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The Toxic Custard Workshop Episoder 226 to 230
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*******NUMBERS 226 TO 230*****************************BY DANIEL BOWEN*******
*****Please note, some of the quoted addresses within this file may no*****
***longer be correct. Please always use tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for enquiries***
"More junk Toxic Custard"
===== c ==== | | ====
| i | | | rk | Number 226
| x | us d | | |o s p |== l s November 21st, 1994
| o ==== tar == == ho | i e written by Daniel Bowen
TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Part 23 of stacks and stacks and stacks
1095 AD
Pope Urban II summons Christian nations to the First Crusade. He
sends out flyers:
Attention, Christians!
For the first time, the opportunity to get
your head knocked off in the name of
Christianity.
* Register by July 5th and get a 30%
discount on the normal registration fee!
* Fighting in all the best venues in and
around the Middle East
* Every fifth knight free! Yes, send five
knights for the cost of four!
1098
Crusaders take Antioch. They make it sound so simple in these
condensed histories, don't they?
1099
Crusaders take Jerusalem. For at least the third time in the last
thousand years, the Jerusalem tourist shops cash in. "No kidding
guv', this is the actual crucifix that Jesus himself got nailed to.
Honest. Look, you can still see the nails in it. Okay? Sold! Thank
you sir, see you again soon! ... Ah, good afternoon sir. May I
interest you in this; it's the actual crucifix that Jesus
himself..."
1135
England is plunged into civil war when Stephen, grandson of William
the Conqueror, allows himself to be elected king although he had
previously recognised Mathilda, Henry I's daughter, as heir to the
throne. Hold on, hold on, hold on. "Elected king"?!? So when did
they stop voting-in royalty? Perhaps this is something that needs
to be examined further? I wonder what sort of campaigns they ran?
"Vote Stephen - not just a monarch for today; a monarch for the
future."
1149
Second Crusade ends in failure. The Crusaders retreat, to revise
their strategies. They decide that since most of them took part in
the First Crusade, over fifty years before, that they should all
retire and let some new blood do the fighting.
1153
Stephen acknowledges Mathilda's son as his heir. There may be
opportunities here for jokes about (i) heir/hair, wigs, toupees,
etc, or (ii) Stephen dancing with Mathilda. Probably a waltz, ie
"waltzing Mathilda". Please choose one of these, or make up a joke
yourself, write it down on a piece of paper, fold into a small
cigarette shape and stick up your nose.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
JUNK
Why is it that desks seem to attract junk? They're natural junk
magnets. And why is it that there are never enough places for the
junk to be moved to during an emergency tidying session?
Why is it that staplers don't have a natural habitat - somewhere you
should be able to reasonably expect them to be. Instead, staplers
roam. They roam around the desk, around the room, around the
building... and around the world. The problem has got so bad that
many offices now have dedicated stationery detectives, who travel the
world, tracking down lost staplers, paper supplies, paperclips, etc.
Junk, of course, has a fascinating trait. It ceases being junk the
*moment* you decide to tidy up. What was a worthless piece of paper
with some scribbles, someone's sketch of a... ummm... well, I'm not
sure what it is... the slice of tree that was not worth its weight in
recycled paper pulp instantly becomes a document vital to the
survival of the human race the moment someone questions whether or
not it should go in the bin. How many times have you looked at a
piece of paper, and found yourself uttering to yourself the immortal
words:
"Nah, better not throw that out. Might need it".
And so, having made the decision not to throw it out, you have two
choices.
(a) Leave it exactly where it is, in the hope that you will actually
need it sometime in the next fifteen minutes.
(b) File it away in a folder of some sort with other such vital
snippets of information, so it can be sorted, out of the way,
completely lost if you actually do need it again, and thrown out with
the whole folder the next time there's a clean-out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hey God,
Where you goin' with that sun in your hand
Hey God,
I said where you goin' with that sun in your hand
I'm goin' down to make a new galaxy
You know I think I want to have a go at making another man
I'm goin' down to make a new galaxy
You know I think I want to have a go at making another man
Hey God,
I heard you put your humans down, put them down down...
Hey God,
I heard you put your humans down, put them down in the ground
Well not quite, they did it
You know I caught them messin' around, screwin' up their world
Well not quite, they did it
You know I caught them messin' around, screwin' up their world
Hey God,
What you gonna create now?
Hey God,
What you gonna create now?
I'm goin' to make slugs
Way down, in the Mercury mud
I'm goin' to make slugs
Way down, they won't screw the Earth
Ain't no creation of mine
Ain't gonna screw up no more worlds of mine
Hey God, you'd better run now... here comes your bus.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toxic Custard back-issues. Available by
ftp or www. Email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| Blah blah opinions my own, not
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| the opinions of who I work for
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| blah blah all that stuff.
Hey Pope,
Where you goin' with that nun in your hand...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Toxic Custard with teeth"
T O X I C C U S T A R D W O R K S H O P
F I L E S b y D a n i e l B o w e n .
N o . 2 2 7 , 2 8 t h N o v e m b e r .
THE DENTIST
Richmond isn't just where you change to and from loop trains. It's
also where I go to the dentist. We all know how essential it is to go
to the dentist regularly. But most of us don't unless we're forcibly
dragged there. And why? Because no matter how nice the dentist might
personally be... it doesn't matter if the dentist chats to you,
smiles as you arrive, or even decides the entire treatment is free,
it's still scary, and bloody painful.
The signs are there the moment you walk into the place. The posters
advising you how to look after your teeth. Reminding you to brush
three times a day. Reminding you to floss. Reminding you of how to
stay away from the dentist. They should just spell it out: "Look, the
better care you take of your teeth, the less often you'll have to
come back to this place, okay? Got it? Now scram. And take this free
toothbrush with you."
And as you wait, in the appropriately titled "Waiting Room", you see
the toughest of characters, entering the surgery, only to come out
half an hour later with blood on their jackets and a bandage holding
their lower jaw onto the rest of their skull. Okay, there were no
screams, but probably they've had it soundproofed. These guys are
*not* messing around when it comes to keeping your teeth clean.
It's finally your turn. You put down the magazine with the article
about Michael and Lisa-Marie's sex life. You try to look brave... and
go in.
There's the dentist, and the nurse. With the rubber gloves, all the
equipment, and the kind of cheerful expression that only medical
professionals who get paid *HOLY SHIT!* dollars an hour can have.
The chair itself is nicely re-upholstered, with plenty of padding to
make it comfortable. Of course, you just know that beneath all that
cushioning is something that belongs in a bad horror film torture
scene. Or perhaps that last bit in "Brazil". The arm clamps have been
taken off, but it's still basically the same chair. It probably dates
back to medieval times. A flash of lightning, and you're taken back
for a moment. "Tell me where the prince is, Sir Edward, or I fear
that you will be taken to the chair and have all your teeth removed!"
You sit down. A switch is pressed, and the chair begins to descend. A
bit like in an aeroplane, though generally in an aeroplane they just
bend over you to offer you alcohol and food; they don't stuff odd
pieces of metal down your throat.
The view from the chair is intimidating, to say the least. The bright
light in your eyes, the shadowy, masked figures leaning over you with
their sharp implements of dental destruction, reflecting the light.
And you, helpless, lying there, with your mouth gaping wide open, as
if surprised by your surroundings. I wonder how many people have
nightmares about being in this position at the dentist.
When it comes to dental care, most of us just have to put up with the
cleaning, and the fillings. With possibly an X-ray thrown in for good
measure. Spread over a few weeks, of course, to prolong the terror.
It's the cleaning that I hate. Yes, I know that when (and if) I
survive the ordeal, my teeth will be shinier than the sun at midday
in the heat of the desert. I know they'll be cleaner than they've
ever been (until I eat). I know that for the first time in six months
you'll be able to see the gap between each tooth (which, like the
gaps between my toes, is largely unchartered territory).
But it's still gruelling, isn't it. No matter how many advantages and
benefits there are to cleaning. It still ***grates*** as they scrape
away. And it goes on longer than an Energizer battery. Sometimes I
feel like I just want to hold my hand up and say "stop! Enough! You
know, I really don't mind plaque. Heck, it's just this side of being
a living being capable of independent thought, doesn't plaque have a
right to existence too? Nah, who cares if I lose a few teeth... I've
got too many anyway! If I cut down, the toothpaste will last so much
longer!"
The X-ray is usually a bit of a worry. The fact that they clear out
of the room while they do it... uhh... I dunno. Maybe it was my
imagination, but I could have sworn I had a kind of fluorescent tinge
after the last X-ray. And going home I'm still not sure what that dog
was barking at. And that old lady looked very scared.
So the X-rays come back, and presto, it's filling time. I don't mind
fillings too much. Just try and ignore the injection, and hope
they're putting it in the right place. And hope that they've
forgotten about seeing that scene in Mr Bean where he goes to the
dentist. As the numbness starts to set in, you can look forward to
making demented grins at the people on the way home for a laugh.
If the Novocaine does its work, you won't feel a thing during the
drilling. I must see if I can get a dentists' drill, I reckon it'd be
just the thing for making very small holes in things. They wedge your
mouth open, stuff in the actual filling (similar to what goes in a
duvet, I presume), and it's all done. Easy.
What is that stuff you rinse your mouth out in after treatment? Some
kind of colourful substance. Perhaps they need to switch it to
something like Coke, to encourage people to come again. "Only this
dentist give you a choice of Coke, Sprite or a chocolate milkshake to
rinse your mouth in afterwards! Diet varieties available!"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Part 24 Of More Than I Thought There'd Be
1164 AD
Henry II tries a little antidisestablishmentarianism, and tries to
bring the English clergy into the power of the royal courts. He has
a little tiff with Thomas a Becket, his chancellor and Archbishop
of Canterbury, who flees to France.
1170
Becket returns, but the quarrel breaks out afresh, and he is
murdered in Canterbury Cathedral. Henry claims he is deeply
shocked, that it was probably killer rats that got him, and that he
wasn't smirking at the funeral, honest, he was trying to fight back
tears.
1174
Saladin is proclaimed caliph; and launches a holy war of all
Muslims against Christians. Why? Something to do, I suppose.
1187
Saladin recaptures Jerusalem. The Jerusalem tourist vendors once
again are delighted, having invested in "Welcome, invaders of
Jerusalem" banners, which are strung across the city.
1189
Spurred on by the brilliant success of the previous Crusades (yeah,
right...), Philip Augustus of France and Richard I decide to start
up a Third Crusade. It fails to retake Jerusalem, and instead the
Third Crusade Steering Committee Quorum, decides that The Siege of
Acre would be a good idea.
1191
Crusaders capture Acre. What, one acre? That's not very much.
1192
Richard concludes armistice with Saladin.
Ummm.. by this they mean that the representatives of thousands of
holy warriors, who truly believe that God is on their side... who
would willingly destroy the unbelievers... these two great beliefs
who have vowed that theirs is the one true faith... called a truce?
"Sorry Saladin mate, just a little misunderstanding"? "All right
Richie dude, why don't youse and us go on down the pub"? "Okay
lads, no more fighting now, we've agreed to disagree"??!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toxic Custard back-issues continue
to be available by FTP or WWW. Email
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Hello there. I'm sure you realise
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| that my opinions (and the above
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| drivel) are my own, and nobody
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| elses. You did? Oh, good.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Toxic Custard - my gift to you"
====== ===== || || ===== TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES
|| || || || || ||== Number 228, 5th December 1994
|| ===== ====== || written by Daniel Bowen
Well, once again, Christmas is coming up. And once again you need to
review your strategy for buying presents. After much research at the
North Pole University, Faculty of Christmas Studies, we have come up
with this authoritative list. Simply find the entry that most fits
the person you're trying to give to, and read across to find what you
should give. Please note that Toxic Custard will not be held liable
for any injury or death, insult or cutting-off from inheritance that
may occur as a result of taking this chart seriously.
+-----------+-------------+--------+-------------------------------+
|Relatives/ | Hate/Like/ | Child/ | So, this person |
|friends? | Really like | Adult | gets.... |
+-----------+-------------+--------+-------------------------------+
| Friend | Hate | Adult | Z, or possibly M |
| Friend | Hate | Child | Lh |
| Friend | Ambivalent | Either | Z |
| Friend | Like | Adult | Z or Cg* |
| Friend | Like | Child | Z or Gg |
| Friend | Really like | Either | C and/or Gg. Maybe even G* |
| Relative | Hate | Adult | Z, maybe Cc if one spare |
| Relative | Hate | Child | Lh |
| Relative | Ambivalent | Either | Cg and/or possibly Gg |
| Relative | Like | Adult | G or Gg, and C. Maybe P |
| Relative | Really like | Adult | P, G and C |
+-----------+-------------+--------+-------------------------------+
C = Card especially chosen for that person
Cg = Card (generic but nice) from bulk pack
Cc = Card (generic and extremely cheap from bulk pack in $2 Shop)
G = Gift especially chosen for that person
Gg = Gift (generic) eg tea-towel, packet of jellybabies etc. Can be
given instead of G, where you have no idea what will be liked
Lh = Letter of hate from "Santa Claus"
M = Mailbomb. But don't put that on the Customs declaration
P = Phone-call on Christmas day if you're not seeing them
Z = Zilch. Zippo. Nothing. Not a thing
* = Remember, friends or colleagues you give gifts and cards to must
be on "card swapping" or "gift swapping" terms with you.
If you're taking careful note, you'd have noticed that relatives seem
to do quite well in this game. In fact, they virtually have to have
made accusations about sexual liaisons with barnyard animals to be
refused at least a card.
When buying gifts, remember to take into account the careful balances
of how much you want to spend, postage (where applicable), and the
old "is it about the same value as I got from them last year"
algorithms can be rather tricky. If you can't be bothered wrapping up
the present yourself, some shops will do it for you. Be careful
though: One shop where I asked about it turned out not to have
gift-wrapping, but GIT-wrapping. Very embarrassing.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Part 25 Quite A Large Number, Actually
1202 AD
Fourth Crusade; collect the set. Constantinople captured, but
released on bail pending a court appearance.
1206
Mogul empire founded in India. Well, why not?
1215
King John is forced at Runnymede to accept Magna Carta, which lays
it down that no freeman may be imprisoned or punished except by the
law of the land. John was actually planning instead to sign Magna
Psychopath, which gave the King's guard total power to rob,
pillage, plunder, and chop people into little bits whenever they
felt like it.
1218-21
The Fifth Crusade captures Damietta, in Egypt, but loses it again.
Very careless. They should have tried the lost property office.
1228-29
Sixth Crusade recovers Jerusalem by negotiation. So, there were
some things they could do in the 13th century that can't be done
now, eh? And blimey, these Crusade things certainly came at regular
intervals. Actually, it's a little known fact that between the
tenth and thirteenth centuries, there were more Crusades than
number 251 buses.
1250
Another Crusade is proposed, but in the 31 years since the previous
one, no-one can remember what number they're up to. Despite
suggestions to call it the Seventh Or Eighth Crusade, or even the
Next Crusade, it's called off.
1264
Henry III, whose misrule has caused the barons to revolt, is taken
prisoner at Lewes by Simon de Montfort. Henry III is not too
pleased about this, which is quite understandable in the
circumstances.
1265
De Montfort summons first Parliament in which towns are
represented; but is defeated and killed at Evesham. But of a bummer
that. Well, at least for de Montfort.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
BAD SNIPPETS
Reknowned 60s band Traffic have reformed, releasing a new self-titled
album. "Traffic" includes such thought provoking hits as "Keep left
unless overtaking", "Large vehicles advised to seek alternative
routes", "The South-Eastern's A Bitch This Morning", "Don't Turn
Right At Camberwell Junction (Unless You're A Tram)", and a
cover-version of "Stop!"
I wonder if pictures have thoughts. I wonder if they worry about
corruption in the police. I wonder if they silently protest that
they've been framed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did YOU know that Toxic CUSTARD back-
issues are STILL available by FTP or WWW?
Email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Hey! Hey you! I hope you
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| don't think this file contains
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| anything other than MY personal
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| thoughts and opinions?!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Possessed Toxic Custard"
| ,--- TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES #229
--+-- .--- . . |__ December 12th, 1994.
| | | | | | Written by Daniel Bowen.
`-- `--- `--'--' '
TOXIC CUSTARD CHRISTMAS ETIQUETTE GUIDE - PART 2
Well, here we go in part 2 of our hastily put together Christmas
Etiquette Guide. Once again this information is provided by the
experts from North Pole University, Faculty of Christmas Studies.
Our experts have come up with the Guide To Convincing The Kids That
Santa Exists. It's a simple guide to answering all the probing
questions that kids usually ask when they think you've been telling
them a load of porkies.
Q. How come we never see Father Christmas/Santa Claus?
A. Santa is always secretive and very quiet because he doesn't want
to wake you when he's crawling down the chimney. He has signed an
exclusivity deal, and restricts his public appearances strictly to
shopping centres and staff barbecues.
Q. We haven't got a chimney at our house. How will Santa get in?
A. His sleigh is equipped with a very high-tech teleportation system,
with built-in Christmas Tree Recognition and Good Child Who Eats
His/Her Vegetables detection. It can teleport him into houses that
don't have chimneys.
Q. Doesn't Santa get very hot in that suit when he gets to Australia?
A. The suit is air-conditioned.
Q. How can Santa possibly deliver toys to everyone on the planet in
one night?
A. Well, by using turbo-charged reindeer and making good use of
timezones, he *just* manages it, but he's very tired by the time he
gets home to the North Pole. The elves always give him a nice massage
when he gets back.
Q. Won't our burglar alarm go off when a big fat man squeezes his way
down our chimney into our house?
A. Santa has a special burglar alarm neutraliser, to avoid getting
himself arrested and shot by the police.
Q. Wait a minute, this all seems far too unlikely to me. A big fat
man in a red furry costume, who flies around on a sleigh pulled by a
bunch of reindeer, delivering toys to everyone... I don't believe it!
A. Oh sod it, welcome to reality, kid.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Part 26 of Quite A Large Number, Actually
1273 AD
Rudolf of Hapsburg, founder of the dynasty that is to reign in
Austria until 1918, is elected Holy Roman Emperor. After that he
sort of vanishes into obscurity, at least in this wildly estimated
and very summarised history.
1280
Kublai Khan emperor of China; encourages trade and teaches
religious tolerance. Just another example of the barbarianism rife
during the 13th century. Marco Polo visits, and is allowed to take
back the recipe for all the pasta dishes.
1282
Edward I completes conquest of Wales. The final battle involves
three thousand brave English soldiers mercilessly defeating several
hundred sheep. Edward celebrates with a pot roast.
1291
Acre, last Christian stronghold in Syria, is lost. Gee, I wonder
what perspective this particular history that I'm copying from is
written? "Last Christian stronghold lost". Depends on how you look
at it, doesn't it. I guess from the other side they'd be saying
something like "Those wimpy Christians give up their last
stronghold."
1295
Edward I summons Model Parliament, but then decides to summon a
real one instead when he realises the risk of the Model Parliament
getting squashed under someone's foot.
1296
Edward decides to attempt to annex Scotland. The Scots decide to
laugh themselves silly at this prospect.
1297
Sir William Wallace defeats Edward at Stirling. In fact, Edward's
forces are pounded into the ground, an act later to be remembered
during creation of the new English currency, Pounds Stirling.
1298
Edward defeats Wallace at Falkirk. After two years, the Scots
finally stop laughing.
1301
Edward makes his son Prince of Wales, and charges him to roam
throughout the kingdom, painting watercolours and criticising
architecture.
1304
Wallace captured and executed, but Robert Bruce raises another
revolt against Edward. He demands the Scotland retain it's freedom,
it's rolling blue hills, and that the English make their own damn
alcohol.
1306
Robert Bruce crowned king of Scotland. He proclaims that he is
king, that the English are vanquished from Scotland, and that he's
wearing nothing underneath his kilt, despite the bitterly cold
weather.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
THE DEFECTIVE HOUSEHOLD
I'm at war with my vacuum-cleaner
Because it really sucks
The head keeps coming off in mid-clean
And scattering all the muck
I'm fed up with my oven
The way it burns the load
It fries it to a crisp and then
It suddenly explodes
I've had it to here with the front door
Squeaking, giving us a fright
It sounds like a mad axeman will enter
And kill us all at dead of night
So I phoned up the repairman,
He came and he assessed
He prodded, poked, examined and stuff
And then said: "They're possessed"
So I said thanks, and called the Exorcist
She came round, rejecting the sciences
But when she saw what it was we had
She said "Sorry, don't do appliances"
I went to the library, asked for the occult
And I borrowed some books, determined to learn
What had to be done, ah yes get the stake
Fire ban or not, these things would burn
But burn they would not, the flames wouldn't catch
Think, be calm, don't panic, get a grip
The solution, Council hard rubbish collection
Friday morning, left on the nature strip
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toxic Custard was brought to you by the
letters F and U and the number pi. If
you'd like to get your hands on TCWF
back-issues, email tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
for details.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed without
profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--| Hey! Hey you! I hope you
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu---------| don't think this file contains
Work: dbowen@vcomtelc.telecom.com.au| anything other than MY personal
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu-----------| thoughts and opinions?! Good.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Departing Toxic Custard"
===\\==== //=== \\ // //=== TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES
\\ // \\ // // NUMBER 230
\\ \\ \\ // // //==== 19th December 1994
\\ \\=== \\/\// // Every week, a new bad graphic!
LEAVING
Yep, I've changed jobs. My last day at Telecom was on Friday. And of
course it was full of all the sort of stuff that happens at a job on
the last day. The last supper (well, okay, the last lunch) where
everyone turns up to stuff their faces. (Except the Melways-
disadvantaged, who somehow managed to misread perfectly clear
directions and head for the entirely *wrong* end of Bourke Street).
And let's not forget the big card. And the way I kept accidentally
stumbling upon people trying to secretively sign it. Guys, if you're
reading, don't worry -- after two years of watching other people
leaving, I know the office routine pretty well now. But none of the
comments in the card said "Good Riddance." Well, only one, and I
don't think he meant it. And I'm quite sure that he was joking about
dancing on my grave. Next week.
Nothing is going to make leaving after two years easy. Not the
excitement of a new job, not the anticipation of what kind of tie
I'll be given as a going away present. And certainly not the
laborious task of clearing out all my email onto disk. And as for the
amount of crap that had accumulated on my desk... But I did it. And I
showed I meant it. I showed I was leaving. And they all knew it.
Everyone knew I was really leaving when I made that final gesture of
departure. The one that means, more than anything, that you're
leaving, and not coming back: Packing the Far Side desk calendar.
And so, tomorrow (I'm writing this on Sunday), I trot off to my new
job. A new commute to master, new role to get into, and new people to
meet. New phone numbers to remember. New building security to try and
circumvent. New Coke machines to plunder. New LAN people to
frustrate.
But one thing irritates me. All this weekend, I haven't had a chance
to genuinely answer someone who asks about what I do for a living. To
say "well, I'm between jobs at the moment..."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The fly. Useful though it is, it can be very embarrassing when
forgotten. Just why is it that selective amnesia can so often cause
one to forget to do up one's fly? This is a question that has vexed
scientists ever since it was invented. There's meant to be a routine
that we all do as we walk out the door. You know the one. The mental
checklist: "Keys?... wallet?... handkerchief?... watch?..." and of
course the one that every few of weeks falls off the mental check-
list: "fly done up?"
So I've come up with an alternative strategy. If the fly beats the
Primary Zipper Status Check, a secondary check is carried out in a
quiet street on the way to the station. God forbid if anyone
regularly looks out of their window at about that time of morning.
Every day they'd see a reasonably neatly dressed young man on his way
to work, who appears to have an unhealthy obsession with the upper
section of his trousers...
But any of that is better than last week's effort, when I was beaten
by the Secondary Zipper Status Check, and got all the way into work,
and sat through a Christmas breakfast and a meeting before I noticed
the rogue zip at half-mast.
Things could be worse. About a week ago, I was walking through one of
the city's busiest streets, Elizabeth Street... and there, in a
parked car, was a man doing one of the most elaborate nose-pickings I
have ever laid eyes on. This wasn't just the casual "pick, yep,
nothing there, just checking there was nothing hanging out..." No.
This was a fully-fledged seek-out and destroy mission, obviously done
in the hope that absolutely anything in there would be scooped out.
The sort of probing that picks up individual snot molecules. For
anyone else contemplating it: Don't. Don't pick your nose in the car.
Why? Because the windows are SEE-THROUGH, that's why. (That's why
they're windows, in fact...)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TOXIC HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Part 27 of Heaps
1309 AD
Papacy falls into French control. The residence of the Popes is
moved to Avignon in an effort to escape the debt-collectors who are
trying to collect 700 years of rent.
1314
Edward II defeated at Bannockburn by Robert Bruce. Edward wisely
decides that he didn't *really* want Bannockburn and the rest of
Scotland anyway. It had nothing to do with the defeat of his army,
of course. It just that, well, Scotland is a pretty dark and cold
place, and perhaps better left to the Scots...
1328
Robert Bruce recognised by England as king of Scotland. Not a bad
response, fourteen years after being defeated by him.
1337
Outbreak of 'Hundred Years' War' between England and France. It is
caused by a conflict of commercial interests, and Edward III's
claim to the French throne. Oh sure. The King of England decides
"sod the French monarchy, I reckon I should be King of France!" No
wonder he was known as Edward The Arrogant Bastard.
1340-7
Various English defeats over the French at Sluys, Crecy and Calais.
Edward crows to all about how great he is, and continues to do so
until he sees the Black Death coming over the horizon, whereupon he
cowers and hides somewhere for a little while.
1348-9
Black Death, the bubonic plague, reaches England, killing nearly
one half of the population, and causing acute shortage of labour
and social unrest. Hmm. Bit of a bummer, really.
1356
Edward, the Black Prince defeats the French at Poitiers. He says
later he was stirred into battle by what they said about his pet
terrapin.
1369
French renew the war; they reconquer province after province. The
English try to retreat, and wish they had a high-speed train that
would carry them back across the Channel. Of course, the full name
of the Channel is the English Channel, except in French-speaking
countries where it's known as the French Chanel.
1372
The English fleet is destroyed at Pearl Harbour. England loses all
her French possessions except Bordeaux, Calais, a large box of
croissants and half a dozen snails.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toxic Custard's holiday timetable is roughly estimated to be as
follows-:
TCWF 230a - 24/12/94 - The best of Part 1
TCWF 231 - 31/12/94 - A farewell to '94
TCWF 231a - 9/1/95 - The best of Part 2
TCWF 232 - 16/1/95 - (back to "normal")
In the meantime, you can catch up with all the Toxic Custard
back-issues on ftp, at:
ftp.funet.fi [128.214.6.100] in /pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard
and on World Wide Web at
http://www.forthnet.gr/humour/ToxicCustard.html
Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and I hope no-one
gives you any beige socks, stripy tank-tops or small wooden
fertility ornaments. (Unless you like that kind of stuff, of
course.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (c) 1994 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed
without profit provided no modifications are made.
--
Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia-| Yes, I've changed jobs. But that
Work: New, I don't know it yet-----| has no relevance on what goes
Play: dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu--------| into Toxic Custard, which as you
TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu----------| know, is all my own opinions.
PS. According to the ultrasound, it's a boy! At least, that would
explain the huge cylinder-shaped object that blotted out the screen...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TCWF 230a, "Toxic Custard Compilation Number 1", was sent on 24/12/94
to subscribers only, and included New Vax Command (from TCWF 12), New
Electives (18), and Romeo & Juliet (19).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the Toxic Custard Workshop Files by Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia
Copyright (c) 1994, 1995 Daniel Bowen. May be freely distributed
without profit provided this notice remains intact.
For subscription and back-issue information, contact tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
