What this blog isn't

It's not a Leeds-based exploration of the joys and challenges of shaping the mortar between house-bricks so that the rain runs off without undue damage.
Nor is it about looking at, achieving, or maintaining erections of the male variety. That's what the rest of the internet is for.
It's also not about drawing peoples' attention to the beauty of the Aurora Borealis by indicating it with an extended forefinger
It probably isn't SFW[Safe For Work] either (especially if you work in a church) thanks to the liberal sprinkling of profanities, heresies and blasphemies.

Friday, September 5, 2008

The death knell of blackberry picking

Apparently Enid Blyton does not rule all England any more. No more middle-class interfering kids ruining your smuggling operation. No more joyful picnics with nary a drop of white cider and no knife fights to mar the occasion. We have stopped using the dying days of summer to remind our kids that they've got to trudge back to school soon by dragging them out into the middle of fucking nowhere and picking blackberries.

Ah, the blackberry. Nature's Mars Bar. Eat about a hundred of these and you too will be dragging employees of McDonald's over the counter in a fructose-powered frenzy.  Pack about a hundred of them into your loinfruit's smaller frames and that's a recipe for projectile vomiting, cage-fighting across the back seat and fractured sentences full of expletives spat out at passing police cars by your likkle ones.

We don't take our kids out blackberry picking for another reason too. How on earth do we explain England's countryside full of corpses?

-Dad, I just tripped over a mound shaped like a man.

-It's okay son, that'll just be another unsuccessful small-time dealer who thought he could spend the money his supplier kept demanding with menaces.

-That's alright then...aaaaaaaaargh! What?

This was why dad and son fishing trips have fallen by the wayside too.

-Catch a fish there son?

-Nah, just another limb wrenched from the submerged corpse of a petty criminal who got too big for his boots...aaaaaargh!

-Calm down, son. Just chuck that soggy white-fleshed lump onto the pile over there. We'll tell everyone it's Hoki and pass it off as just as good as cod.


We must continue to take our children fishing AND blackberrying, even in the face of a green and pleasant land that has disturbing surprises just beneath the surface. How on earth else will we wind up with a Tupperware tub half full of a disturbing black liquid that's still in the crisper drawer of the fridge six weeks from now?


[Still taking it from foreign sailors on the orders of: Humor-blogs.com ]


Pam said...

Where there are blackberries, there are snakes. Please make sure Withers remembers his wellies.

Anonymous said...

The snake/blackberry issue is one of vast importance, of course, but, on the whole, England is not exactly teeming with them.
Snakes, that is.
On the other hand we are knee deep in Blackberries, and wellies are singularly unhelpful when some tosser produces his from a pocket and asks you to hold on for a moment whilst he checks his email.
Admittedly the Large Hadron Collider may take care of all our problems, but until then perhaps you could give some thought to the question of whether we really should be bringing our children up to go looking for anti-social electronic devices...

Pam said...

Now, see? I was going to go the overpriced personal electonics route, but then I thought, "Nah, too cheap."

I didn't know St. Patrick made it there, or maybe they just get tired of the constant mandatory flood evacuations?

magnetite said...

Thanks Pam and anonymous (and welcome both). One of the few things I love about Blighty is how very safe it all is. Our aristocracy hunted and ate most of the dangerous fauna centuries ago; it's too fucking cold for giant spiders and cock-a-roaches; our earthquakes are frankly embarrassingly shit; and our only poisonous snake is a laughable non-entity in the ophidian top of the pops. It's only the constant fucking floods that keep us on our toes.

Please be aware that I am a deeply lazy human being, and posts may come few and far between. Also they may be reworked and expanded Anorak comments too. See above admission of being a lazy fuck for evidence.

Withers sends his love, but is wary that this will all end in tears and he'll have to cradle me in his bony arms for a month, just like he had to when I discovered that mail-order brides aren't assembled from kits of parts at home.

Pam said...

Oh, poor Lars!

David said...

>>>your loinfruit's smaller frames


Love the term. laughing mucho.


magnetite said...

Ta, David - and welcome. It is yours (and everyone's) in perpetuity to use and enjoy. I probably nicked from someone else though.

Also Pam, if you return, Lars? Think of me as an idiot savant that never found anything to be good at. Some things may need to be painstakingly explained to me. (smiling face on it's side made from punctuation marks)

W. F. Flub said...

Not a fan of "Lars and the Real Girl" then? It's a reference to your DIY mail-order bride comment.

K.Y. Koq said...

Schizophrenia notwithstanding, there was no way I was going to pass up this one!

J Bollocks said...

Not really on topic, but I had to go through the Warning page (ie Adult stuff etc etc).

It's just that I had to press a "I understand and want to continue" button. Whereas in actuality, I felt more like "I understand and aren't really sure if I really want to continue, who knows what sort of weird world views are waiting for unsuspecting neophytes?"

But then it was OK cause it was this site!

magnetite said...

Thankee kindly, j nbollocks. Welcome to my site. Kick the cat off a chair, put your feet up and relax. Just ignore the faint smell of piss, you get used to it after a while anyway.

I had to put up the 'continue or go' button just in case someone of tender sensibilities accidentally wandered on to the site. I swear like a coprolalic hoodie with ADHD most of the time, and it can scar a gentle mind.

I bet you thought before you clicked that it was going to be something like amputee dwarf/snail porn. Well, the site is actually packed full to the brim with amputee dwarf/snail porn, but it's all reduced in size to 1x1 pixel images which are faded to white; and therefore completely invisible. It's just my small contribution to the fall of civilisation. You are welcome, humanity. You are welcome.

My biggest fear is that some innocent fundamentalist Christian with a sheltered upbringing will see my deranged spoutings here and be forever corrupted. I'm not too concerned about the corruption bit, I just know that they'll utterly fuck it up and do it all wrong. Then blame me. Via con Dios!

magnetite said...

Didn't mean to misspell your name there, j. Curse these fucking milk-bottle-sized fingers of mine. They prevented my otherwise stellar career as a pickpocket from going anywhere. And now I have to talk claptrap. For free. Ah, well...we all have our burdens.

(sideways smiley face with HUGE fucking fingers made from punctuation marks...and huge fingers)