Rainbow episode review: Keep Britain Tidy (also I’m pissed)

Rainbow episode review: Keep Britain Tidy (also I’m pissed)

Hello. I thought it would be fun to write a Rainbow review at 1 in the morning when I’m a bit hammered on gin. Let’s see if it is fun.

This episode is called ‘Keeping Tidy’. I assume it’s about the Rainbow gang not wanting to live among each other’s piss and shit, rather than keeping your pubes trimmed. Although Bungle, so you never know.

We begin with a moving panoramic shot (I originally typed it as ‘panoramic shit’), in which the director (probably Freddy), wanted to convey a sense of ennui and fin de siècle, by having Zippy’s crap strewn about the place.


I think the theme is ‘man’s inhumanity to man’.

Turns out Zippy is actually a tortured artist, and not just some scrote who leaves his crap and underpants everywhere.

Fun story: I love the mister, so I wash his pants. If they really loved Zippy like they claimed to, they’d worship him while picking up his discarded manifesta and bric a brac.

Please do remember that I have had many gin. Continue reading “Rainbow episode review: Keep Britain Tidy (also I’m pissed)”

The British Thanksgiving Parade

The British Thanksgiving Parade

“Hello, and welcome to the inaugural British Thanksgiving Parade! We’re you’re hosts, Wanda Mcgfyegf7yg and Bob Cahndhyrrg.”

“And let me tell you, we’re super excited to be here, aren’t we Bob?”

“We sure are Wanda!” Here in your England’s beautiful capital – Loughborough!”

“Which, if you’re not sure Bob, is pronounced “LUGOOBURHOOBURER. Isn’t that swell?”


“Didn’t London used to be the capital Wanda?”

“Errr… it sure did Bob, before… the war.”

“What war?”

“…AND HERE WE HAVE OUR FIRST BALLOON! Yes! Coming just round the corner, what better way to celebrate the English, Welsh and Scotch than by having the British national dish – the Greggs sausage roll!” Continue reading “The British Thanksgiving Parade”

How to wrap Christmas presents

How to wrap Christmas presents

Hello. Have you bought some shit for people because that’s what you’re supposed to do? You should probably wrap it, because I’ve learned from experience that handing people a Lidl carrier bag with stains on it doesn’t go down well. Especially if the bag is the present.

I’m no expert at wrapping presents. When it’s time for my annual wrapping marathon, I visit the local church and ask God if he will give me 20 fingers, just for the Christmas period. He hasn’t got back to me so far, so I have to make do with sellotape, 10 fingers that appear to have gone on strike, and a horrible optimistic feeling that I might magically be good at wrapping presents this year. Every time I’m disappointed, which is why my loved ones will receive vouchers next Christmas. Only they won’t because I’ll forget I’m awful at wrapping presents.

I’m going to take you through my annual present wrapping experience, so you can learn from my mistakes. I shall illustrate my various rage levels through the medium of dogs because, like them, when I get annoyed I piss on the floor. Continue reading “How to wrap Christmas presents”

The Easylife Catalogue: weed and porn and OH GOD MY EYES

The Easylife Catalogue: weed and porn and OH GOD MY EYES

Every so often, I’ll acquire one of those catalogues you get free in TV Quick, TV Week, TV Shite, or similar. My mother in law saves them for me because she knows I’ve got problems.

The latest catalogue I got has made me reconsider collecting them. Trust me, this one’s a doozy.


Looks pretty unassuming doesn’t it, with its… whatever the fuck that is on the front cover. I’ll admit, most of it is the generic wonder crap you see in all these catalogues – back enhancers, piss remover, things with pictures of owls on them… But halfway through, with no warning whatsoever, I stumbled on a section that has made me need therapy.

As we embark on this journey together, please remember that this catalogue’s intended market is 89 year old ladies called Mavis, whose primary hobby is telling people they’re 89.

Let’s begin with some normal tat.

US Army super torch

Continue reading “The Easylife Catalogue: weed and porn and OH GOD MY EYES”

World of Crap reviews Quality Street

World of Crap reviews Quality Street

In a break from my usual review style, I’m not actually going to be eating Quality Street, because Nestle can get to fuck. I will instead be recounting, from memory and Google images, the wrapped variety sweets of choice from the 80s. Back when Mackintosh did them.


Christmas was defined by chocolate in a lot of ways. Painfully rare for the rest of the year, Christmas was the time to splurge on the likes of these brightly foiled little beggars. Almost like decorations in and of themselves. Alongside the ubiquitous ‘Tin of Biscuits’ (more on that here), Quality Street was the major player in long term cylindrical, metal storage containers.

Emblazoned with beautiful artwork – a gentleman solider and his lady friend, dressed in military garb and a fetching bonnet respectively. The image still conjures stories for me to this day. Who were they? Was he back from a war? Had he brought her this very box of chocolates? Had they just finished shagging? In fact, were it not for the Victorian clothing they might very well be shagging in some of these shots. Though they might have had some of those weird access hatches…

Anyway, compare that the bland purple tripe of today, that someone knocked up in five minutes using Photoshop. We got hand drawn original artwork on our sweet tins back then! Had to really, as there were only four channels and they mostly stopped broadcasting around 8:30 in the evening. So it had to be good to stare at.

Also, some of the sweets had either the bloke or the woman printed on them. His and hers, ladies or gents. To a boy in the 80s it felt odd eating the “girls’ sweets”. Such was the conditioning of the school yard, but I wasn’t at school and she had the strawberry cream so… fuck that.

As always, dregs first…

(Editor’s note: We’re using pictures of the modern sweets, or artist’s impressions, because I don’t have a time machine and anyway I’m not your mother. Use your imagination.)

Toffee Penny (gold wrapper, bloke)

toffee penny

I hated these bastards with a passion; no one actually wanted them and they took forever to go. The remains of any tin became a sea of golden disappointment. I’d sooner open it and find the cheque books, birth certificates and spare wires to be fair. Continue reading “World of Crap reviews Quality Street”