After almost six long months of writing random words and pictures to entertain a man in the Midlands, I today announce I’m bringing the curtain down on In Through The Out Door But Then Back In Again II. I need to move on, I need to grow, I need, most importantly of all, to try flogging you shit … so welcome, my friends, to In Through The Out Door But Then Back In Again III
I’m often asked how we solve the problem of the country’s growing teenage gang culture. “Why, easily!” is my stock answer, “Throw ‘em in a trench and dissolve ‘em all with potassium and quick-lime!” Apparently this is ‘inhumane’ according to the politically correct mob, so here are a few other suggestions that won’t see me brought before the Nuremberg beak for supposed ‘crimes against humanity’ …
Happy Slap ‘Em Back
Why not? Teenagers would soon get the idea this sort of random infliction of violence isn’t much fun when the shoe’s on the other foot. I propose councils set up a network of licenced happy-slapping patrols that will trawl shopping precincts, public parks and the back of Tesco’s looking for teenagers. When they find them hanging around being anti-social, they can slap ‘em around until they’re half-dead while filming the whole shebang on their mobiles. As well of stopping kids whacking citizens about for no reason, it would have the added advantage of giving off-duty nightclub bouncers something to do other than eating bananas and being involved in low-level organised crime.
Make Them Swallow Rabbit Shit Preventatively
On a child’s thirteenth birthday, he or she should be forced to swallow a pound of rabbit shit. Once the punishment has been administered the father – for this is man’s work – should tell the child “There’ll be plenty more where that came from” if he or she strays from the path of righteousness. Later, when a child enters the choppy waters of full-blown adolescence, any infraction from ‘Lack Of Respect’ to ‘Stabbing A Headmaster In The Face With An Ice-Axe’ could be met with the administering of another pound’s worth of rabbit shit. This is the sort of punishment former miscreants will chuckle over in later life as they, too, force rabbit shit down their own children’s throats while saying it never did THEM any harm.
White Dog Shit Walkabout
Slightly less harsh than forcing small children to eat rabbit shit is White Dog Shit Walkabout. Any teenager found guilty of stealing cars, beating up old ladies, or posting photos of his balls on Flickr is banished to the wilderness in a loin-cloth with a big spear. He is told not to come back until he has hunted down and trapped a lump of white dog shit (Crappus Elusivus Canis), a sight now so rare in Britain that children born after 1987 think it an urban legend. To stop him simply joining another family, or painting brown dog shit white, his face should be branded with the legend “I AM HUNTING FOR WHITE DOG SHIT AS PUNISHMENT FOR BEING A DISGRACE TO MY FAMILY” and his hands should be removed from the end of his arms. I understand this could hurt a bit.
Three Tit Loudspeaker Nose-Bollock Bladder-Sign Public Humiliation Extraordinaire
We all know how annoyingly shy and embarrassed teenage girls get. Well imagine how bloody awful they’d feel if, after committing some minor crime, they had an extra tit glued on in between the other two, a loudspeaker nailed to one hand announcing “I’M FAT! I’M FAT! I’M FAT!” over and over ad infitum, a pair of horse’s balls sellotaped to the end of their nose, and a sign glued to the other hand that read “CHRIST I NEED A PISS!”. Try hiding behind your hand with that lot hanging off you, you disrespectful little madam! I guarantee that, were this punishment to be implicated, crime committed by teenage girls would drop by 100%.
Throw Them In A Trench And Dissolve Them All With Potassium And Quick-Lime
I still reckon this one’s got wings.
Here’s a little something I cobbled together quickly for the Illustration Friday subject ‘Signs’.
(Click image to enlarge)
My three regular readers may recall I sent an idea to the Mattel Toy company for a new toy for kids (well … not girls) called Aslan In Vietnam. They responded by saying they’d destroyed my original e-mail and wouldn’t hesitate pilfering my idea and passing it off as their own if opportunity saw fit. Furious, I thundered back with a response that they’d better be bloody careful before they half-inched my ideas. Here is their reply (readers with a good memory may find this response eerily familiar) …
We would like to respond to you recent e-mail. We had no intention of offending you or your ideas. However, in light of the enormous number of ideas, concepts, and materials that Mattel develops in-house and that are suggested to it by third parties, it’s likely that the ideas, concepts, and/or materials that you submitted to us embody ideas, concepts, and/or materials that are identical or substantially similar to those that, in the past, were developed by our staff or submitted to us by third parties. Likewise, in the future, we may without any reference to your unsolicited submission, develop or receive from third parties ideas, concepts, and materials that are identical or substantially similar to those submitted by you.
Since Mattel doesn’t retain or review any submissions, any similarities that may exist between any submissions and any product from Mattel or any Mattel company are purely coincidental. Please note that Mattel doesn’t assume any obligation in connection with unsolicited submissions, including any obligation to keep it confidential and any obligation to notify anyone whether their ideas, concepts, or materials are identical or substantially similar to those that are developed by or submitted to Mattel.
We would like to reiterate, to solicit interest for your submission, you may want to establish a relationship with a professional design house or a broker that specializes in licensing or developing products for consumer products companies. For a list of such professionals, and for other information that you may find helpful, you may wish to contact the Toy Industry Association, at 212.675.1141, or www.Toy-Tia.org.
We recognize that your submission is an expression of your confidence in Mattel’s ability to successfully develop and market new products, and we appreciate your interest in Mattel. We wish you the best of luck in your endeavors and apologize for any disappointment this may have caused.
Sincerely,
Mattel Consumer Relations Department
Notice any similarities? Well, I’m buggered if I’ll lie down and take this without a fight! My response …
Dear Mr Mattel
I grudgingly thank you for your response to my last e-mail. I say ‘grudgingly’ because I can’t bring myself to be fully grateful for receiving exactly the same e-mail from you as before, but with the sentences ‘We would like to respond to you (sic) recent e-mail’ and ‘We had no intention of offending you or your ideas’ tacked on to the beginning. Indeed, seeing as your last e-mail outlining how you have no hesitation in pilfering the ideas of honest toy designers was what got me so worked up in the first place, I can only assume you didn’t bother to read my previous correspondence past the first line – if you had, you might not have been so insensitive as to repeat the stuff that got my goat to begin with.
I repeat – Saying you might, at some point in the future, develop a psychologically-deranged, armed-to-the-teeth, bullet-riddled African lion toy, and THEN pass the whole thing off as a coincidence is absurd. I sent you the plans, I get the glory – that’s how it works in my world.
Aslan In Vietnam is mine! The idea of a haunted lion packing heat in the theatre of war is mine! Any variation on a Christ-like, Rambo-esque, locked, loaded, and ready to rumble King of the Jungle for kids (well … not girls) is mine! Don’t think you can bring out some bloody imitation – Simba at The Battle of the Bulge or Parsley’s Korea for instance – and get away with it as a mere coincidence! Anything even vaguely resembling such a product (and that includes tigers before you start getting ideas) would be met with the full force of the law, don’t you worry about that!
Good God! Was this how it was for Barnes-Wallis? Did he come up with the bouncing bomb only to walk past a shop three years later and see his invention re-labelled ‘The Boinging Bombo’? Well? There’s no wonder inventors are all on the dole if major corporations such as yourselves would rather steal their ideas instead of paying folk their due. I thought we lived in a world of honour sir? Apparently we live in one where the big boys think nothing of disco-dancing all the way to the bank after trampling over the genius of others.
Shame on you!
Yours, disgusted
B P Perry
The world is full of jackals!
Dear Manchester United
Am I correct in thinking that under the government’s anti-discrimination laws you cannot refuse my applying for the position of mid-fielder without being accused of sexism, racism, ageism and unsuitabilityism? I don’t think you can, and therefore compel you, on threat of a court injunction, to consider me for the position the next time it comes up.
I am a fat, old, stringently anti-communist, Chinese woman who came to Britain in 1948 to escape that rat bastard Chairman Mao’s death squads. I have done nothing since except prostitute my body out for money. Sadly, as I’ve dried up, the money’s dried up, and this is the reason I need to become a well-paid Premiership footballer. I’ve bills to pay and now I’ve sold anything half-decent to those thieving bastards at Cash Converters, it’s top-flight football or having my fingers crushed in a vice to pay the debts I owe to a disagreeable gentleman called Alan Cope and his brother Ollie.
I reckon I’d do alright being a footballer. I’ve seen the game three times on my television when I couldn’t find the remote control under the mountain of litter in my house, and believe I could take a pretty good stab at the rules. I have noticed there seems to be a lot of running around however, and would ask that, if you were to give me the job, I could be allowed a nice sit down, a cup of tea, and a biscuit about every five minutes or so. I’m not so smart on my legs these days ever since Alan Cope broke my thigh bones with a meat tenderiser after I failed to pay him back the money I borrowed to buy an electric guitar I hoped to use when I applied to join Deep Purple. I certainly couldn’t take ninety minutes running around with those young bucks of yours – I’d probably suffer a complete rectal prolapse!
Thank you for considering me for the position of mid-field professional footballer and I look forward to hearing from you soon. In the meantime, can you advance me a sub of two thousand pounds or so? Alan’s an impatient man and won’t wait forever to get to work on these fingers of mine.
Yours truly
Bing Ping Perri
A nice surprise this morning. Instead of the usual barrage of junk mail, kebab-shop leaflets, charity begging letters and further correspondence concerning my ongoing war with Virgin Media, I received all of the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band’s albums, courtesy of Herr Rowley and the good people at EMI. I actually own them all already, but not with all the new whistles ‘n’ bells that these re-issues contain. Finally I’ve got my grubby paws on such oddities as I Love To Bumpity Bump, When Yuba Played The Rhumba On The Tuba Down In Cuba, and Sofa Head. I’m as pleased as a pig dipped in shit.
Merci, Herr Rowley.
Because they’re all already millionaires thanks to timely investments in the arms trade on the eve of the Balkan War, the good folk of Classic Rock magazine passed on this cracking opportunity to me. I have to admit I’m becoming a bit cautious of fly-by-night offers of free money, as the people who send me them never seem to reply or, indeed, deposit any money in the accounts I keep sending them the details of. Still, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again …
From dixine mossa <dixine_mossa8@yahoo.fr>
Sent Fri 5/18/2007 12:36 PM
To dixine_mossa8@yahoo.fr
Subject FROM DIXINE MOSSA
I am dixine Mossa of Ivory Coast the son of Traore Kassim My father was a director of portion of the COMPAIGNE Of ELECTRICITY OF Ivory Coast until his death. He was assassinated by the rebels hang the political coup d’etat has Bouaké before his death he has to deposit a metal trunk which contain the sum of $16.500.000 USD (sixteen Million Five hundred and Thousand American Dollars). Who is currently keeps some in a company of safety deprives here has Abidjan this sum was for the importation of electric machines overseas. I want that you make me a favour to receive his funds in an account in sureté on your premise to benefit of the metal trunk which contain the money to invest this money in your country in branches of industry very profitable like the real estate and the industrial production and to thereafter come to join you to live with close to you in your country there to continue my studies and to invest the money with you as principal actor of the investments which will be made in your country. I will give you 20% of the totality of the sum to compensate for all the expenditure which will carry out you within the framework of this transfer and of your supports has my person. If you think possible of helping me, take care to join to me most quickly than possible. Please write to me via E email dixine_mossa8@yahoo.fr
Reception of this message and especially keep discretion THAT God Blsses You Thank You For Your Assistance.
dixine Mossa
How best to respond to a man with such a command of English? Why, in the only language he understands …
Dear dixine mOSSA
Thanking you from bottom of my arses and hoping every.thing is WEEL in COITE OF MANY COLOUR d’IVOIRE. I too have lost father in big assassination wHen, big plane fell from sky AS you canj see hear – http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/851209.stm - so everything hunkee-doreee yes???? I very feel sorry that your father die like mine (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/851209.stm) and my father also forget to deposit big bag of USD$400,000,000 (fifty million dollars) before he crash plane as you can see hear – http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/851209.stm
I NOT aware of how B P pERRY able to put you. up in Great UK as I live in insane asylum and only get internt by stealing wi-fi form local scool yes? They not big on people seeing me as I have HABIT OF killing men with forks who LOOK ME IN EYE This has , happen since this incident – http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/851209.stm
I can take money from you howvere. PLease send me bank details and WESTERN UNION transfger cheque and I do rest yes? Thnkyou for writing/ yes? and MAY i suggest you get yourself a NEW SCAM?
Love
bp PERRRY SHEFFEILD ENGLAND UNITED BRITAIN
Dear The Government
As you know, you have imposed a smoking ban across England, to take effect on July 1st. I am a smoker and unrepentant alcoholic who enjoys smoking inside pubs because pubs are where I spend virtually all of my waking hours. As you can understand, our two worlds are about to collide as the unstoppable force of Nanny-state interference meets the immovable object of free-wheelin’ obdurance.
Well here’s the thing – thanks to an ancestor making a bloody fortune out of the slave trade back in the good old days, I’m also an eccentric billionaire and have decided to put my money where your interfering hand isn’t welcome to challenge you and your ridiculous ban. I announce today my intention to open a pub where smoking will remain allowed throughout!
You see, I have discovered a flaw in your policy that a man as rich as I can ruthlessly exploit. As your police officers and law courts frantically issue fixed penalty fines to both myself and my customers, I will simply pay them off out of the vast amounts of interest my enormous fortune earns every second of the day. As the fines roll in, the free money rolls out, and the roll-ups keep rolling … huzzah!
I’ll swim through blood before I smoke in the gutter like a common tradesman, even if it means starting up company after company that does nothing but aid my intention of carrying on smoking indoors. Believe me gentlemen – while there’s still breath left in my haggard lungs, there’ll be one corner of this little island that will remain forever England, forever free, and forever cancerous.
How d’you like THEM onions?
Yours
Lord Bentley Partington-Perry
Slave Trader to the Crown
Dear Mars Bars
As a fully paid-up member of the meat-eating community (a carnivore man and boy, and bloody proud of it) I felt compelled to write to express my outrage at the news that you’re removing meat from your products. I’m sure I’m not the only one that sees the chicken bone inside every Twix finger as integral to its character - I somehow doubt substituting a bit of tree bark or some pollen or whatever it is these bothersome vegetarians eat will produce that smooth, yet teeth-shattering, flavour I’ve come to know and love.
And what of the trotters in Maltesers? The brisket that lies at the heart of a Galaxy Caramel? The creamy, flavourful slice of lamb’s liver that’s Ying to a Bounty’s coconut Yang? God, next you’ll be telling me you’re removing the topside from M&Ms!
Isn’t it about time chocolatiers stood up and defied these do-gooding fascists with their mung bean-centric view of the Universe? If a stand isn’t taken now there’ll be no roast chicken inside Easter eggs next year and no cold cuts in your selection box come Christmas. You mark my words this is the thin edge of an intrusive, namby-pamby, intolerant tofu wedge.
I’m damned if I’m dancing to the tune of these fruit-guzzling, Guardian-reading, Nazi, left-wing, communist, tree-hugging bastards and neither should you, the producer of this country’s finest meat-based chocolate products, do likewise. Take a stand Mars Bars! Take a stand before Skittles lose their unique, straight-off-the-bone flavour!
Yours, outraged
B P Perry
Last But One King Of Scotland
Oh Cutty Sark! Cutty Sark!
Did you have to rhyme with lark?
You didn’t even burn down in the dark.
Where’s this poem’s arc?
Cutty Sark it’s so lame
You didn’t rhyme with ’shame’
Because it was a bloody shame
And not so much of a lark.
Well that’s crap
