. We sent our Sexiest Gamer to cover the event. I tagged along too.
Full Story >>
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Funjunkie regular Captain Chaos (Ms), watching porn.
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Funjunkie's own Reg, watching porn.
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No luck for Tim Henman today. After challenging Steve Irwin to a 'pistols at dawn' duel, he realised that he no longer had a good shooting arm. Aparently the NHS couldn't give him a prosthetic limb in time, so he settled for a piece of movie memorabelia, Robocop's arm.
All well and good, but Tim has had no time to learn how to use it. 7am came and Tim stood on centre court with a semi-automatic, a bionic arm that has a mind of its own, and a crazy Austrailian Crocodile chaser who was rather grumpy. Tim gave up with trying to aim with the bionic arm and fired with his left hand. The shot went wild and took out the umpire.
Not wanting to stick around to lose another limb, tim dropped the gun and made a run for it with Steve Irwin giving chase, followed by several members of the British Lawn Tennis Association. Unfortunately for Tim (if these events weren't bad enough), the bionic arm misinterpreted his mental instruction to open the main Wimbledon Gate, and instead poked his left eye out.
Tim running like a girl, today.
Will Tim find a better bionic arm? Will the BLTA hunt him down and remove one of his legs? Find out tomorrow in the next instalment of The day Tim Henman had to find 2 new prosthetic limbs
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Right, I'm off to the sexiest gamer finals. I'll leave you in the capable, yet slightly feminine hands, of Taz and Wild.
There'll be a full photo report on friday / when I recover from the hanggover. Which ever is later. Ba!
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Due to popular demand, I've been forced to share the whole of Teary Eyed Sniper's Advent Calendar photo shoot with you. Damn it. I wanted to keep them all to myself. You pesky kids.
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We like to think that we're not always biased with our news coverage here at FJ*. We're** always rabbiting on about Zora from sensational early morning TV show RI:SE, but what about something for the ladies*** to even things up?
You're prayers have been answered in the form of the Iain Lee fanclub. As seen on TV this morning.
*Sorry, our 'Earth News' coverage
**No, it's just me
***Other than the ladies who like ladies, if you know what I mean...
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Life is never easy for zombies, which could be due to the fact that they're not alive at all, more 'undead'. Being undead doesn't seem to be working out for Tim Henman at the moment. Firstly, he's had to buy a whole new range of men's beauty products to go with his green skin colour, which is a bit of a bummer. Since then he's forgotten about the jellyfish and moved onto bigger things, lost an arm in a fight with an angry alligator, lost all of his zombie police friends who have decided to stay in Florida to "Get some sun" and now he's flying back to the UK on short notice after realising that he left the oven on.
Tim Henman yesterday and today.
Losing an arm is obviously going to put a crimp on Tim's style, so he's now looking for revenge. Tim has just heard that 'Crocodile Hunter', Steve Irwin is visting Birmingham this week, so he's decided to challenge the unlikely victim to a duel.
Steve Irwin humping a crocodile, today.
Will Tim avenge the loss of his racquet arm? Find out tomorrow in the next thrilling instalment of The day Tim Henman lost a duel and an eye to the Crocodile Hunter
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Moving home is always a stressful time, and having to shift an entire gothic mansion complete with expansive wine cellars hewn out of solid rock and resident wombat and monkey typing pool is no exception. In fact, it could have gone smoother - the wombat managed to escape from its bindings and went for a spell of EVA until it ran out of breath and had to knock on the airlock and ask to be let back in.
Even the normally docile monkeys were a handful. One of them discovered my robot ninja monkey research papers and like a sneak showed them to the rest of them, who then decided to run amok, spilling Reg's tea everywhere. He wasn't amused. Taz was, but Reg wasn't.
So anyway, we finally made it to our new home on the surface of Mars, and my, what a lovely little area Taz and Reg managed to find for us! They couldn't have done better! I managed to take a few minutes out from unpacking my test tubes and other scientific equipment to take this little snap of the view from the East Wing top bedroom window:
 All the local amenities are close to hand, perfect.
Job's a good'un. Nice one lads. We haven't met the locals yet, but I'm sure they're friendly and up for a laugh or two. As you can see, we got the net connection up straightaway. Beat that BT/NTL!
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FJ Forum regular and US sexiest gamer finalist, Teary Eyed Sniper. Good luck for tommorow!
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What, you don't know what a Hyper Comic is? Oh man, where have you been? They're the latest in comic technology. It's the most important evolution in the comics industry since they trained chimps to do all the lettering!
You've got to catch up with the real world, man. You've got to read the seminal story of a man on his way to a shop to buy some milk, or even (since you're a FunJunkie), the story of the avenging ninja.
Thanks to Ultimate Insult for the enlightenment.
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Its gonna take some more packing, but after today's news, we can at last confirm that the Funjunkie Headquarters are indeed being relocated to the Isidis Plantitia plateau on the surface of Mars.
I've been working late nights and early days to get the rockets attached to the towers of our expansive gothic castle, as well as having to solve the small problem of relocating the subterranean wine cellars, but I'm confident that the six hundred thousand tons of plastic explosive will do the trick in releasing them from their rocky roots. Taz and Reg meanwhile have been busy locating a nice spot for us on the plateau, with a nice garden and close to the local amenities, with special attention paid to the quality of the local pub.
So, we're out of here suckas. Its been emotional, but you Earth-dwellers suck arse quite frankly. Of course, we'll keep updating FJ from over there - an advantage of Mars is its superlative network infrastructure. We'll also be dropping deadly microbe ridden rocks on your heads from space, just for a laugh, like.
Right, I've got to get back to the last minute preparations, we haven't brought enough pringles for the trip and I need to secure the wombat and the typing pool monkeys so that they don't make a mess during the launch.
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The worst mistake of my life last week was the morning I decided to get my Maccy Ds breakfast Muffin and cup of rats poision (aparently coffee) at the drive-thru.
Taz: "Hello. Could I have a breakfast muffin and a coffee please?"
Intercom thing: "Okay, so that's one chocolate thick shake, seventeen Big Macs, a large box of knapkins and... um sorry, I don't think we serve handjobs!"
Taz: "?"
Needless to say, I was sorely disappointed. No doubt I'll be more bemused by the soot covered, Taiwanese made, Britney Spears merchandise that's supposed to sit in a pool of pine needles on Christmas day (but is more likely to be in soggy chewed pieces at the back of the Wombat's cage). It's my own fault for being so late with the letter to santa. I ended up having to phone it in.
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I have received a number* of complaints about the quality of today's cryptic instalment of The day Tim Henman flew back to England with less arms, which saw Tim end his battle with several angry alligators, slightly worse off.
I'd like to point out now that I make no apologies for this. Instead I shall be speaking to you on behalf of Curls, in a kind of clairvoyant-seance-not beyond the grave sort of way. This is quite difficult and requires a lot of concentration, which I'm clearly unable to manage.
Today's gem comes in the form of one Randy Constan... whether he is or not is irrelevant, but the important thing is that he's got a green suit and he's not afraid to use it. Beware the barnet!
*One (from chief inspector Wild)
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Today's update:
The day Tim Henman lost an arm fighting an angry alligator.
Tuesday
A couple of angry alligators, today.
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Today's picture comes from Cory, he of Make Your Own Spork fame.
Don't worry, we've got ladies again tommorow
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So last week, on International Tom Baker Day we had a very tricky competition for you to enter and win some fab prizes.
Well, we have a winner, but first let me give you the answers:Q.Where was Tom Baker born?
A. Liverpool
Q. We all know that Tom Baker was arguably the finest Doctor Who ever to have graced The Tardis, but how did he die and what were his last words?
A. He fell off a radio telescope / "Its the end, but the moment has been prepared for".
Q. When asked "what was your favourite monster in Dr. Who?", which ex-wife of Tom's replied: "Tom Baker"?
A. Lalla Ward
Q. Tom already owns his gravestone. What's inscribed on it?
A. Tom Baker. 1934 -
Q. To this day, Tom can't believe he still gets paid for playing a literally legless ship's captain. What was his name?
A. Captain Redbeard Rum
Q. At the age of 15, what was Tom's first vocation?
A. He joined an monastery and became a monk.
Q. For what reason did Tom accept the vocal part of Zeebadee in the upcoming Magic Roundabout film?
A. The money was great So - with the highest score of 5.5 points (half dropped for missing the Doctor's last words), the winner of the incredibly valuable Tom Baker badge and autobiography is BigDaddyMerk!
Congratulations! We'll be sending the prizes sometime after Xmas!
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Its new! Its fab! Its amazing! Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris martin are even doing it! Madonna's had her people phoning us up to ask how we do it! The Red Hot Chili Peppers are writing a song about it!
What is it?
Man, you're soooo out of touch! Its putting prawns on people's faces - that's what it is. Yes! You too can do it! You know you can!
InstructionsHere's one that junkite Grumpy Hippy did earlier:
 A master at work, yesterday. |
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The Funjunkie Community* are now the proud parents of a tiny puppy! We're ever so proud of our little bundle of er... fluff.
In fact, we're still trying to work out whether this really is a real dog or not. The FJ Editorial Team** still can't decide if this is a real animal or whether it is in actual fact a hand puppet. Reg has had his hand up its arse and still can't figure it out, but he did do a mean impression of Spit the Dog.
Answers on a postcard please to our amazing new competition: "What the fuck is this thing?" to the usual address.
* of cut-throats, thieves and perverts
** highly qualified time-wasters
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Being a famous Tennis playing zombie can take its toll on the mind. Zombies are prone to losing track of their original objectives. This is probably due to the dull ache in their shoulders, caused by walking around for hours on end with their arms held out in front of them.
Tim, suffering from fatigue now that his personal physiotherapist cant help him, has been getting fairly disillusioned with the whole jellyfish battling idea... the police have taken over and he feels that his over-arm smash powers could be utilised more effectively elsewhere.
Last week our hero and several hundred zombie police officers attempted to hijack a dozen Ryan Air jets to carry the whole troupe to Portugal. Unfortunately Ryan Air were running short staffed due to a recent bout of food poisoning, so they offered the zombies 5 hundred free cups of tea and fleet of busses to take them to Portsmouth. At Portsmouth, the zombies charged through passport control at the ferry terminal and blagged their way onto the QE2. After a few days and 10,000 bottles of duty free alcohol consumed, they arrived in Miami. Since then the police zombies have been recruiting new blood on the beaches, and Tim has been in the everglades trying to capture alligators. Will Tim lose an arm battling with angry gators? Find out tomorrow that he does in The day Tim Henman lost an arm fighting an angry alligator.
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Well, we're halfway through the party season now. How are you bearing up?
At the Funjunkie Headquarters we've booked a triple slot of the local hospital's kidney dialysis machine - and it looks like we'll be turning it up to 11 at this rate.
All the traditional signs that its Christmas are there: consecutive nights of not getting in to bed before 3am; the cramming of a chicken fillet burger into your mouth as you stagger to the taxi rank to get a taxi to take you the whole 600 metres back home as there's no earthy way you'll make it unassisted; the frantic finding of ill-suited receptacles such as the kitchen wok to place next to your head in case you vomit during the night; the purchasement of emergency rations such as Lucozade, snickers and tea whilst still reeking of booze the next day; the inability of said items to cope with your pain-ridden disability and the subsequent requirement of another full English instead; the grief of coming to terms with realising that yes, last night you really did wander down the street shouting "Yes! I AM Spartacus!" whilst clutching your stolen pintglass as if it was a treasured chalice.
Fear not though - you don't have to fall foul of such traditionisms as worshipping the birth of our Lord Baby Booze this Chrimbo. Relax, and let the sisters (Grimm?) Meg and Anna help you through this seasonal minefield. Tis The Season - more helpful than a bathful of Alka Seltzer.
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This... thing has just been presented to me as an excuse for tea. I have never been so offended in my lfe. Shame on you, junior tea person. BOOOOO!
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Hopefully I'll be able to annoy both Taz and Wild with this next game. Firstly, because it means that I'm getting another game in before Taz (the sleepy dust must be really welded in today). Secondly, it contains sharks, and we all know that Wild is petrified of sharks.
Anyway, Santa's finally emptied his sack, and he's taking a well earned break. Hang on, well earned? He only works one day of the year, the fat bastard. Now he's off the coast of Hawaii doing a bit of surfing. Ho bloody Ho to you too.
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It's Friday, you're at Funjunkie, you're going to play games! Once again I beat Taz in the early bird stakes*, and whipped out a crummy game before he's even wiped the sleepy dust from the corner of his eyes.
Take control of a jolly fat bloke who sneaks around depositing the contents of his sack, much to the delight of little kiddies. Read the instructions first, otherwise you're just going to be crashing into stuff.
*I like mine done medium rare with peppercorn sauce
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FJ regular BadgerMushroom proudly displays his Horseshoe Of Purity*, which he coloured in himself. With crayons and tippex.
*BadgerMushroom and Wild developed the orginal concept of the H.O.P. so blame them
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Sometimes, if I go to sleep after an elongated session of playing a video game, I dream that I'm still playing that game. Unfortunately, it's usually putting falling blocks into neat rows, rather than extreme beach volleyball. Which is a shame.
My sleeping patterns are bound to be interrupted even more frequently now that plush consoles are available. Just don't buy me an xbox version, otherwise there won't be enough space for me to get into bed in the first place.
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I'm off to see The Darkness in Bournemouth tonight.
I was listening to the Scott Mills show on Radio 1 this morning when some guy phoned up and said, "I'm transporting the band's microphones and stands to the gig tonight and I'd like tickets and backstage laminates for me and my 25 mates, otherwise I won't deliver the microphones."
Well mate, I can trump that to hell and back. I'm transporting The Darkness' official air that they're going to use tonight to breathe. Yes, The Darkness could perform without microphones - they'd just have to shout a bit. How the fuck are they gonna perform without air eh?- They'll die without it, so apart from them croaking you won't hear much
- Without air sound waves won't travel anyway* and so you won't even hear them croaking it.
I'm transporting the precious air to the gig in my lungs, and unless I get backstage laminates for me and 200 of my shallowest mates then I shan't exhale all night and The Darkness will suffocate to death.
* assuming that no alternative medium is used as a substitute.
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More pictures of the lovely Tanya bothering inflatables can be found in the advent calendar thread on the fourms.
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I know it's been dragging on for weeks now, but tommorow is the final day of voting in the sexiest gamer competition.
Here's a quick reminder of all the 'goodies':
If you could give us a few last minute votes, that would be very nice of you. Thanks to everyone who has voted for us so far.
Hell, it's difficult being polite for once...
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Just to get you in the mood and all excited about winning Tom Baker's autobiography, as well as to sway the unconvinced amongst you of the man's comic genius, here's a selection of quotes from the very same book showing off the man's fantastic ability to use 50 words when only 5 will do.
A couple of examples:'Bob Holmes, the script editor, did laugh and filled his pipe so that he could create a smoke screen between us while he turned the idea down.'
'"Stay calm, sir," I cried. "Don't excite yourself, it could mean death." He took me at my word and instantly fell inert. I didn't know whether he was obeying me or had died.'
'Who was it that designed brown envelopes? I feel sure that he hated people whoever he was. I wonder where he's buried?'
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Yes, I know I forgot to tell you what the prizes for the competition were, or even the closing date. I did it on purpose, or something.
Anyway. The winner of The Fantabulous Tom Baker Competition will receive a copy of Tom Baker's autobiography - "Who On Earth Is Tom Baker?" as well as a fantastic Tom Baker badge.
Now how's that for amazing?
Yea ok, so its not a Tom Baker-autographed fridge freezer. What do you want? Blood?
The competition will close on Monday 8th December 2003 at 09:00 GMT.
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"Once a man next to me found the handle of a radiator in his mashed potato; he said nothing, merely moving it to the side of his plate after sucking the mashed potato off first. Nobody else said anything either. If the truth was known several of us were probably jealous." Wahey! Its International Tom Baker Day! Yes, International - everybody in the world can wonder at the goodness of Tom Baker.
And to celebrate this wondrous event, we've got a dead hard Tom Baker quiz for you. Don't worry about getting 100%, just get as many as you can, and you could be the winner of a fantastic Tom Baker prize that you can love and cherish to the end of your days.
Yes I am being serious. Here we go:- Where was Tom Baker born?
- We all know that Tom Baker was arguably the finest Doctor Who ever to have graced The Tardis, but how did he die and what were his last words?
- When asked "what was your favourite monster in Dr. Who?", which ex-wife of Tom's replied: "Tom Baker"?
- Tom already owns his gravestone. What's inscribed on it?
- To this day, Tom can't believe he still gets paid for playing a literally legless ship's captain. What was his name?
- At the age of 15, what was Tom's first vocation?
- For what reason did Tom accept the vocal part of Zeebadee in the upcoming Magic Roundabout film?
Send your answers into competition AT funjunkie.co.uk. Good luck!
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Taz just got a call from Tim Henman to say that he's going to send his zombie police to FJ Towers unless we stop revealing his whereabouts. Tim's security cordon is costing us tax payers $4billion a day, even though we use pounds sterling.
 Taz's huge purple swelling, 30 seconds ago
The short telephone call didn't turn Taz into a zombie*, but it has permanently discoloured and inflamed his ear! Poor bloke. It's lucky he only used one side of his head.
*Not that anyone would notice
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Microsoft Excel is great, official.
I'm not a man who does a lot of work with spreadsheets. In fact, many would say that I'm not a man who does a lot of work. But now, I can combine spreadsheets and not working by playing Pacman in Excel!
It's a genius concept that I'll let the creator explain: "I was absorbed in video game named *PAC-MAN* when I was a schoolchild. I would like to reproduce that on Excel. I've held the thought from two years before, and finally...It's realized."
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One of my favourite lines from a film ever comes from Toy Story. Mr Potato head gets his face knocked off, and he replaces the parts in the wrong places and goes "Look at me, I'm Picasso!"
Well, it made me laugh. Anyway, now it's your turn to be Picasso. There's a free pat on the back to whoever can come up with the best interpretation of Wild.*
*Taz would be too easy
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We would love to go into depth about how Tim Henman managed to escape from a maximum security prison, but as it happens, we can't be arsed.
Tim is now on the warpath with several hundred police in tow. Most of the zombie police have joined Tim's cause, but a small splinter group have headed off to Bradford to grab a balti and a few pints before continuing on to York to finish their Christmas shopping.
Tim is currently heading to Heathrow with the intention of catching a flight to Portugal, where he expects to find a glut of the famous man-o-war jellyfish. Will Ryan Air flight staff allow hundreds of zombies to board their planes? Find out in the next episode of The day Tim Henman and 400 zombie police tried to hijack a plane and failed.
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I did say that some of the advent pictures would be disturbing...
 FJ Forum Regular, Kaiser, recently |
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Four words you don't hear very much nowadays: "You sunk my battleship".
Kids don't want to sit at the dining table and fiddle around with tiny blue and red plastic boats anymore. They want semi-automatic assault rifles, gore and terrorists to shoot. And you know what? They can have them.
Just don't tell Mom*.
*That's like an American Mum
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Its Tom Baker Day tomorrow on Funjunkie.
Yep, tomorrow we'll be celebrating the looniness and geniusositynessification of ex-Dr. Who Tom Baker. So, for tomorrow, I expect all of you to have read up on the great man, listened to his advert outtakes (old link, but I couldn't give a toss, its important that you educate yourselves) and generally absorbed the atmosphere that the great man exudes.
There'll be a test as well. So study well!
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Just in case you haven't had it up to here with hearing about the UK Bloggers Party, here's another bunch of photos to keep you out of mischief. These ones fell off my camera today instead of yesterday, because so far I've been unable to move either my arms or my vegitable knife. You understand of course.
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Forget two turtle doves, give me two giant baubles from Tinkebell any day!
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1st Prostitute: "Ever been caught by the fuzz?"
2nd Prostitute: "No, but I've been swung around by the tits"
And that has nothing to do with today's* news that everybody's favourite tennis playing zombie, Tim Henman has been captured by the rozzers in Newquay. According to the news article sent in by regular Funjunkie reader, my Mum, aparently he'd been spotted battering what he thought to be a large Box Jellyfish which turned out to be a diver with a plastic bag on her head.
So is this the end for the Wimbledon Wonder? Perhaps not, since it's well known that people who come into contact with the undead soon turn into zombies themselves. Will Tim escape? Find out in the next exciting episode of The day Tim Henman escaped from Jail after turning the police into zombies.
*Actually yesterday's, but I was too busy recovering from Saturday night to post it.
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OK people, cringe time.
Reg's pics from the UK Webloggers' Xmas Party 2003.
Excuse the lame Photoshop web gallery - there were too many photos to manually do it.
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I just want to thank everyone for turning up to the UK Webloggers' Xmas Party on Saturday - it was a blast!
Whilst we're prepping the snaps, currently over 56 Megs worth (not not that sort of Meg) please go and read Gert's and Annie's succinct and accurate accounts, James OddBlog's moblog during the night and looksee Genius' and Tom's photogalleries (ignore my beautiful sweat patches, I'm a class act, me), as well as D's take on Jane Perrone and Tom Coates', ahem, disagreement.
Great to meet weblogging heroes of mine, such as Meg, Matt, Tom, Cal, Anna, Tim, and others.
Again, thanks to everyone for making it a great night and for turning up! Wahey!
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It was quite odd putting a few names to faces at the weekend. Wild and I finally got to meet Taz (who has an incomprehensible Geordie accent). We found out that Manic isn't the 'angry young man' that we expected him to be, rather a besuited family man (who's bad at rugby). I obviously spoke to lots of other people too, as I have pictures to prove it, but the recollection is a bit blurry...
 Anna (Little Red Boat), Taz, Wild, Reg
We'll be making lots more pictures of the party available throughout the week. Please put your hands up and identify yourselves.
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We're kicking off the FJ advent calendar with forum regular Fat Merecat. He can be seen here delivering the first of the festive sporks:
...which leads us nicely into the fact that there are a couple of new spork pictures from the UK webloggers party at the weekend. Including a few of our leader, Richard Wild. I knew I'd get him one day.
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LOTR bloopers?
Enthusiasts of Movie-Mistakes.com have noticed many "bloopers" in Lord of the Rings. They report that in one scene there is a car driving across the horizon; in another, the hobbits are wearing shoes; in another, where one of the black riders is chasing the hobbits onto the ferry, he is clearly wearing a Sony Walkman.
Unreliable Facts from The Brains Trust |
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"The French are not normally a Nordic skiing nation."
- Ron Pickering |
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DeathGob
