Mmmmmmmmmmm Pie.

The following blog post is brought to you by:

Pie. One of the greatest inventions EVER. Fuck cures for diseases or space exploration, Pie is where its at people! Originally created by Thor himself, the idea came from thinking of ways to successfully preserve and store food for long journeys, like when he was going all the way from Midgard to Asgard. Or some shit like that.

"I fucking love pie me."

So anyway, this weekend i was in Skipton, North Yorkshire, and i was tasked with trying pies from two famous pie shops to give a verdict on who did the best Pork Pie. Yeah, i know, i get all the shit jobs. Because i'm such a funny bastard, i said i could possibly compile my results in a "pie-chart": 

Pie even makes Pac Man die.

Now i'm no food critic and i reckon even if i did try to right a review, it'd be boring as hell. So instead i'll compare the two and score them on a Star Wars episode scale. I could have just got them to fight, like Harry Hill does, but i'd rather just nom them.

Contender: Skipton Farmhouse Fare Ltd.

These guys are apparently the Supreme champions of the great northern pork pie competition 2010! Ok glossy balls, lets see what you got!:

Appearance: Attack of the clones

Pastry: A new hope

Texture: The phantom menace

Taste: Revenge of the Sith

Contender: The Celebrated Pork Pie Establishment

The only reason we found this place is the fact that there were shit loads of people stood outside. It was just like Batman hiding in the rafters, waiting to throw a Bat-pie at your face:

Appearance: Revenge of the Sith

Pastry: A new hope

Texture: Return of the Jedi

Taste: The empire strikes back

Well, its kind of a land slide victory there. Everyone knows that The Phantom Menace sucks donkey balls.

"I declare The Celebrated Pork Pie Establishment the Winner! Now if you'll excuse me i shall return to the 'bark' side. I hate my life."

Morgan.

Fat Thor borrowed from here.

In space... no one can hear you [insert word expressing mild peril here]

Grettings earthlings!

This week the smaller, gormless, geekier brother of space exploration agencies, the ESA (European Space Agency) announced that the Russian "Phobos-Grunt" (really?) space probe that was destined for Mars is a mission failure and got no further than the ceiling of an average Swallow. A European one.

This very same week, NASA (all together now, USA! USA! USA!) have been making the final preparations for their 'Mars Science Laboratory' which i must say, looks and sounds AWESOME.

It even looks Gangsta in the press images:

"Who then now, Bitches?!"

Now i'm not gonna bore you with specs and techno babble but what i will say is that amongst its awesome features, this thing comes with a laser beam for vaporising material SEVEN METRES AWAY. Yes, thats right, a fucking laser beam! AND! What i think is the coolest thing is that the MSL will land on Mars via a 'sky crane'. For those of you that don't know what this is, the closest way i can describe it to you (or rather, the way i want to think of it) is like a Pelican dropping a Warthog into a battlezone:

"Oh and make sure you take some soil samples and do some 

science shit BEFORE you start shooting the place up!"

Of course the fact of the matter is that there's more chance of finding life on mars than there is of Simon Cowell finding some clothes that fit him correctly. Think of it this way, if marauding robotic contraptions came from another planet and started patrolling the streets, taking samples of dog shit and photographing the floor, would you be out in public seeing if you can get in one of the shots? Hell no.

Now, don't get me wrong, i'm not one of those ignorant fuckers who thinks that Humans are the only intelligent race in the Universe, i'm sure you'll agree ability and thought are two different things entirely. There's fucking things living between our toes that have more intelligence. I'm just saying that Captain Zorg won't hang around for a photo opportunity. 

There is of course the mystery of the British led Beagle 2 mission to mars, which having successfully ejected from its carrier ship, the Mars Express, then vanished without contact. Wouldn't it be cool if it came back complete with a tan and a jar of Martian humbugs?

Morgan.

Rage mode.

Now i can be a really happy go lucky kinda guy, without pretty much a care in the world. Let me explain further through the medium of a pie chart:

 

 

 Ah shit, i didn't think the results would come back like that. Well yeah, ok i guess i can be a bit of a hot head at times. But doesn't everyone get a little pissed off sometimes? That fucking moron that pushed in front of you in the sandwich shop on your lunch hour? All he's done is add an extra say, 30 seconds to your wait time? maybe even a minute? But its the principal of things! You were there first! The thing with me is that i think rage is much like a naturally occuring mineral.

 

"Fuck you, Potassium!"

  

 

 

And i'm sure i'm not the only one with the patience of a really pissed off saint. But how far can you let it take you? One minute you're in McDonalds being told its past 11am and you can't have a sausage Mcmuffin, the next minute you're waking up in the middle of a forest, with someone elses blood on your hands, miles away from home and not knowing how the hell you got there.

"I want a Hashbrown! NOW!"

 

Obviously its not good for your health to be in a constant state of arsed-off-ness. It can lead to things like high blood pressure, sleeping problems, sweating, loss of appetite and basically turning you into Emperor Palpatine. Do you want to wake up one morning realising that you've enslaved most of the galaxy, killed all your friends, everyone hates you and you have really fucked up skin? No, me neither.

 

 

So, what can be learned from this? Next time someone pisses you off, take it in your stride and count to ten. You know what 'they' say, "Life's too short!". Yeah well my temper is too short and who the fuck are 'they' anyway? It takes less muscles to smile than it does to beat the crap out of someone with a piece of iron rebar, or some shit like that. Well, 'they' say we need to get more excercise nowadays don't they?


Happy shiny Morgan.

The top 5 reasons why we..... OMG! ITS A ZOMBIE!!

Aha! So you've been instantly put on the back foot. There you were, expecting to read yet another tired example of "list based" comedy and what happens? A zombie puts a brick through your living room window. Yes, that’s right, a fucking zombie.

So, how will this pan out? First of all you're at a disadvantage, sat there in your favourite spot relaxing, the last thing you were expecting was the Undead paying you a visit on a lazy Sunday afternoon; unless of course you're a Texan and always poised at the window with a hunting rifle.

 What’s the first thing you have to hand? Hot cup of coffee?

"How about some nescafe, undead fiend?!"

 

"Urrrrrrrrggggghhhhhh......"

That wasn't the sound of him not enjoying some smooth roast, he wants juice instead. Your brain juice!

Unfortunately our maggot ridden friend doesn't seem the least bit concerned about the new stain on his suit, so what the hell are you going to do now? Yes! You've spotted the mirror on the wall! Now smash the mirror over the zombies head, hope that bad luck thinks the zombie smashed it and in turn causes the zombie to get bad luck so he then trips over the rug and smashes his brains all over the fire place! It's an infallible idea!

What? You've done that and he's still shuffling towards you? Fuck.

Ok so now then, you must run for the door leading upstairs, close it behind you and then barricade it with a bookcase behind it. It opens outwards?? Shit, sorry i'm panicking now.

Lets take a step back and analyse the situation. You're being attacked in your own home by a Zombie. You could try calling the Police but obviously when the undead are present, all phone lines mysteriously don't work anymore. How about you put on the movie "Land of the Dead" and hope the zombie goes and attacks George A. Romero for making it instead? You threw it away? Ok, yeah that’s understandable. Run upstairs anyway and review your options!

So now you're upstairs, i recommend going to the bathroom and looking for a can of "Zombie-be-gone" under the sink. Alright, alright this is no time for jokes, i get it!

The zombie has now moved to the foot of the stairs and he's making his way up so i suggest that you find things to throw down the stairs at him to slow him down until the army comes to save you. Yeah, they will come, i promise...

After the volley of hygene products and dirty washing, the zombie is now at the top of the stairs, with a "Goonies" t-shirt on his shoulder and a piece of your underwear on his face.

This isn't going very well is it? Well think again buster! There's a can of deodorant on the shelf and a lighter in your pocket. Remember when you used to recreate a napalm attack with the toy soldiers when you were younger? That's right, let the motherfucker burn!!!

 

So not only do you have a zombie coming for you, but you now have a fucking flaming zombie coming for you. Ok, put him out again with some toilet water.

You've played Resident Evil right? You can just simply run around him in a circle and escape back down the stairs and out the front door! If Leon can run circles around multiple zombies, so can you! Go for it!!

SO..... You're now back downstairs and nursing a pretty severe injury to your forearm from when the zombie grabbed you as you tried to run around him. I don't mean to put a downer on your already pretty shitty day, but you see your new family member coming down the stairs there? Yeah. Within 18 to 24 hours (depending on whether you're already a bit slow) you will unfortunately join the ranks of the undead. So you may as well end the suffering now and take your own life rather than be still concious when he eventually gets to you and starts to chow down.

Look at the positives:

1) No more bills to pay.
2) Crash course dieting.
3) No more need to take a shower.
4) No more queueing - everyone runs in terror.
5) Its always "All you can eat" for free at the shopping centre.

Well, i guess its not that bad after all, you should be glad that he decided to come round to see you. Now just lie back and sleep a deep sleep my friend, wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, go to work as normal and hope that you're still very aware of what’s going on around you as you rend your work colleagues limb from sweet, tasty limb.

Top tips: How to use your arse as a plumbing tool.

Picture the scene: You've just given birth to Mr. Hankey's little brother (or his big brother, depending on whether you've just eaten a whole tub of Twiglets), you stand up and after admiring your creation you put the lid down. Now comes the flush; instead of hearing the watery swirling of victory, you hear the bone chilling gurgling of doom. Thats right people, your toilet is blocked and there's a miniature brown version of the QE2 sailing within.

What now?! i hear you cry. Well before you roll up your sleeve and have the anti-bacterial wash on standby, pack it in you dirty bastard! Thats not necessary.

Follow these steps for a bog related victory:

1) Put up the lid and also the seat. I know its hard because the jobby is staring at you but fear not, he'll be gone soon.

2) Gauge the depth of the water; ideally there is some kind of drainage which is good no matter how slow. Let the water fall so its a good 4-5" away from the top of the bowl.

3) Clean the top of the bowl with anti-bacterial wipes or similar, we don't want anything nasty touching you now do we?

4) Drop trou to expose your bare arse. This isn't going to be pleasant but you need to now sit on the bare porcelain of the toilet, i know its cold but fall in Marine! (obviously don't literally fall in).

5) Now, keeping your legs as close together as possible to form an airtight seal, slowly move up and down on the seat as if you were on a space hopper in slow motion. On the up motion take let some air in and on the down motion you are pushing the air through to shift the blockage. Basically your arse is a giant plunger. (NB. if you have a larger than normal arse, try sitting sideways).

It shouldn't take more than 30 seconds to defeat the blockage.

Disclaimer: Although this is a tried and tested method, i'm not a plumber and will not accept any responsibility if this either doesn't work, if you damage your toilet, or for that matter your arse. Oh and if you get piss water on your balls thats not my fault either.

Happy plunging my lovelies!

Morgan.

God bless America.

I'm not going to talk to you today because its the weekend and i want to chill out!

Only kidding, i've always got time for you guys (honest).

So, i've seen a few programs on tv this week and something was provoked deep inside me which compelled me to write to you all today; the view Americans have on the British.

Now this is not me instigating a hate campaign against America (there's a lot of countries who already do that shit) i actually love America and most things that come out of it, apart from of course Justin Fucking Bieber. I can't honestly list everything that is brilliant about the US but just think of all the films, the music and the food! Oh god the food. (Man vs. Food is one of my favourite shows).

Anyway back to the point. It's apparent that most Americans believe we spend all day sipping tea and listening to classical music whilst playing Polo. We all know Peers Morgan and Russel Brand personally. Oh, and who could forget the fact that 90% of us are called Hugh and we all talk like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.

Ok, i accept that we're very stereotypical of Americans too. I was watching Hellraiser last night and thinking how fucking dumb the American guy is portrayed in that film. I mean come on, the poor bastard buys a house to live with his complete bitch of a wife, who then gets it on with his dead brother in secret. How can this bloke not realise that there's a fucking zombie living in one of the spare rooms? And people, why is the zombie not paying rent? He's missing a trick there.

Anyway, i'm gonna keep this short and sweet because i'm off to see Immortals in 3D at Cineworld and i'm gonna eat all the popcorn, hotdogs and coca cola i can get my chubby little British digits on.

Keep it real homies, 

Morgan.

Its a vicious circle.

My cat likes radiators.