Archive for yes they’re real

Ten Totally True Things About Bisexuality

1. If you take one straight person and one gay person, add them together and divide them in half, you will get two slightly bewildered bisexuals.

2. Bisexuals are almost, but not entirely, invisible. They are easier to see at night, since they have a faint purple glow. The female of the species is a darker shade of purple and is therefore easier to see. All bisexuals show up in photos, provided they are holding a pint of cider at the time.

3. Scratch a bisexual man and you get a gay man. However, scratch a gay man and you get a bisexual man, so it’s probably better not to scratch anyone if you can help it.

4. When bisexuals get married they must include the word “ostrich” somewhere in their vows, or they will lose their powers.

5. All bisexuals can fly, but they don’t, out of consideration for the environment.

6. The initiation ceremony for bisexuality is too complicated to explain, and is therefore known as the TOCOTOX. It can involve vegan cheese, the scent of gardenias, and a pencil.

7. If you squeeze a bisexual correctly they will emit a rainbow-flavoured fluid known colloquially as “bisexijuice”. One drop will cure the common cold. Three drops will send you back in time to a point just before you took the three drops.

8. Bisexuality can be caught like flu. Signs of infection include a sudden desire to wear purple and the inability to make decisions without consulting a minimum of eleven close friends.

9. If you play 80s pop music near a bisexual they are legally obliged to dance to it. If they don’t, you are entitled to conduct a citizen’s arrest.

10. Bisexuals dissolve in lemonade and are therefore scared of all fizzy drinks. Do not use this against them, it’s cruel.


Bonus fact: any building covered in a giant purple ribbon is secretly bisexual.


By sheer coincidence, my novel is also funny and also has bisexuals in it.


Can you bear it? The Build A Bear experience

There is a new member of my family. He is a white teddy bear with brown eyes called Michael, dressed in a surfer top and shorts topped with an elegant grey waistcoat. If you press his hand he sings “Who Let The Dogs Out?”. He has a passport, a birth certificate, an online presence and a cardboard house with a door and window.

What this all means is that today I went to a Build a Bear shop, or ‘workshop’ as they describe it. And although I don’t normally write reviews of shops I have visited (“Boots offered a gratifying variety of tampon sizes”) I am impelled to do so this time because of my newly discovered and grudging, yet genuine, admiration for the Build A Bear brand. It’s so very – all-encompassing.

Our Build A Bear journey started virtually: my daughter Rosalind* signed up to, and as a result asked to go to the real-world shop. Normally I’d have put her off. The only thing I knew for certain about Build A Bear is that it costs money, and the only thing I knew for certain about our finances is that they’re in need of some gentle handling. But for a variety of reasons – one of which was the fact that the school summer holidays have just started and we needed activities  – I felt like saying yes, so I did. (Earning myself, incidentally, the title of Best Mummy In The World, And On Jupiter, And In The Whole Galaxy Everywhere. Autographs on demand.)

So what happens is, you go to the shop, and first you choose a ‘skin’. This is the empty, furry shell of your future best friend. They lie heaped in big soft piles, like rabbit skins. (Not that I particularly know what rabbit skins looks like except when they’re on rabbits, but you can picture the image I’m going for.) I quite fancied the one decorated in rainbow hearts, but Rosalind tastefully opted for plain white. She also evaded my attempt to direct her towards the mini, cheaper versions. They were £8; the most expensive skins I saw were £18; the white teddy was £11.

Is anyone else thinking "Eeek! Multicoloured chicken pox!"?

I initially thought this covered everything, but was quickly disillusioned. Rosalind scampered off to choose clothes and came back with the aforementioned surfer outfit and City waistcoat for £8 and £3 respectively. She was being frugal. There were shoes, hats, swimwear, lightsabres, pyjamas – I began to realise what I’d got into. But it only fully hit me during the next two stages.

After you choose the clothes, a friendly assistant takes you off to choose what the bear will say – £2 for pre-recorded, £5 to record your own voice. I made the tactical error of staying at a distance for this, which is why Michael the bear ended up with my least favourite song, if I can call it that, of all time. Then it was time to give him his heart and his stuffing.

You could buy, for £4.50, a beating heart. A beating heart for a teddy bear. I held one in my hand and was evenly divided between awe and horror. Thankfully, Rosalind found it “too freaky” and opted for a fabric non-beating version. It was inserted, and she helped operate the big stuffing machine. A few post-operation stitches and we had a bear.

As we queued up to pay I could have bought a toy mobile phone or a toy music player for Michael, or sunglasses, or bedding, or roller skates. I did buy a passport. Every time Rosalind visits a Build A Bear shop anywhere in the world, she can get it stamped.

Then, after paying, we registered Michael’s birth on one of the computers they provide in the shop, with special kid-friendly keyboards. We have a birth certificate scroll tied with green ribbon. If Michael gets lost at any time he can be returned to my daughter, provided he gets handed in.

Michael and his belongings were packed in a cardboard box decorated as a house with a door that really opens; he was given a hanger for his clothes. I paid £25, and my daughter has barely let Michael out of her sight since, except to go back onto and continue playing games on it.

I don’t know. It’s all very silly and arguably decadently capitalist, and surely somewhat overpriced; but I was left with a sense of respect for the sheer lengths the company has gone to to make it a full-blown experience, not just a purchase. It can’t be long before they team up with the Tiny Tears people and give their bears full digestive facilities (instead of nappies, you just take them into the woods and wait).

I guess the test is whether I’m still Best Mummy In The Universe tomorrow. For £25, I think I deserve at least a couple of days of adulation.

*As explained elsewhere, this is her name for the purposes of this website.


Trawling the net for fatherly fish

Father’s Day is a week on Sunday and I’m going to use that fact as a vague way to tie together the fun things I’ve found on the net recently. Such as this tiny yet functional firearm, for the elf-sized gangster in your family. Or for particularly realistic games of toy soldiers.

schroedingers cat

Or teeshirts! Everyone likes teeshirts. I especially like ‘end-head-start body‘, ‘Polar Bears are Soluble in Water‘, and ‘Look Out Schroedinger’s Cat, It’s a Trap!’

Or if you know a father with an exuberant Hercule Poirot-style moustache, why not make him a meal consisting entirely of moustache-shaped food using this mould?

Alternatively, these Dr Who papercraft kits will please any dextrous Whovians in your life. I like this Scrabble thermos flask too, though it doesn’t look as if you can actually play Scrabble on it, sadly. In the further realm of things I didn’t previously know you could buy are these miniature football stadiums (stadia?) for, er, about £80 each, and these amazing escaping light bulbs. Or who wouldn’t want a bouquet of flowers in the shape of a puppy?

If you’re extremely rich and/or eccentric, you could knit this dwarf helmet and beard (ok, maybe not before next Sunday), commission a Pirates of the Caribbean-themed movie theatre for $2.5 million (seriously, wow – or the Batman one?) or create some reverse graffiti if you know of any nearby very dirty walls. Or draw scenes from his favourite movie on your eyelids. Or buy his child this mech warrior. Fine, I’ve strayed a little from my stated theme but I’m just trying to get in all the cool things I found. And now I have.

Also useful as a handy disguise


Umbilical phone chargers and plush roadkill

You know what I really like? Things that look like other things, but are actually different things. Such as this van which is actually a tent and this cup of hot chocolate which is actually a cupcake. But the best thing is this: a wardrobe which conceals a secret playroom. Compared to the father who created this, the rest of us are merely cardboard cut-outs of parents whose children should regard them with justified contempt and scorn.

This Wicked Witch of the West bookmark is definitely a thing I would like to own, as is this flying superhero kite thing. And maybe some angel wings for my iPhone. But cool as this squirming umbilical cord phone charger is, I think I just want to admire it from afar. Far afar.

You know what else I like? Soft toy versions of everything. Such as the Plush Zombie, and My First Bacon, and Plush Sushi, and a plush Beating Heart that actually beats. And oh God you can buy plush roadkill. The internet has reached a new… something. Low? High? I can’t tell any more.


Further tasty virtual flies from the Web

- These toy photography pictures are very pretty. I think most people who possess both toys and camera must have tried this (or at least I have: see picture).

A toy lion at a festival

My pet lion at the Big Chill festival

Be your Own Souvenir. Who doesn’t want a tiny plastic army version of themselves?

- Oh wow, little paper record players as wedding invitations.

- Now that we know you can hack traffic lights, I foresee many more instances of this, and possibly the collapse of the traffic light system, probably followed by the collapse of civilisation as we know it. The link, by the way, may not be worksafe, depending on how your work feels about pictures of little green electric people copulating.

- Lacking though my hands are in the ability to make small exquisite cupcakes, I still appreciate the fact that other people can do it. These topiary ones are lovely, the rainbow ones appeal to my inner rainbow, and the steampunk ones – well, if the phrase ‘steampunk cupcakes’ doesn’t make you want to grim maniacally, then clearly you’re not me.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but: non-worksafe video of Creme Eggs having sex. Happy Easter.

- And finally, what I believe is the obligatory kitten link: Parenting is Thoroughly Sisyphean


Things to make your life more fun, an ongoing series


Wow, would you look at that?

Car eyelashes. When I showed these to my daughter, she said “No Mummy, you’re not allowed to get these,” and did an improvised interpretative dance called “Eyelashes on Cars are Really Silly”. This is a girl who has approved of my crocodile-shaped hat, my salt and pepper pots that hug each other, and my clock with a tiny elephant that trumpets on the hour, so if she thinks it’s too silly, I should probably listen.

Face pots. This has to be the perfect present for somebody, I just haven’t worked out who yet. Who doesn’t want plants on their heads?

- Mushroom cloud playhouse. I like looking at novelty treehouses and playhouses and there are some interestingly unique examples around, but I think this might win. Particularly if you want your child to be really, really aware of the possibility of large-scale nuclear war.

- Pirate ship bedroom. Fulfills every boy’s fantasy, it says, but my daughter and all her female friends would almost certainly kill or at least mutilate any of their parents to have this. It has a secret spiral slide. Every room should have one of those.

- Cupcake. Fondue. Cupcake fondue. Oh yes. How did I never think of this?

- Cat’s eyes for your ears. For when you’re going to a costume party themed around Eyes in Weird Places (note to self: hold that costume party sometime).


Everything is Satanic

I have been playing one of my favourite internet games. It’s very simple: think of something – object, person, event, concept – and see if you can find someone on the internet who believes it’s evil. Today we have:

bunny exorcist

British people:

British humour is the downfall of man. there would be no sin in this world without the likes of the Holy Grail and the Life of Brian.

Suspiciously tall boy band members:

What Bill and Tom’s true names are is every Christian’s guess, but there is no mistake that they are Nephilim, the unholy offspring of a fallen angel and a human woman. Both are very tall and have unnaturally large hands, with Bill, the more powerful, towering over everyone in the band by a difference of at least ten inches.

Apple (and computers in general):

…your programming is based on the hebrew YA, who we know was satan in disguise. If you open an executable program with notepad,you’ll see all the y’s with two dots above meaning YAH.

Yoruba or the evil Voodoo language is also a part of pre-installed languages like Windows 7. Just as the voodoo open source Ubantu or Linux systesm. All the same game.

Mother’s Day:

The so called ‘Mothers Day’ was observed in America first in 1914, the very year that Satan’s world ended and when he knew his time was short to get ready for the great battle of Armageddon. To induce people to bestow honor and worship upon mothers would be one step towards turning the people away from the worship of God, and this is one of his means of preparing Armageddon. On the face of it the arrangement of Mothers Day seems harmless and calculated to do good. But the people are in ignorance of Satan’s subtle hand in the matter, and that he is back of the movement, to turn the people away from God. The slogan is: “The best mother who ever lived”; the purpose being to establish creature worship, or at least to divert the attention of man from the proper worship of God.

(The quote is from the comments; the post itself concerns how men tipping their hats to women is Satanic. Because it makes women feel too important.)

Prince William

This is an easy one – roughly 50% of the internet seems to believe he’s the Antichrist.

…Certainly more than any other before or since, Prince William is definitely that candidate for that Evil power who has waited for such a charismatic man with the right lineage, to possess.

…there are some Christian fundamentalists who have pointed out that should Prince William become King, he would be called King William V* and by taking the W as two V’s and the I’s and l’s as the roman numeral for one, they have constructed an unsettling anagram: I AM VI VI VI or I AM 666.

Dolls, owls, frogs, unicorns and paisley:

I do realise there are no rabbits in this post.

bunny knifing

“Housecleaning” is what we call getting rid of anything in your home that may cause you demonic problems. Look through your home as you pray and the Lord will let you know what items need to be destroyed that have become an idol to you. Any type of collection – dolls (roots come from voodoo), owls and frogs (abominations to the Lord, as stated in the Bible), unicorns (lust and financial problems), etc. You may have only one or two of these items, but they are just as deadly as a collection. We have read and heard countless testimonies of what these items can do. Dolls levitate, walk and talk; owls caused cancer and when destroyed the person was totally healed. Please pray and seek the Lord regarding which items you must destroy.

…The paisley print is a satanic symbol from India, and also has a Catholic connection. satan wants to change the identity of man which is God’s love. satan wants to produce a beast incapable of love or feelings. If man wears satan’s labels, then satan has the right to attack.

And finally: what links Sarah Palin, Helen Keller and Bono?