Spondulegrod 181 + j

Time passed, meandering as it does, like the attention span of a particularly dim puppy. Eventually enough time would pass that from the depths of the void, there would become spontaneously formed, the complete and fully formed god Bumwax and the associated antigod, Waxbum.

And lo, it so happened that Bumwax’s gaze fell upon the denizens of The Cleanroom’s underbelly and was displeased with that which beheld him. Waxbum on the other hand didn’t really care for he had discovered some union approved pornographic material in the warehouse and was allowing himself to become quite distracted by it.

Bumwax wasn’t having any of it and decided that in accordance with the Second Prime Directive*, he should meddle in the affairs of The Cast.

“BEHOLD! FOR I AM BUMWAX! ALL TREMBLE BEFORE MY MIGHTY MIGHT AND JUDGEMENTAL CRITIQUE!”

Piglung, was somewhat surprised by this and stopped scratching his balls for a moment.

“YOU! THE ONE THEY CALL LOKI, STEP FORTH AND EXPLAIN THE LACK OF PROGRESS IN THIS ENDEAVOUR…”

Loki (who was in no way associated with Marvel comics or any of their intellectual properties and / or associated franchises or legal entities) sighed, picked himself up and trudged over to see what all the fuss was about. He looked up at Bumwax who had decided to to appear in the guise of what looked to be a churning bucket of mice with far too many dimensions and rolled his eyes sullenly.

“I’LL HAVE NONE OF YOUR ATTITUDE!” Boomed Bumwax who would probably be wagging a finger or tapping his foot in displeasure if he didn’t have the whole trans-dimensional rodent look going on at the time.

“WHAT WAS ALL THIS ABOUT A COKE SPOON BEAST? WERE YOU EVER GOING TO FINISH THAT PLOT POINT? I MEAN, IT’S BEEN NEARLY TEN YEARS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”

The Coke Spoon Beast shrugged, “Well, I can’t help thinking that the central idea behind myself just wasn’t very good. I mean, it’s a pretty damn overt drug reference. What was going to happen next? Was I going to capture them and take them to my Studio 54 themed lair or make them fight an army of Robin Williams clones or a robotic Carrie Fisher? I mean, it’s not very original now, is it?”

Loki tried to look indignant but he was secretly annoyed that none of these ideas had occurred to him.

“AND YOU! CYBORG DISHWASHER, WAS THAT GOING ANYWHERE?”

The Cyborg Dishwasher picked itself up and sauntered forth on its four articulated legs.

“I cannot claim much in terms of personal ambition for I am but a humble dishwasher and as such my needs and desires must comply with the three Laws of Dishwashing but I believe that there was talk of continuing my biography of the time spent working for The Chip Shop Mafia before being teamed up with Vince the Comedy Capacitor for my own spin off series of adventures.”

“In fairness,” interrupted Loki, “Vince the Comedy Capacitor was a terrible idea. I mean, he was a large capacitor with clinical depression and a flyback transformer which he kept bound and gagged under his kilt.”

“YES, VERY WELL. I AGREE THAT THIS DOES INDEED SOUND LIKE A PARTICULARLY LOATHSOME CONCEPT BUT I REALLY FEEL LIKE WE NEED TO ADDRESS THE GENERAL LACK OF CONSISTENCY IN THE WHOLE ENDEAVOUR. TAKE FOR EXAMPLE THIS KERNER.. OR WAS IT ‘KERDER’ THING FROM THE START OF THE STORY, IS THAT STILL AROUND OR IS IT JUST SOME SORT OF VAGUE THREAT LIKE PEAK OIL OR INTERNATIONAL COMMUNISM.”

Loki thought about it for a second, “I think it was indeed some sort of vaguely Lovecraftian threat, sir, but I think I kinda forgot about it.”

“SHOCKING! IT’S ALMOST AS IF YOU’RE MAKING THIS UP AS YOU GO.”

“Well, that’s rambling streams of consciousness for you.” Admitted Loki.

“WELL, I’VE HEARD ABOUT ALL I CAN STAND. THIS IS EXTREMELY SHODDY BY ANY STANDARD, I MIGHT GO AS FAR AS TO DESCRIBE IT AS ‘SHAMBOLIC.’ I’D PUNISH YOU ALL IN SEVERE AND HORRIBLE WAYS BUT I SEE THAT WAXBUM HAS BECOME BORED WITH THAT UNIONISED EROTICA AND I’M PRETTY SURE THE PAIR OF US ARE ABOUT TO ANNIHILATE EACH OTHER. OH WELL, EASY COME, EASY GO AND ALL THAT. STILL, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY CONTINUE ON WITH THAT ‘MONSOON’ STORY ARC THAT’S BEEN SITTING ON YOUR HARD DRIVE FOR THE LAST DECADE”

With that the god and antigod disappeared, never to be seen nor heard from again. Try not to feel bad about it, they both lead short but fulfilled lives. Bumwax was able to boss some badly conceived characters around, while Waxbum spent his time checking out some pictures of cracking jugs which were well within union approved cup sizes.

Odin the cat (formerly) beside the popadom shed shook his head and before going back to licking his genitals, said to Loki, “Bloody virtual gods. I really don’t see the point in having them around. Here, are you going to bother proofreading this before posting?”

“Fuck no.” he replied.

*Most mortals are unaware of the rules that all gods and minor deities must follow. The Second Prime Directive is similar to that of Star Trek fame which states that the United Federation of Planets should only meddle in the affairs of less developed civilisations when it makes for a good episode (preferably with lots of chewed scenery and Patrick Stewart getting very serious and Shakespearean). Gods on the other hand are pretty much mandated, on account of their Prime Directive to meddle in the lives of lesser beings as much as possible with little or no thought for the consequences. Plagues, hordes of locusts, toying with sailors in a way that really isn’t fair because it’s a hard enough life to begin with, volcanic eruptions, floods, sexually assaulting girls in the guise of a swan; these are all the sworn duty of all gods, even when they would rather be at home, drinking a nice cup of Bovril™ (favoured drink of spiteful bastards everywhere) and thumbing through the latest issue of Trident (the magazine for the modern deity on the go.)

ipv4

The following should be sung to the tune of “Cars” by Gary Numan

ipv4,
it’s forever a bore,
when it sits on the floor,
routing packets no more,
i. p. v. 4.

I’d write a further three verses but I’m bored with the idea now.

Spuntle Gro 180 (Use Microsoft Internet Explorer. It’s shit!)

Ill conceived and poorly executed, it’s,

SPINDLEGRIN (Choca-block)

A tragedy in 2387 installments.
Episode 180. Why does George Bush keep falling over?

In the last episode of The Amazing Adventures of The
Vermillion Shits our heroes had concluded that the
plot had been well and truly lost. And as sure as
monkeys like to fuck, it wasn’t down the back of the
couch, under the stairs, nor was it camouflaged to
look like a tree neither. It was then pointed out (we
have identified the afore mentioned pointer, rest
assured he will be dealt with in due course) that the
plot was a bad idea in the first place. Everybody was
fine with this and proceeded to invent a new form of
arts and crafts involving the bending of paperclips.

Then suddenly by accident Dakron (damn him) folded
some paperclips into the Black Sign Of Summoning He
Whose Name Must Never Be Spoken Aloud Lest All The
Soap In The World Grow Pubic Hair.

On this dark day, Michael Foot was on duty and was
thus summoned and appeared in a puff of smoke and
carbon monoxide.

“Oh glorious Michael Foot,” toadied Loki, “We beseech
ye to tell us what the fuck is up with Jeff Goldblum?”

Michael Foot replied in a booming yet desiccated
voice, desiccated like those weird powdered liver
tablets muscle builders take, except louder “… Well
he is such a method actor, that he actually did get
genetically spliced with a blue bottle for that Davey
Cronenberg movie.” He then vanished up his own arse,
but not before poking Piglung in the eye.

“Well that was informative,” said Dakron, “At least he
didn’t reveal what my first name is.”

“What is it?” asked the Genie,

“Tuscanini.” answered Dakron.

“Really?” asked the Genie

“Oh fuck” replied Dakron quietly.

Most bits ©Loki 2004. Crap bits and pedantry ©BO’C
2004
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com

If would like to stop receiving the Spindlegrin saga
mail me (not that’ll do you any good). Feel free to
pass the saga on as long as it is not altered in any
way. You are not allowed to sell the saga in any
shape or form. You have been warned. I will release
the Moderately Priced Lawyers. I would like to see
this saga passed to the ends of the earth, so feel
free. If you would like back issues, mail me.

Well, well, well,….Ye Olde Spindlegrinne 179 (made of cyclodextrins)

Passed to #null and mined by data moles…it’s,

SPINDLEGRIN (Random Bits)

A tragedy in 2387 installments.
Episode 179. Did Michael Jackson ever have any kids
with Liz Tailor?

“I’ve a Lego man in my soup,
I’m the Lego man in your soup,
I don’t want no men in my soup,
Boop ba doop boop ba doop boop ba doop.”

“Um, thanks for that.” said Loki before cramming the
mints down the crack of his arse.

“They don’t seem to like that, perhaps you should
stop.” insisted Dakron

“Of course they don’t like it, you ever hear of
cleanroom compliant toilet paper?”

It was at this point that Vomsquilax, the god of
awkward silences descended on the room for 35 seconds.
………………………………………………………………….

“Anyhoo, where were we?” asked a visibly drunk genie.

“We don’t know, we lost the plot.” answered Dakron

At this point Piglung, who had up until now been lying
in a pool of his own vomit, stood straight up, stuck a
finger in the air and said, “Aaaaah! But could our
problem be that we got a plot in the first place?”

He then flicked a rubber band at Loki before losing
consciousness and falling flat on his back.

Loki looked at the rubber band, it had the words,
“Post Action Report” written on it in very small
letters. The R’s were written backwards to make it
look Russian.

“He’s right damnit!” said Loki and they all went mad
bending paperclips into rude words.

Most bits ©Loki 2004. Crap bits and Grammar Nazi ©BO’C
2004
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com
If would like to stop receiving the Spindlegrin saga
mail me (not that’ll do you any good). Feel free to
pass the saga on as long as it is not altered in any
way. You are not allowed to sell the saga in any
shape or form. You have been warned. I will release
the Moderately Priced Lawyers. I would like to see
this saga passed to the ends of the earth, so feel
free. If you would like back issues, mail me.

its bak, sorry, we dont like to upset you, but we feel its necessary

While Spindlegrin has been in limbo, the cast have
been staving off boredom largely holding eating
contests. Eating contests involving those little
stick batteries you find in Sony products. (It’s been
a draw for 6 months. Barry is coughing up cadmium
ingots. Niall is pissing mercury)

People have often criticized Spindlegrin for having
little or no editorial process, but we would like to
take time out of our busy schedule of battery eating
to bring you a selection of concepts and characters
that never made it. (This is not to say that they will
not see future use them in a fit of desperation.)(In
short, expect to see them all in the next episode)

1/ The episode set in Rick Ashley’s colon.
2/ Vampire Spoons.
3/ Piglung is forced to disguise himself as The Flying
Pickets.
4/ John Peel
5/ Vince The Comedy Capacitor.
6/ Everyone becomes fat.
7/ Zombie shoes.
8/ The Genie travels back in time and feels menaced by
Frank Sinatra.
9/ God turns out to be Paul Gascoigne.
10/ Fish made entirely out of those little springs you
get in pens.

Loki
(C) Loki 2004

Spindlegrin TNG. I’m still, I’m still Jenny from the Slum.

Yes! It’s back (again), this is one that has been on
the boiler for a while and been through several
revisions, the saddest part is that it’s still crap.
This is not the ordinary Spindlegrin BTW.

Spindlegrin TNG
The Golden Dwarf (A happy tale of mass marketing and
rubbish)

Part000000010

Golden Dwarf is being kept prisoner by Jason Nomeansno
because Golden didn’t give Jason a single penny of the
millions he made singing a duet with Robbie Williams.
The dwarf is being kept in the basement along with a
bunch of other oddities.

One fine evening, Jason was choosing not to watch the
Discovery Channel. He had been not watching middle
aged men building a miniature working replica of an
old folks home (replete with fully functional air
compressors and hydrofoils) for over 4 hours.
Suddenly, a pang of fear oozed over his body, his
debts were mounting up. He felt an unexplainable and
overwhelming urge to consolidate all his existing
loans. Grabbing the remote control and mashing the
buttons at random he found himself not watching MTV
instead, at least on not MTV, the subliminal messages
of impending financial disaster were often supplanted
by the raw hatred of Eminem and His Bitch-Mama.
Eminem had life so gosh-darn-hard, just like Brittney,
he had to release a film all about his problems too.

Snapping out of the MTV daydream all of sudden, Jason
heard a fizzing noise emanating from the basement.
Pausing only to make a gin and tonic, he rushed
downstairs only to find his dwarf missing and a
fizzing mess on the floor. The dwarf had been eating
a lot of oranges lately and storing the juice in his
cheek pouches. When the time was ripe the dwarf had
squirted the juice out of his cheeks and this had
weakened the walls of the eggshell prison just enough
to allow him to break out.

Jason found an acidic note on the floor, it said “So
long sucka! I’m off to make my fortune without you.
Love, G.S.Dwarf”. Nearly in tears, Jason turned
around and gave chase, unfortunately on his way past
the TV he was mesmerised by an ad for cleaning fluids
featuring a lovable cockney rogue who seemed to make a
career out of duping his obviously moronic wife (if
she had any brains she’d have framed him for a murder
or something like that (it’s the done thing in the
east end, believe me)). Jason was whisked into
dreamland and fantasised various scenarios where he
lied to women about housework and tricked little
children into scrubbing bathtubs full of strawberry
milkshake.

Next time: The dwarf finds a job.

This is (C) Barry O’Connell 2001. It may be
distributed free, but not sold or passed off as
anybody else’s work. You had better believe it son or
my name’s not Captain Skank….Yarrr!
Spindlegrin (C) Niall Stevenson 1999,2000,2001,2002
If you want your name ON or OFF the list mail Barry
and make your instructions explicit.
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com

SpOndIlgrOn 178. Embrace the banality.

**Spindlegrin Industries!**
**?Striving for the Moral Low Ground?**

Stop No Disco being cancelled. Sign the petition at,
http://www.petitiononline.com/thumped/petition.html

And now, our feature presentation….

Found in a Brown Envelope, in a politicians briefcase,
with some revealing photos of a curious nature,
it?s…..
SPINDLEGRIN (Just Plain Filth)

A tragedy in 2387 installments.
Episode 178 ? Is there a point to the existence of
Justin Timberlake?

“The Life and Times of The Coke Spoon Beast” Part 2

?To our good fortune, we happened upon the wondrous
spectacle of the beast stalking its prey, (in this
case a magnificent and noble Test Engineer). The Test
Engineer is normally an elusive prey. Natural
selection has gifted the Engineer with heightened
senses, allowing it to detect and avoid detrimental
management decisions and the natural ability to
conceal itself from anything that might be perceived
as work. This particular Test Engineer, whom we named
“White Hood” on account of his garb, was one of the
more resourceful engineers, often using bits of old
equipment to fashion traps and tools. On one occasion
of note we had observed him using a large seized
stepper motor, a flyback transformer from an old scope
and some GPIB cable to make a coney trap which
electrocuted (and subsequently cooked) the rabbits
when they entered the huge electric field generated by
the trap. White Hood had on this instance let his
guard down, as he appeared to be engrossed in
performing a strange ritual involving a levitating
hair piece, a bottle of liquid and a small tube.?

?The Coke Spoon beast was quick to seize this
opportunity and pounced, attacking White Hood with its
famed power of clichéd hallucinations. At this point
we switched to our Psycho-Scope so as to better
observe the savage ballet.?

The Psycho-Scope is named after its inventor Pope
Ignatious Psycho IX. The first Psycho-Scopes were
used principally to verify the credibility of the
religious visions that were in vogue with catholic
girls in the 1920’s. The Swiss Guard later used the
psycho-scope in conjunction with a Hewlett-Packard
Halluc-O-Mat to assist in trapping fraudulent visions
of The Holy Mother in the Vatican High Energy
Ecumenical Tokamac (VHEET).

The Psycho-Scope rose to the height of its fame during
the 1960’s when it was used in films such as “Alice in
Acidland” and the critically acclaimed, Oscar winning
“Reefer Madness”. The Pycho-Scope enabled the
commitment to film of the horrifying visions
experienced by “Hep Cats” or “Hippies” whilst “hepped
up” on “goof-balls.”

It seems amazing to many now, but the Psycho-Scope
wasn’t outlawed until 1972 when suspicions were raised
after the entire cast and crew of the educational film
“Brian Schizoid and the Dopamine Level” developed
leukaemia.

Luckily, the Psycho-Scope was never banned in the
Eastern Block so it is still possible to get them
cheap from our mate Borislav down the market.

Most bits ©Loki 2003. Extra bits ©BO’C 2003
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com
If would like to stop receiving the Spindlegrin saga
mail me. Feel free to pass the saga on as long as it
is not altered in any way. You are not allowed to
sell the saga in any shape or form. You have been
warned. I will release the Moderately Priced Lawyers.
I would like to see this saga passed to the ends of
the earth, so feel free. If you would like back
issues, mail me.

Spindlewrong 177 (it’s not correct at all)

**New from Spindlegrin Industries!**
**The game that’s taking Japan by storm:**
**”MOLE OR CANCER?”**
**(A game for 4-8 people, melanomas not included)**

And now, our feature presentation….

From the recorded ramblings of an angry beggar comes……
SPNDLGRN (nbdy rds ths fr th vwls)

A tragedy in 2387 installments.
Episode 177 – even I don’t understand…..

“The Life and Times of The Coke Spoon Beast” Part 1

Narrated by a man with the shingles.

“We have been stalking the legendary Coke Spoon Beast
for the better part of three weeks now and the
distinctive snorting noise in the distance has alerted
us to our first real encounter of this magnificent
creature. It was at this point that our guides from
the Multiflex tribe, Johno and Macker refused to
proceed any further. We had grown close to these noble
savages during our time together, and so, as
recognition of our parting they presented me with the
totem of their village; an empty can of Dutch Gold
Larger. It was an honour that few outsiders have
received. The next morning without delay we continued
on the trail.

Three days later, whilst navigating a ridge shaped
like Billy Crystal’s colon, we did indeed for the
first time behold the full splendour of the Coke Spoon
Beast.”

The argument of the origins of the enigmatic Coke
Spoon Beast (Snortus Inthejaxus) is divided into two
bitterly opposed sides. The Creationists insist that
The Beast was created out of elemental chaos on one
fateful night when Iggy Pop made a bet with Keith Moon
that he couldn’t drink a whole can of (NEW!
Radioactive!) Agent Orange that he had just found
behind the fridge.

The Creationists support Tottenham Totspur.

The Darwinists however, insist that The Beast is
simply an as yet undocumented breed of frog or goat
that may, or may not, have been caught in a sputter
machine before escaping into the depths of the
Under-Room. They postulate that with no natural
predators and an inexhaustible source of prey in the
form of hapless test engineers and technicians, it was
able to grow to immense proportions.

The Darwinists are firm Sheffield Wednesday
supporters.

The Coke Spoon Beast is so named because of it’s
massive spoon shaped head and neck. The body is shaped
like a giant foot, with it’s “toes” replaced with
tough molar like ceramic protrudences upon which it
propels itself at speeds in excess of a complete
standstill.

Most bits ©Loki 2003. Extra bits ©BO’C 2003
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com
If would like to stop receiving the Spindlegrin saga
mail me. Feel free to pass the saga on as long as it
is not altered in any way. You are not allowed to
sell the saga in any shape or form. You have been
warned. I will release the Moderately Priced Lawyers.
I would like to see this saga passed to the ends of
the earth, so feel free. If you would like back
issues, mail me.

Spundlesnot TNG. Beyonce Knowles, change name to Lardfaced Skrag!

Yes! It’s back (again), this is one that has been on
the boiler for a while and been through several
revisions, the saddest part is that it’s still crap.
This is not the ordinary Spindlegrin BTW.

Spindlegrin TNG
The Golden Dwarf (A happy tale of mass marketing and
rubbish)

Part000000011

Golden Dwarf lay low for a few days before making his
way to the big city. “Wow!” he said “Big city, big
lights, big cars, big ho’s and big money! If I’m gonna
make it big, here’s where I get my big chance.” As he
tramped down the street his golden complexion caught
more and more attention from passers by. A band of
rascals frightened him and stole his ears. Eventually
he found the offices of the Peoples Institute of
Masculine Pursuits and applied for a job. Not having
a huge amount of investment capital it started off
simple. One girl, one dumpster and one mean dwarf who
was not afraid to take off his belt and “Show dat
bitch the meanin’ o’ “Daddy””. But soon the legend
spread and punters flocked from miles around to buy
tricks off “that shiny metal midget”. Soon he was the
best in the business, a roaring success. He was so
good at it he was even able to buy his own wide
brimmed hat instead of having to rent one, man that
rented hat stunk! And he hardly ever beat the girls.
He also got a part-time position as a judge on Fame
Acadamy and sung backing to Rod Stuart who was trying
the same thing Robbie Williams did last year. But our
dear Robbie has moved on and employed even more people
to think of ingenious ways of fitting the marketing
curve to his new album. Woo!

The end.

This is (C) Barry O’Connell 2001. It may be
distributed free, but not sold or passed off as
anybody else’s work. You had better believe it son or
my name’s not Captain Skank….Yarrr!
Spindlegrin (C) Niall Stevenson 1999,2000,2001,2002,
2003
If you want your name ON or OFF the list mail Barry
and make your instructions explicit.
barry@spindlegrin.com
loki@spindlegrin.com