Archive for October 2015

Bigjohn 3

October 31, 2015

The Daily Asteroid columnist, Bigjohn, has kindly syndicated more of his articles for publication. Thanks Bigjohn, take it away.

Save the Calves

Vellum is so last century (or earlier) according to a committee of MPs. Vellum, which is calfskin, has formally recorded all acts of parliament since the year dot.* This long lasting, durable, weather proof, water proof, fool proof, animal skin will be usurped by paper and purely as a cost cutting exercise. Paper, as we all know, is not very resilient. Drop your book in a puddle and you won’t be singing in the rain.

In modern times all sorts of e-thingys (e-mail, for one) have knocked the stuffing out of paper. Now, thanks to the committee, paper can land a blow on the little lambs.The bullied becomes a bully.

Bigjohn thinks that if the MPs want to preserve the calfskins why don’t they use their own? It’s certainly thick enough. They wouldn’t miss a pound or two of skin. More than plenty to write up all the new laws. The query is where to take the skin from. Obviously, the neck is 100% brass but let’s stick to tradition. Use their calves. Let’s flay the MPs. Flay them. Flay them good.

Bigjohn has been watching a lot of Hannibal the Cannibal films recently. He wants to bring art to real life.

*Bigjohn hopes that all readers noticed that after writing the word dot he used a dot (full stop). Dot Dot in morse means I. Aye.


(Tech) Celebrity Watch

TC, Apple Inc. CEO

It’s not everyday that you run into Tim Cook but Bigjohn did the other day. Tim was in his Ferrari, idling at a red light when Bigjohn shunted the CEO of Apple Inc. As is the norm in accidents of this nature we exchanged insurance and suchlike details. Tim, the innocent party in this ordeal, was very friendly, as you probably would be if you were a billionaire. Bigjohn thought it was time to speak his mind.

“Apple is a not very original word. Original sin, maybe, what with the Garden of Eden and all that but not as a company name. Too kindergarten. Annie Apple, for example.”

Nice guy Tim, the friendly billionaire CEO blew a gasket. “Apple is the world’s largest technology company by assets. Without us there would be no i-pad, no i-phone, no i-pod, no i anything. No dot dot.”

“That may be true,” responded Bigjohn, ” But you’ve got to admit banana is a better word. And a better fruit if your taste buds got a vote on it. Banana would have been a better company name. Think about it. Your new phone could be called the Banana Manama 6.”

Tim jumped back in his Ferrari and vroomed, vroomed away. Bigjohn was in King Louie mood and sang “I wanna be like you-oo-oo.”


Happy Halloween everyone

No self-respecting gothic horror blog could let Halloween pass without a scary story. Read on at your peril.

Bigjohn was relaxing in the bath when it appeared before his eyes, dangling from a string- A giant talking spider. The massive arachnid uttered in an insectoid voice. “I’m the daddy of all spiders.”

Good for you, piped the soaping Bigjohn. He rolled up his Daily Asteroid until it resembled a baseball bat. He let fly at the spider. His soaking rag missed. But the downdraft, backdraft, oh heaven knows what, some kind of draft made the spider swing from side to side on his web string. Back and forth. Back and forth. Bigjohn was hypnotised. He was at the mercy of the daddy of all spiders.



3.5: The faulty electric window

October 18, 2015

“Gymnastics. Not for me. I hate sports that are subjective. Artistic impression, my left foot. Who do they think they are- Monet Renoir?”

“You’re in a foul mood today, Ralph. Whoa. look out for that fox.” said Jeff.

Ralph swerved round the animal and continued driving, still in a rant. “I hated gym at school. Black sandshoes and stupid exercise routines. Waste of time. Give us a game of footy any day.”

“Talking of gym class. What did you think was the harder to do? A forward roll or a backward roll?” asked Jeff.

“Good one. They were both tricky, weren’t they?” Ralph hoisted the car round the bend on two tyres. He was about to give his answer but his thoughts were drowned out by the sounds of a siren. A police car was on his tail.

“Better pull in, Ralph. It could be that dodgy tyre of yours that has got their attention.”

“It’s only a bit bald, Jeff, I might get off with a warning.” He pulled the car into the side. The police motor parked behind him. The blue lights flashing. A policeman approached Ralph’s car. He indicated to Ralph to roll down the window. Ralph pressed the button but nothing happened.

“Oh no, Jeff. The electric window is not working.”

“Good job we’re not going to a drive-thru fast food seller.” said Jeff. “It’d be hard to put an order in. You’d need to shout through the glass. FOUR BURGERS AND FRI-”

“-Always thinking about your belly. Help me out here. What will I do?” The cop was tapping on the window. The old bill didn’t look happy.

“Just open the door.Tell him the window is faulty. Play the truth card.” said Jeff.

“Truth card?”

“Just open the door.”

Ralph did as he was told and caught the policeman off guard. The cop was hit by an unexpected force and somersaulted backwards. Artistically impressed,Judges would have called it a perfect backward roll. Ralph, horrified, got out of the car.

“Don’t move.” the policeman’s partner, a policewoman, entered the scene, “Put your hands up.”

“You what? I don’t have a gun.” uttered Ralph.

The policewoman shouted into her walkie-talkie. “Officer down, Officer down. Request back up immediately.”

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It was an accident.”

The policewoman pulled out handcuffs and moved towards Ralph. He took a few steps back and stumbled over the policeman’s supine legs. Don’t resist arrest, shouted the cop and she lunged at Ralph. Both of them fell over the outstretched legs and performed a beautiful forward roll duet. It was so synchronised that Jeff felt like applauding. A further development was that in the melee the handcuffs hit one of Ralph’s tyres and loosened the wheel trim from its prison.

The trim rolled down the road. Round and round and round it went. Escaping into the night.