All hail the Digital Badger! For he has put together a choice collection of bits from Series 2 of The Bearcast.
Series 3 is pretty much around the corner so until then… enjoy the excellence of stuff from before. Eey!
Series 3 of The Bearcast is coming soon! Eey!
It’s the end of the world! 2012 is approaching with the hobbled gait of a determined but very drunk assassin.
With any luck we’ll all be destroyed before the land is suffocating under the weight of loads of people in shorts running about a bit being all athletic and suchlike.It seems to me like the Olympics is having the same effect similar to that of a bunch of teenagers realising that their parents are coming back off holiday today and the house is a wreck.
I’m often walking by scaffolding after scaffolding, site after site of repairs, demolishing, rebuilding, jazzing up, renewing… plentifold extravagance that leaves me confused and still sober. So before I walk through the hallowed doors of my local for a pick-me-up or two I stare at the cranes and the gobbing builders and just shout, “Oi! Nuffing wrong with it. Piss off.”
I can’t see the point of it all. The air is filled with drills and hammers and swearing and big builders vehicles rumbling and hissing through all the hours and putting me well on edge. Telly coverage is already picking up and will soon fill our senses with no room left in life for other, more noble pleasures such as shouting at Eastenders or watching The Sweeney and then running round the house pretending to shoot at scumbag crooks before banging your knee and trying not to cry because you’re a grown up now and your mum is in another county. And with the coverage growing, we’ll also get to see more of that bloody awful logo. What a bloody mistake that was! Back in 2007 after the unveiling of this gobstrosity, early indications were a little poor:
“We’ve had a huge reaction to the launch of the new logo – most of it negative.”
And in most recent news, hopeful that the organisers will finally take the bloody hint and change the damn thing:
“Iran could boycott the London Olympics after claiming the Games’ 2012 logo is “racist” because it resembles the word “Zion” – a biblical term for Jerusalem.”
So to summarize: Fuck it in the ear.
The benefit of living with a Doctor Who fan and podcaster is that I can secretly indulge in my own little worship of the show. I reckon my secret’s safe! Just watched Kinda, 5th Doctor story, which I actually remember from my youth. Due for release on 7th March The Mara Tales is looking mighty fine so far! The Biggest let down of the first tale, Kinda, was the rubbishy puppet snake at the end but… there’s a CGI option you can watch that is frankly flippin’ excellent. The Mara at the end looked bloody awesome! I had to have a strong cup of coffee and a ciggy to calm myself down. Brilliant!
This makes up for my night at the pub last night. As anyone who has read The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse will know, drinking for our kind is a tricky affair because, as recorded quite accurately in that book, our legs get drunk and trying to stand on your head so the booze reaches it is fraught with peril and threats of being barred. Which is what happened to me. Went to a pub in the city and it was full of suits and estate agents and iPad wielding tossbags. Trying to balance on my head at one point got me a shove which pitched me to the floor and then the swearing kicked in and I broke someone’s ankle.
Time… for a bacon sandwich while I wait for my local to open. They love me there.
Guh. Might have been a pie that was off, or the beer or the wine I had yesterday but my tummy is a bit iffy today.People often ask me how I’m alive and after I joke about it being a bloody miracle, seeing as I drink most pubs dry of an evening and sleep in a kebab given half the chance, I realise they mean because I’m made of cloth and stuffing and therefore shouldn’t technically be moving about being all sentient and that. I’ll let you into a little secret… I don’t bloody know!
I eat and drink and that gets turned into stuffing that gets absorbed or pooped out and suchlike and so forth. So I tell people, “I just am.” Right then, I’m off for a cure-all full breakfast and then going to sit in the pub with a newspaper (drawing moustaches and horns on all the pictures and filling in rude words in the crossword puzzle). Come join me! Buy me a pint and I’ll say, “Thanks!”
If I did have such a thing as a business card, what would I put on it other than my contact details?
Watching Marty ordering his last night I was surprised he didn’t add “Waster, Fat Bastard, Sheep Botherer” under his job title or profession or whatever it is he claims he does to keep me in beer.