Manic depressive woodworking with Graham ‘Graham’ Danglemouse

Ta dah! Your finished wooden tea cosy should look something like this. Enjoy!

Another new series on our least favourite web blog please! Yes, that’s what you all shouted to us last week. Some of you shouted it others decided to let us know that they wanted a new series by sending us various things in the post. Thanks particularly to a Mrs A. Coughingcheese from Hull, whose own highly creative death threat was perhaps our favourite out of the hundreds we have received thus far. So here, just for you Mrs Coughingcheese is that new series, from Graham ‘Graham’ Danglemouse, Monkeybroth’s resident manic depressive woodworking expert.

Hello everyone…Graham ‘Graham’ Danglemouse here with the first of my new series. Manic depressive woodworking with me, Graham ‘Graham’ Danglemouse.

I’ve got so much experience in woodworking you couldn’t even believe it. Working with wood is so rewarding and the list of stuff I’ve made from wood is longer than all your arms put together. Put together with wood glue of course!

Anyway, for the first part of my new series, manic depressive woodworking with Graham ‘Graham’ Danglemouse, I’ll be leading you through a step-by-step guide on how to create and craft, from the finest Scandinavian virgin woods, your very own, highly decorative and flexible wooden tea cosy. The nice thing about this project is the ‘wow’ factor and if you’ve got a creative eye you’ll love the veneer finish to this lovely piece.

For the more experienced woodworkers out there it’s also a great chance for you to use some of those specialist items. In particular this project will see you using your Remington Fuzz Away and the Lady Trim 500 automatic bikini line shavette/automatic screwdriver. Just be careful it’s on the shavette setting before putting it back into your wife’s washbag! Not that that affects me too much – Mrs Danglemouse is long gone. Not dead. Divorced. Apparently we didn’t communicate. Still, she said it wasn’t my fault it was hers so that’s something. There wasn’t anybody else too so that is a comfort to me. Anyway, she’s living now with another lady just outside Maidstone. They’re always hanging out together and I saw them once holding hands and cuddling in Budgens, so it’s great that she’s got such a good friend to rely on.  She would have loved this tea cosy.

Right then let’s get started. You might want to extinguish your pipe at this stage and roll up the sleeves of your lumberjack shirt. This is probably a two cups of tea job so if you have a wife make sure she’s got the kettle on. If you live on your own you’ll have to make do with a glass of water.

Step one: Cut out a large tea cosy shape from a piece of wood. If the wood is really thick you won’t have to cut out anything else, but if it’s thin wood then turn it over and cut it again, or something.

Step two: With your two bits of tea cosy shaped wood propped up against something firm, carefully shave and shape the wood using the Lady Trim 500. Set the trim to 180mm on bikini line setting (this may be marked as ‘Heavy set Greek’ or on later models ‘Mediterranean undergrowth’ If you’ve got the US version of this tool go for 230mm – or ‘70s bush’.

Step three: Once you’re satisfied, is anyone really satisfied these days? Not sure I am. But once you are as happy as you can be with the shape, buffer the wood with the Remington Fuzz Away. Go down to 76mm and you’ll affect the tapering zone. Not good. Instead rubberflex the hosepipe on the tool, fetch a pail of water and crankfix the upshot. Then musculate the scamp-pump until it’s oxidised. If you are feeling brave you could manipulate the bagfont until it bleeds green. Don’t over fox it though unless you have got plenty of Kleenex in the house. If you do over fox it just tweak the funk dial on the side until you hit a seam of purple.

 This will prepare it for the final veneer finish.

Step four: This is where you can get all creative. I made a tea cosy for Woodwork for Terrorists magazine a few months ago and used jelly tots and dried banana slices to give it that really professional finish. Do you what you like. Hundreds and thousands might look good. Or just smear cream all over it, whatever. For that lovely, just-stepped-out-of-a-salon professional finish, apply some grease glue and give it a sanding. Around 65mm will suffice but don’t suffocate the harpedge or you’ll end up badgering the hump. If that happens, one option is to coronate the hanky or, alternatively, just sherbet the mayor roughly. If you are doubling up and making one for a friend, if you have any, then the simplest way is to shark the yashmak until the Sherpa laughs.

Step five: Once you are fairly upbeat about how it’s all looking get a tea pot and firmly hammer both sides of your wooden tea cosy around it. Give it another shave and there you go. All done. Looks lovely that. Why not give it as a present or just look at it for a bit?

Brilliant! Well… what a project. That will keep even the most suicidal woodworking fan amused for hours. Don’t forget to tune in for more manic depressive fun with wood next time folks!

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Poetry corner

A gravy boat

Captions are hard sometimes OK?

Minstrel holes – by Bobby Biddy

Scant were the words of Geraldine’s mouse,
That lived out days in Minstrel holes
Gravid once was her lived in spouse
Played once for Barnsley and scored no goals

Gravy boats danced,
Gravy boats spurned,
Gravy boat cocked her a snoot,
Gravy boats turned
Gravy boats jumped
Gravy boats pillaged for loot

She glanced at frost ‘cross the Lillo,
Formed where once there were fields,
Reminisced while she peered through the shadow,
And thought ‘pon her days as a shield

Gravy boats danced,
Gravy boats spurned,
Gravy boat formed coalitions,
Gravy boats turned
Gravy boats jumped
Gravy boats on special missions

Her faded Formica told a few tales,
Of life on the open road and bathroom glue,
And nant it did bimp flont gibbousy nails
And bibidy bobbidy boo

Gravy boats danced,
Gravy boats spurned,
Gravy boat bounced around Clapham,
Gravy boats turned
Gravy boats jumped
Gravy boats talked to the tax man


Nature ramblings with Barry Frontalcheese

Welcome to the first of a new series – nature ramblings with Barry Frontalcheese. Every now and again, mostly if it’s a bit slack at work one day, Barry will be regaling you loyal Monkeybrothers with tales of the countryside. This week Barry sheds some light on the mystically ancient and mystical rural art of going for a poo in a tree.

Arguably there is nothing quite so quintessentially English as the ancient and mysterious ritual of pooing in trees. Many mistakenly believe that it was the Vikings who, while they were having a much deserved break from raping and pillaging, first introduced this wonderful tradition to these shores. However, while pooing in trees is mentioned in the Doomsday Book index under ‘P’, it’s not until much later that the mystically ancient, mystic and mystical ritual of pooing in trees really entered the English psyche.

For those of who you may be from abroad or London, pooing in trees is a form of English excretion usually accompanied by music. It is based on the rhythmic squatting and grunting by a group of men who poo in trees, or the ‘pappers’ of rural legend. Women were never allowed to honk one out at height – following a decree by papal envoys to England who, in 1470, stated that ‘womene who pooeth in the trees will be besette by licce and furevver live in synne.’

Implements such as sticks, swords, handkerchiefs and bells were traditionally wielded by the pappers as they sat and squeezed in the high boughs of oak trees, which, by a country mile, were the pappers of legend favourite receptacle. In a small number of rituals, the act of pushing out some dirty sausages, or the ‘papping’ was carried out while a young virgin girl from the local village stood at the foot of the chosen tree and shrilly blew a clay whistle to ward off both evil spirits and any foul maleveont odours.

Claims that English records dating back to 1448 mention pooing in trees are perhaps inaccurate. There is no mention of papping or pappers earlier than the late 15th century, although early records such as Bishops’ Pappis de bogge de tre mention pooing on tree roots, ‘hooling’ or urinating on bark to ward off evil spirits, and other papping style practices, such as the use of leaves, sticks and badger corpses as rudimentary cleft cleansing devices. Modern historians now agree that these Tudor practices bore the fruit of the modern pooing in trees movement.

These days and quite correctly doing a number two in a big tree is commonly thought of as a mainly English activity, although there are around 150 ‘papping’ groups in Iowa, Arizona and Northern Canada. British Expatriates have also done much to spread the art of fudging on a big branch in the Far East and Australasia, where up until 1963 it was still legal to wipe one’s crack on a live Koala.

Other countries too have their own dumping in undergrowth traditions, perhaps none more so than Austria and the small Alpine town of Vorsprungdurchtechnik. Each year, residents of the town clamour together in a small field to the west of the village to clear their pipes in the thick gorse bushes so renowned in the area. Indeed, a small statue Crappenupindetrees made by Erasmus Rubber in 1768 stands tall and erect as a reminder of the town’s pride in its outdoor brown drowning traditions. Visitors come from far and wide to see the spectacle and its not unknown for protagonists to bake one in the tummy oven for days before the event, to ensure those attending do not leave disappointed.

Lopping off bungle’s fingers – an oak tree yesterday and [inset] a fossiled ‘pap’ dated circa 1520.

For myself and all purists though, snipping off Chewbacca’s fingers in a tree will remain an English tradition – one remaining bastion against the legion of foreign imports which so blight our land, like Burger King, Clinton Cards, Curry’s Electrical, pancakes and vegetable samosas.

 More rural rumblings from Britain’s foremost idiot Barry Frontalcheese next time folks!


Poorly drawn pavement marking of the week…

The Bird-Man of Partridge Green…


Poetry corner

The Floral Hat by Margetea Flappys

It's nice isn't it?

Hattage.

To wither your hat so floral be,

That hat betched on fine memories,

Snunched from ericaceous bottled grasp,

Drunk from a hidden hip flask

 

Asked gurunder hats contentious tilt,

Fleeced of all its Mother’s Milk,

I mithered around a musky thunk,

And bothered memoires hastily shrunk

 

Madeleicly shong the beasts away,

Himpingly greened and kept at bay,

Bamping and fluntingly you beefed a chat,

Due to the gant of your floral hat


Tabloid Squirrel

The tabloid squirrel

He doesn’t write for Nuts magazine.

Gertcha! All the latest Hollywoodland gossip from Monkey Broth’s very own peeping tom rodent, Tabloid Squirrel…gertcha!

Fans of Gerry Lee-Boar ARE in luck this week as the radio celebrity has been snapped boaring-all at Longleat Centre Parcs. THESE images clearly show that, despite the Disc-Jockeys famous love of KP peanuts, he’s been working out la-boar-iously in pursuit of a hunky body!!

With all this GOING down, you’d be forgiven for missing the latest on-set tantrum by Bobby Stoat while filming the latest mega-budget horror flick, Albino Rabbits 2 – Carrots of the Unforgiving. He reportedly threw his own droppings at a main grip who’d asked if he would sign his Beano Annual. We can’t see that this is going TO help with his already shaky reputation for being awkward to work with! He’ll be losing fans by the stoat-load!

It’s been reported that model, Melly Grasshopper, will BE the new face of MoleSkins petit range. A bold move considering the flak that Melly received when her weight plummeted to under a gram for the Weasel-Wear fashion show. Still, considering she’s in the twilight of her career, I’m sure she jumped at the chance!

Is it just me that has NOTICED a striking similarity between Turbot Jones, the flamboyant front-fish of The Oxygen Boys and Guru-to-the-stars, Findley Bosh-Horse? They’ve both been seeing the pricy image consultant Dinky Bear for a fresh new look. Unfortunately it appears to be the same fresh new look! Let’s hope Findley’s not just a one trick pony and that Turbot’s not just fishing for compliments!!!

Ouch…. More awful puns and under-developed ideas with Tabloid Squirrel soon. Unless you beg us to stop…


Monkeybroth Public Service Announcements!

Monkeybroth Public Services Announcements

‘I don’t know who you are but you’re a read dead ringer for love, a real dead ringer for love’. So sang popular and hugely rotund front man Meat Loaf. And by the power of Greyskull he was right you know. Here at Monkeybroth Towers we take our public service commitments extremely seriously. We don’t know you from Adam, unless you are called Adam and we know you, but even then we don’t even know you. You could be anybody coming on our website and leaving it all messy and sticky with your views. Our point is we don’t know who you are but there is one thing we are sure of – you are a dead ringer for love in our eyes. Even you, Barry Frecklesack from Lowestoft!

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  • In 1947 the average size of a man’s ears was six inches long and three inches across. In 2012, that average size has shrunk to a shocking four inches in length and just two inches across. Please help us reverse this trend by making a donation today. There are many reasons why men’s ears have been shrivelling up like a mouse with rigor mortis over the decades; over-fishing, global warming and human predation are just three. The destruction of the Amazonian rain forests is another reason as is the fact that ears have just gotten smaller somehow. This isn’t some distant, third world problem – it’s affecting all ears everywhere, even perhaps on your head or on a head very much like it near you or not that near at all. Together we can do so much to enlarge men’s ears. Give us the chance to help men like Arthur Tidyhorse from Binkley whose own ears have shrunk by up to 30 per cent in the last decade alone. Arthur reports erectile difficulties and says his marriage has been hit by his ever decreasing ear size. Last week, Arthur lost his job and his driving licence – all because of his laughably small ears. You, yes you, could be next. So please, help Arthur and others like him by donating here today. www.bfgtakingthepiss.com.    Thank you…. 

 

  • Would you like to swing on a star? Perhaps you’ve always wanted to carry home moonbeams in a jar? Well now you can thanks to Pocket Planetarium. Brought to you from the makers of Flip-Flop Aquarium, your dreams of owning your own pocket-sized planetarium are just beginning. To get things started visit our website below and choose which stars, galaxies and horse-shoe style nebulae you would like in your pocket, or pockets. All that glitters in the firmament will be yours to own and house in your very own pockets! Impress your friends and neighbours by having lots of stars and other heavenly things right there in your very own trousers! Visit www.planetpants.org.uk  to start your celestial dreams today – they are not a million miles away you know (in fact we’re in Bedford).