Funny but not funny

Flood (not Colm)

People have been telling me that I’ve been quite funny lately. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve caught some sort of heightened Super Funny virus. Please don’t think I’m joking. I haven’t been able to sleep  as I keep laughing at the thoughts running around in my vacant head. It used to be a good thing. If something bad happened, I would use humour to turn it into a positive, laugh at it and it would all be good. That was then. Back then I had a choice. I could choose to use humour as a mechanism to sort all sorts of things out. These days, I don’t have a choice. You could tell me something really serious and I will immediately have to battle the funny thoughts running around my head. Here’s one example:

In the west of Ireland, there have been some disastrous floods lately, which have caused great distress to families and people have been forced to evacuate their homes. Over the weekend, due to work, I had reason to familiarise myself with these events. Immediately, the thoughts in my head started telling me that they know a guy called Colm Flood who is surrounded by a family of Floods and is used to being in the company of Floods. This of course didn’t help anyone but do you think I could get the funny thoughts out of my head to let the serious thoughts in? If you’re in any doubt, the answer is No.

This is just one of many examples I could mention. I’ve been trying to scare the bejaysus out of the funny thoughts and exercise the demons by listening to carefully selected music. Yesterday I played Leonard Cohen’s ‘A singer must die’ which is a song that would depress a hyena. Rather that depress the funny thoughts, the song made them dance ecstatically as if they never had to work another day in their life. Not only that but they began to change the lyrics and title of the song. By the end of the track, they had renamed the song to ‘You better get used to us Bill Y ‘cause we’re here for good’. It’s not easy to deal with such stubborn thoughts. I think I’m just going to have to put up with them for now but I’m a resourceful animal and I will have the last laugh.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It’s good to mock accepts no responsibility for any floods, living or dead who appeared in the above post. For what it’s worth, Colm is real. I know it looks like a made up name but it isn’t. Seriously, it isn’t. Don’t think I’m kidding ‘cause I’m not. What do you mean you don’t believe me? Do you think all names are sensible? If so, you should talk to my friend Katrina Hurricane. Bill Y

I'm no Scientist but I have an old abacus out the back

Some time ago, I posted a list of the people I admire. It wasn’t a very long list and consisted of:

1) Myself

It took me four hours to come up with that list. Today I’ve been working on a different list. Today I’m working on a list of people who aren’t me. So far I have:

1) Everybody (except me)

Because I don’t know everybody, it’s going to be pretty hard to list the total number of living humans on earth at a given time. The last time I counted, there were 6,899,182,128 brothers & sisters of the planet. I counted them one by one. As you can imagine, this took a certain amount of time out of my day and by the time I was finished, I was tired. I’m pretty good with an abacus and was happy enough with my calculation but just to make sure, I counted again and this is where I ran into a problem. When I finished counting I got a very different number – 6,800,183,918. I was so sure that my initial calculation was correct and then it dawned on me. It’s something I should of realised straight away. Both of my calculations were correct. The reason, the second number was bigger is because more people were born since my initial calculation. One problem out of the way, only for another to arise. I was now happy with the number of people but how the bejaysus am I going to list all their names? Bill Y

Stuck in the middle of a decision.

Today I faced a dilemma. It wasn't a dilemma of mass proportions. It wasn't a dilemma that was going to cause any harm to the world but it was something which caused me a degree of distress. There I was on my way to work, waiting for the bus as I normally do. The bus wasn’t in any particular hurry but I was and I didn't know if I should wait at that bus stop or walk to the next one which would get me nearer to my destination and within walking distance of where I needed to be. I eventually decided to walk to the next stop and the inevitable happened. I was halfway between two stops when I seen the bus race towards me rapidly. What was I to do? Should I head back to the initial stop or run to the next one? The empty space between my head couldn't figure out if I was closer to the last stop or the next one. I was aware that time was against me and that I had to make my decision hastily but was massively confused. I'm usually good under pressure but this situation was getting more out of control by the second. Was I to:

a) Go ahead to the next stop
b) Turn around and go back to the first stop

Little did I realise, the answer was:

c) neither of the above - put your hand out and get a taxi

It was a loaded situation. It didn’t matter if I went forwards or backwards, I was going to miss the bus anyway. Bill Y 's Law states:

“As the world hates you, you're always going to make the wrong decision so ignore the choices and invent a new way around the problem or else you’re as lost as the sky is high”.

Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s cool to have a Law named after you ‘cause it’s not! Bill Y

The empty space between my head is into funky designer chairs like these.

Going to work and pretending I’m a mature, responsible, semi-reasonable person who gives a damn about stuff is starting to tire me out. The empty space between my head needs to relax and has cultivated a taste for chairs. I’m not talking about normal everyday chairs. The empty space between my head is into funky designer chairs like these:

I'm as broke as a spoke in a wheel with broken spokes and can't afford any of these chairs but that's not what bothers me. What scares the bejaysus outta me is the third chair that the empty space between my head has chosen. It differs to the other chairs in that it's an electric chair. I can only assume that the empty space between my head is trying to tell me something but I can't quite figure out what it is! Bill Y

Massively confusing error messages Part 2

Yesterday, I was telling you about the very unusual, specific Windows error messages I’ve been getting. The messages are personal and seem to be picking on me. Without going into a massively long story, I obtained a copy of an expensive program without using money. No sooner had I started the program, when the following flashed up on my screen:

I started to panic and attempted to purchase the program but as you can see form the message, the ‘Purchase’ option wasn’t highlighted. I pressed it a few times anyway, hoping it would work and next of all, this one appeared:

I wanted to apologise but the message wouldn’t let me choose that option and I began to sweat. I just wanted to be left alone. A couple of seconds later, I get this one:

I wanted to send a cheque but the message didn’t give me that option. At this stage I didn’t know what to do so I just turned the computer off. This is the first time I’ve turned it on since then and I am bricking it.
Bill Y

Error message! That ain't an error message. This is an error message.

I’m a non violent person who is ready to go to war. I appreciate a joke as much as the next person (when you’re me, you have to) but things are getting fairly out of hand and my confidence is starting to suffer. This is going to sound a bit strange but my computer is starting to communicate with me through error messages. I'm not talking about your basic 'internet explorer has encountered an error and needs to close' error. Very unusual, specific error messages have started appearing. I was sending an email last night and was mocking Bill Gates. All of a sudden, the following message appeared:

It didn't end.
Later that night, I was watching some grown ups celebrating their lust for each other and I was presented with this one:

By now I was starting to worry. I began to think about security and privacy and within seconds, the next one appeared:

That message was just weird but what really scared the bejaysus outta me was that I was actually considering buying a Mac a few moments before the message appeared. I know it's hard to believe all this and this is why I copied the messages. I also hear strange voices in my head but that's a story for another day! Bill Y

I have no sense of humour

Work has kidnapped my sense of humour and refuses to give it back. I figured out that work was the kidnapper because before I went to work I had my sense of humour. I then went to work and I no longer had it. Conclusion – work has kidnapped my sense of humour. I confronted work with these findings and it acted all innocent and offended at the accusation but I know who the guilty party is. Work is clever in that it didn’t steal it in one obvious swift movement. It slowly chipped away at it and gave me money once a month to massively confuse me and conceal it’s actions. It’s only now that my sense of humour is totally gone, that I’m missing it. I spoke to a number of people at work today who are all missing their sense of humour and that has to be more than just a coincidence. Work is the culprit and I intend to prove it. If your sense of humour has disappeared and you think work has stolen it, let me know at

workstolemysensefhumourandiwantitback@y.com

Bill Y

I learned two things today.

As someone who is incapable of learning a lot, I learned two things today:

1) The grown ups in charge of football (FIFA) are to hold an extraordinary meeting where they are going to hook the lying, cheating, dog, aka Thierry Henry up to a polygraph lie detector thingy and ask him a single question: Are you a lying, cheating, dog? If he answers No, we’ll know that he’s lying. If he answers Yes, it’ll be the first honest thing he’s said all week.

2) The second thing I learned today really scared the bejaysus outta me. One of my favourite songs is Snow Patrol’s ‘Set the fire to the third bar’ and features the very amazing Martha Wainwright on vocals. A friend sent me a link to a clip of the band playing a couple of songs for Children in Need, over the weekend. When I realised someone called Cheryl Cole was going to be guest vocalist, I felt ill. My plan was to watch the other track they played and not watch Cheryl Cole butcher a great song. However, curiosity wrestled me to the ground and in the end I submitted and watched the clip. To my total surprise, she was really good and done wonders for the song.

I’m going to break up with my dislike of Cheryl Cole and be more open minded to mediocre pop singer people. This learning experience has taught me that just because singers may mass produce, mundane, mediocre nonsense for the masses, doesn’t necessarily mean they do not possess talent. Some of you may think I speak manure. Those who know me, will tell you that I may well have just taken the first step to growing up! Here’s the clip. Enjoy. Bill Y

It feels good to have walked away from the lying, cheating, dog aka: Thierry Henry

It feels good to have walked away from the lying, cheating, dog aka Thierry Henry and to have finally focussed on other matters. It’s all about leaving things in the past and moving on. Just like the way the lying, cheating, dog left behind every ounce of his integrity, class and honesty when he became a disgrace to his sport, his country and impressionable kids who now think that it’s perfectly alright to cheat their way to the top.

It’s all about moving on. For the country of France, it’s about moving on to the World Cup Finals in South Africa, full of pride in their lying, cheating, dog’s lofty achievements. For the country of Ireland, it’s about moving on with heads held high, safe in the knowledge that our team totally outplayed and outclassed France and were only knocked out of the competition by the illicit actions of a cheat (disgrace) For the match officials who collectively couldn’t even manage a mail service in a Post Office, it’s about moving on to the fact that their part time hobby has come to an end, knowing that they’ll never play with grown-ups again. For myself, it’s about moving on and being thankful that I’m not bitter about the lying, cheating, dog aka Thierry Henry! Bill Y

Walking Away from the lying, cheating, dog aka: Thierry Henry

Right so, it’s time to move away from that lying, cheating dog, Thierry Henry before I become 100% cynically, disgust ridden.

And now for something massively not the same. As far as looking for stuff on the internet is concerned, Google is the Daddy. Google has become part of everyday life and has become very clever. So clever has it become, that if you type something in the search box by mistake, it will make a guess at what you meant to type. Recently, I made a mistake and Google was spot on with the correction. Check it out:

http://tinyurl.com/yfskxcx

Bill Y

Compensation for the Nation?

Ireland: The green part hates Thierry Henry.

I’m going to seek legal advice. The lying, cheating, dog, aka Thierry Henry, aka Le Hand of Frog, has been occupying all my thoughts for the last number of days. If it wasn’t for him, my head would of had lots of different thoughts. I haven’t one ounce of evilness or nastiness in my body but over the last number of day’s I’ve been having thoughts full of hatred and bitterness. I’m going to claim compensation for loss of happy thoughts because I do my best work with happy thoughts and because of the lying, cheating, dog, I haven’t been doing my best work. I’m going to hire that very famous Law Firm - Huey & Dewey and Louie. I know they’re a trio of fictional ducks and are Donald Duck's nephews but what people don’t know is that these ducks were instrumental in helping Erin Brockovich sue the Pacific Gas & Electric Company of California in 1996 for $333m. Trust me when I say, those ducks are sharks!

If I do win the case, I reckon the rest of Ireland may file lawsuits against the lying, cheating, dog. Instead of screaming abuse at those poxy politicians who’ve brought our country to it’s knees, we’ve all been focusing on Le Waste of Space that he truly is. Again, he’s been occupying our thoughts too much and we need to be compensated. When I speak to Huey & Dewey and Louie, I’ll let you know how we stand. Bill Y

Animal of the day: Thierry Henry

I have an idea for a new feature : Animal of the day. Each day an animal is placed on the blog and I say words about said animal. We start with: Thierry Henry. I googled the word ‘Animal’ and the first thing I was presented with was: a living organism characterized by voluntary movement. By this definition, Henry is less than an animal because he claims it was an involuntary movement. Henry’s so called 'involuntary movement' was to handle the ball twice in the box, before Gallas scored the goal to deny Ireland the chance of reaching the World Cup Finals. The lying, cheating, dog. If I was the Google boss, I would make Thierry Henry’s name appear when a user entered the words ‘lying, cheating, dog’ into the search field. Fair is fair. (which is a concept FIFA don’t seem to grasp at all) Believe me when I say, I’d rather write about things I find interesting and mockable than the lying, cheating, dog. Kate Nash has a song called Dickhead. It’s a class tune and could of been written for the lying, cheating dog. Bill Y

It's just not fair or right.

It's kinda rare to find me in a bad mood but I'm just after watching the France v Ireland game and am sick that we have been blatantly robbed of a place in the World Cup Finals in South Africa next year. I hope Thiery Henry can admit that he controlled the ball with his hand in the penalty area. It won't change anything but I think it's important that he's honest enough to put his hands up (no pun intended) and admit he cheated. If you don't know about the match, google it or something. I'm in no mood for writing this post at the moment. Here, watch a video of a ridiculous song, made credible by two people who don't even have a record deal: Pomplamoose with Single Ladies. Disgruntled Bill Y.

Pretending to work hard is not hard work.

Work is the devils work. I wake up, moaning like a demented spoiled brat, at the fact that I have to go to work. Several questions go through the Y head such as what did I ever do to deserve this job? quickly followed by maybe it’s Saturday or Sunday and there is no work today? Later on I calm down slightly when reason pays a visit and says,“There’s so many people out there who are not working. Can you not just stop complaining and be content that you have a job?” This has the desired effect and is one of the few things that can shut me up for a moment. I get to work and get down to the real work:

How can I make it look like I’m working when I’m not?

• Sometimes the classics are unbeatable. Staring at your screen with a puzzled look can work wonders. Facial expressions are what it’s all about. Throw in a few sighs and your boss thinks you’re deep in concentration and stressed. This coupled with the fact that your boss doesn’t even understand what you do in the first place, buys you breathing space to relax. The more experienced dosser will have learned the art of sleeping with their eyes open and after some practice can easily get an hours sleep in.

• Walking around the office with a print out. This creates the illusion that you are visiting colleagues and asking for their help on a project. I mean, if you’ve bothered to print something out in a predominantly paperless environment, surely it’s an important document! The boss will never know that the printout is in fact a picture of Anna and Stina from Sweden who are coming over for the weekend and you just can’t wait to show the lads.

• When writing a personal email, make sure you type it in Word. Throw in the company logo at the top of the page and it looks like an official work document.

• When visiting your mate or the new Swedish girl from Accounts, always walk fast or even run. This gives the impression that you have lots to do when really you’ll have less work to do when you get to the gym later.

• Fill your desk with lots of folders and clutter. Your boss doesn’t know that it’s last years work so take advantage of this. If you know your boss will be asking you for a document later, bury it underneath a pile of other documents and rummage for it when asked for it. This gives the impression that you’re massively busy.

• Visit a second hand book shop and buy a dozen work related books. When your boss sees these books thrown around your desk, you’ll get approving looks. Thick hardback computer books are best suited.

• Last but not least, Don’t send your boss this list! Bill Y

Today's confusion is brought to you by me

In music, if two seemingly unrelated sounds can be played together yet somehow connect, it then becomes jazz.

Who the hell do I think I am? What right have I to assault your sense with the above words? Do I even half expect you to half believe such nonsense? I must have some low opinion of you to even attempt it. Surely there are less pretentious words I could use to get whatever point I’m attempting to get across. To call me a loser is to do a massive injustice to losers everywhere. Having said that….

Might I be mocking myself because I don’t want to appear arrogant? If the opening statement rings true, perhaps it’s not me who is arrogant but rather you, for thinking it in the first place. Huh! It’s also ignorant to assume someone (me) is arrogant ‘cause I know more than you! Huh! Therefore…

Assumptions + Ignorance + Arrogance = you

And…

Right in the first place = Me

So…

Stop being so judgemental and you will live a longer life though not as long as me! Huh! Bill Y

You can make a difference

Question, questions and more questions. When you know as little as I do, you tend to ask quite a lot of questions out of necessity. Someone who is probably well known may well have once said, “the question is more important than the answer”. If that’s the case, I have a question – What exactly does that mean? Of the many questions I ask, there is one which scares the bejaysus outta me. It’s a question which I know the answer to yet I ask it constantly in the hope that the answer will be “no”, The question:

Bon Jovi – Do they exist?

I’ve been asking this question for a number of years now and the answer has always been, “Yes”. If you or your friends know how the answer to the question can be changed to “No”, please call the confidential toll free number: 1-800 - makebonjovigoaway which guarantees anonymity. You’ll be doing the public a service and will feel good inside because you’ve helped society. You can make a difference. Bill Y

Are we all not animals?

The other day I was referred to as ‘an animal’ and unfairly so. This is not the time or place for that particular story, suffice to say if you do not ask, you won’t receive and whatnot. You may end up with a slap in the face but life is for living. Now I’m not sure about you but when someone calls me an animal, I want to know which particular animal they have in mind. Animal, is such a vague term.

Was she referring to me as a Snake or perhaps a Pig? Maybe she meant a Cow or Baboon? Could she have meant a Rat or an Ass? In my head, I thought it was a good time to play a game where I call out an animal and she tells me if I’ve guessed the correct animal. She seemed more preoccupied with screaming abuse at me than playing the game so I didn’t push it. I decided to cut my losses and went out to hunt with the rest of the pack! Bill Y

For arguments sake, let's say the blog posts are funny.

Lately I’ve been having thoughts about It’s good to mock. The idea behind the blog is simple. It’s a vehicle to mock people, places, things/non things, etc. It’s also used to waffle about random stuff. If there is one rule, it’s that the content must be light hearted and not serious. There’s far to much seriousness in the world today. You only have to realise that the world economy is tracking or doing worse than during the Great Depression (note to self – why the bejaysus would you put the words ‘Great’ and ‘Depression' side by side?) to get greatly depressed. The main objective is to have Mocking recognised as an Olympic sport.

Some people think they are funny. I think I am funny. Whether I am funny or not is immaterial. Whether the words I post on the blog are funny is what’s important. For arguments sake, let's say the blog posts are funny. Job done – or is it? My massive problem then becomes the fact that most people’s idea of what’s funny differs from what I perceive as funny. All of a sudden, I’m writing for a niche audience and this changes the goalposts somewhat. To reach my main objective and have Mocking recognised as an Olympic sport, I need my words to reach the masses. Kids need to be taught Mocking from an early school going age. Only then will it trickle through to mainstream society and be accepted as an antidote for the seriousness of the world.

Another issue which arises is that humour is subjective. If I tell a story about a guy (lets call him Popeye Jones) who slipped on an ice pop, and ended up on his ass, some might find it funny. However, if I tell you that Popeye Jones ended up with a concussion, fear of ice pops and now can’t shop in the frozen food section of Tesco – would it still be funny? Well it wouldn’t be if you’re Popeye Jones or if you’ve had a similar experience with ice pops or concussion or Tesco’s!

When I first set the blog up all those 16 weeks ago, I chose a title that I could easily change. If needs be, I can write about music which is probably what I should be doing anyway and it wouldn’t take much to change the name of the blog to It’s good to rock! Bill Y

Are elephants really scared of mice?

Bill Y opens a magazine and sees words about elephants and mice. The article explained that elephants are scared of mice. There was a picture of an elephant and a picture of a mouse and without exaggeration, I can safely say, the elephant was many, many times bigger than the mouse. Sometimes I’m gullible and will believe anything. Other times, I venture to the other extreme and will not believe something until I check it out myself. Very often I have massively confused thoughts but I began searching my less that average size brain for anything I knew about elephants but could only remember:

The African Bush Elephant is the world's largest land animal. An adult male will be about 10-11 feet tall (3 to 3.5 metres), 20-24 feet long (6-7 metres) and weigh about 15000 lb (7500 kg). The females are lightly smaller. They can eat 500 lb (225 kg) of food every day, and drink 50 gallons (190 litres) of water. Elephants are much bigger than mice.

I then called on the same organ to see if I had any knowledge of mice. Again, I could only recall vague snippets of information such as:

Most, but not all, of the rodents called mice are members of the rodent subclass Myomorpha, or mouselike rodents. The approximately 1,100 species in this enormous group are classified in several families. The Old World family Muridae includes the now ubiquitous house mouse, as well as a great variety of wild-living Old World species, including the Old World field mouse, the tiny European harvest mouse (Micromys minutus ) and the African tree mice. Mice are much smaller than elephants.

After thinking about elephants and thinking about mice, I turned my attention to wondering if elephants are indeed scared of mice. My conclusion was not entirely brilliant by any means. All I could figure was:

A mouse might get into the elephant's trunk and either hurt or suffocate it and that probably scares the bejaysus out of the elephant. It’s obvious I’m no Elephantologist or Mousist or whatnot and anyway it doesn’t matter. Bill Y

It's good to solve some of the worlds problems.

Here at It’s good to mock, we occasionally like to solve some of the worlds problems. As it was raining today, we decided to turn our attention to keeping dry when the rain came tumbling down. We had a meeting, pooled our ideas and came up with a number to solutions to staying dry:

An Umbrella – This is a lightweight handheld collapsible canopy. When it rains, you expand the canopy until it covers your head and deflects the rain away from you.

A Hat – This is head covering often in the approximate form of a cone or a cylinder closed at its top end, and sometimes having a brim and other decoration. A Hat differs to an Umbrella in that it is not hand held. NB: A Hat is not be be mistaken for the Norwegian word Hat, which means Hatred.

Oil – Birds keep dry in the rain because their feathers have oil on them. Water just slides past the oil leaving the birds nice and dry. Now that you know this, you just need to cover yourself in birds feathers and you too can keep dry in the rain.

A Poncho – This is essentially a single large sheet of fabric with an opening in the center for the head. Rainproof ponchos normally are fitted with fasteners to close the sides once the poncho is draped over the body, with openings provided for the arms; many have hoods attached to ward off wind and rain.

Upside down boat – If you happen to have an upside down boat, get into it and you will not get wet.

This is just a few of the unique ways to keep dry in the rain. Now you just need to put them into practice. Next time, we turn our attention to numbers and explain our radical theories on what we call Addition, (the combining of two or more numbers together) Subtraction, (the opposite of addition - the deduction of numbers) and Lottery (a game of chance in which people buy numbered tickets in the hope of winning large amounts of money and loosening the shackles of financial burden)

How to help my heads health?

As people who know me will testify, I am not a well balanced individual at all. I’m aware that it’s not considered “proper” behaviour to spend every waking and sleeping moment mocking people but I know of nothing else. Nobody ever sat me down and showed me anything other than mocking. Nobody ever told me not to save my hard earned cash and spend it all on 'die bastard die' t-shirts (one day, the truly cool will wear these t-shirts, you heard it here first!) Not once did the Minister for my Health ever try and fix me but I have a plan.

I’m going to apply for audience tickets for a live topical debate tv show. When the cameras start rolling, I’m going to recite the following speech with the venom of James Bond in that film where he found out his lady had just been killed:

"This country has gone to the dogs and is being run by a pack of useless, well, dogs. It’s dog eat dog in this world and you’re all dogs and stuff. All the politician dogs and rich dogs have doctors to look after their heads but what do I have? I don’t have a doctor to look after my massively confused head. The Minister for my head is me! I’m at a time in my life where I could easily fly over the cuckoos nest and not return to anything resembling normality. Who’s going to care for my head? Well, answer me somebody. You’re all a pack of dog slaves. Arrrgh"

At this stage I’ll slowly start to put my clothes back on and hopefully I’ll have made my point. I know I shouldn’t have to go to such extreme measures but my head is so far removed from reality that it’s the only thing I can do to get my point across. Failing that, it’s a trip to the guys in the white coats but who is going to pay for the many years of help I need? Bill Y

Great invetions for the lazy: The Food Lift

The Minister for State of my finances is not doing a good job but that’s not important right now. In times of boredom, I search the interwebs for stuff to amuse you. I’m not exactly sure why I do it but I do it. Sometimes I get tired. Sometimes other people get tired for different reasons. The people in this ad get so tired that they can’t lift food to their mouth but lucky for them, inventors exist and inventors have come to their rescue with a product. Enjoy. Bill Y

The violence of the non youth of today

It’s just been brought to my attention that an elderly lady (we’ll call her Granny) tried to skip the queue in the post office by using her shopping bags as a weapon! Now the friend who told me this scandalous story, is the very person whom Granny attempted to skip. Let me tell you, Trish is not the type of girl you can just walk by in the post office. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice person and she’ll help you out when she can. Just because you may be an elderly lady and have a shopping weapon with you, doesn’t mean you can skip the queue in the post office. Granny has probably been using the shopping weapon to skip queues for a long time now. I for one am glad that Trish stood up for herself and ended what can only be described as a disgraceful act of attempted violence. It’s Grannies like this who give the non youth of today a bad name, attempting to skip post office queues with shopping weapons. If you or your friends have any Granny related stories of attempted violence please email me at:

watchitgrannyputthataway@itsgoodtomock.com

We need to look out for each other out there. I’m already receiving reports of a Granny selling poison apples. Please be careful if your name is Snow White when buying apples with the name ‘Granny Smith’ on them. I’ll keep you up to date as and when more information arrives. Bill Y.

To Beat it or not to Beat It? That is the question.

Some things in life are just too easy. This isn’t. As I begin the long journey towards growing up, I’m going to attempt to go against everything that I stand for. The following post mentions Michael Jackson (a very mockable subject) but I am going to refrain from mocking! I know, at first it may appear like this is way above me but I’m determined to succeed, so here goes nothing:

The other day I came across an unsigned band called Pomplamoose, covering Michael Jacksons 'Beat It'. I’ve never really listened to the lyrics of the song before now and was massively impressed when I heard them. I think you’ll either like these guys or you won't as the singer has a very distinctive voice.

NB: Right now, I’m experiencing deep feelings of shame because I did not mock when the opportunity presented itself. It’s something I will have to learn to live with. It probably means double mocking in the next post. For now, enjoy the clip. Bill Y

Sometimes being brilliant hurts like a bee sting in the lip

Everyone seems to be protesting about something these days so I think it’s about time I had my say. I’ve been brilliant for a long time now and it’s not once been acknowledged. I know I’m brilliant because I was born in an ‘I am brilliant’ t-shirt, with an ‘I am brilliant’ tattoo and was baptised Bill 'I am brilliant’ Y. When I was little, I went to brilliant school and learned brilliant stuff. As a teenager I honed my brilliant musician skills and have remained brilliant since. If you were to ask me to describe myself in one word, I would spend a couple of moments thinking about it and answer ‘brilliant’.

As someone who is brilliant, I enrich other peoples lives. It’s something I can’t help. One time I was in a lift with three people for 30 seconds and the three of them became brilliant, just by standing next to me. It’s not an easy burden to bare. During all these years of brilliance, I have never once asked the Government for a handout.

This week, the Swine Flu vaccine has finally become available in Ireland and is being offered to those people at most risk of catching what is now a pandemic. As I am brilliant, I asked the Government if I was one of those ‘at risk’ groups. To my total surprise, I was told I was not on the list. I just couldn’t get my brilliant head around this. Surely brilliant people should be vaccinated first? In order of importance, it should be:

1. Brilliant People
2. Elvis Impersonators
3. Bank Officials
4. People called Sue
5. Those Irish twin guys from the Simon Cowell TV programme.
6. Musicians
7. People I know
8. People who know me
9. Traffic Wardens
10. Tax Collectors.

I am a member of BRILL (Brilliant Really Incredible Legitimate Legends) Union and as such am planning a day of action, to counteract this outrageous treatment of brilliant people by the Government. I call on you, brothers and sisters, to protest as loudly as possible at this massive injustice which we simply cannot allow to continue. We need plaques and banners so please send me a 100 Trillion Zimbabwean Dollar note and we can employee some less than brilliant people to make them. This is not a time to be silent. Bill Y

Time to set the Trap

With the French coach naming his squad for the upcoming World Cup Qualifier play offs with Ireland, I thought I would name my Ireland squad though chances are, Trap may well pick a v.different side:

Goalkeepers: Mary Harney (Minster for Health and Children) – Nothing gets by this lady. She has bigger man bits than Jodie Foster and the beard to match. Mike Tyson (ex boxer/tattoo wearer) A man who has a history of getting what he wants and not afraid to bite off the odd ear) Simon Cowell (owner of the rights to everything on TV) Has a massive big head that will fill the goal from post to post.

Defenders: Daniel Day Lewis (Actor person) A man who is so talented that if he ‘thinks’ he is a defender, he will ‘become’ a defender, though the last time I saw him, he was in a wheelchair. I think he mentioned something to do with his left foot. The Invisible Man (Invisible Man) A defender who can’t be seen can only be a good thing. Russell Brand (Funny person) Will try to score with the oppositions sisters/girlfriends/wives/mothers/grandmothers, etc. Paris Hilton (?) The opposition will expend so much energy trying to figure out what she’s famous for that we may catch them off guard. A Tank (armoured fighting vehicle) A Tank has not played for Ireland before but the scouts tell me many positive things about it.

Midfielders: Stephen Ireland (Man City and selfish dog) Actually I would never pick someone who doesn’t want to play for his country. Scrap that one. Al Murray the Pub Landlord (Pub landlord) He doesn’t like the French and might be useful on the team. Bill Y (Me) I’m better at Forensic Accounting  than I am at soccer but don’t pretend you wouldn’t pick yourself, if you were picking the team! Javier Bardem in ‘No Country for Old Men’ (Actor person) He would scare the bejaysus outta the opposition.

Forwards: Usain Bolt (Fast runner dude) This guy would not be slow. Garlic (member of the onion family) We know the French like garlic and they might be freaked out to see Garlic play for Ireland. This could be a big advantage to us. Evil Bill Y (Evil dude) A man who will do anything to win, the eviler it is, the happier he is.

With this talent, I think we have a fighting chance. C’mon Ireland. Bill Y

The Payback

I don’t believe in much. While I was minding my own business the other day, I decided it was time I believed in something. I began wondering about reincarnation and read up on the subject. Apparently several religions have reincarnation at the heart of their belief systems. Reading ‘Tibetan Buddhism for Dummies’ I learned that your rebirth in the next life depends on your actions in this life. If you devote your time and energy to helping others in this world, your reincarnation in the next life is where you will reap the rewards. On the flip side, if you’re a nasty piece of work in this life, your next reincarnation is where you’ll pay for it. A number of eastern religions believe in variations of this principal. I liked the idea behind this and thought about becoming a good person and maybe picking up the rewards in the next life. Then I thought about it the other way around. For me, to be living the life I lead now, means I must of been one miserable son of a dog in my last existence! Bill Y

Stop the bus, I wanna get on.

What is the massive problem with the buses? I go to work. I don’t bring a car because, well, I don’t have a car! Anyway, driving is for Grown Ups. I live in Ireland – it’s cold. I wait for the bus for what seems like an eternity but the bus doesn’t arrive. To add insult to injury, the bus on the other side of the road going in the opposite direction passes by. This always happens! Did I miss some Public Transport Act 2009 which states ‘All buses must go in the opposite direction to where Bill Y wants to go'. I’m not gonna take this lying down. I have a plan. Tomorrow, I’m gonna pretend I’m waiting on the left side of the road when secretly, I’ll be waiting for the bus on the right side. I’ll wait on the left side and when the bus arrives on the other I’ll cross the road and jump on it. I know I shouldn’t have to do this but it’s the only thing that works. My only fear is that buses might read these words and find out about the plan. If that happens, I’ll have to find alternative transport or else work from home. I could say that this is ultimate proof that the world hates me but it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Bill Y

If you can be mocked by me, I can be mocked by me too.

I mock. That’s what I do and I do it a lot. In the interest of fair play I’d like to spend the next few moments mocking myself.

Last Saturday I posted some random facts. One of those facts was:

If you unfolded your brain, it would cover an ironing board.

If I unfolded my brain, it would cover a postage stamp. In the middle of unfolding my brain, I reckon it would become bored as it has the attention span of a massively confused goldfish.

Four times in the last week, I was asked if I was a drummer. This is not the first four times I’ve been asked this question and it won’t be the last. The reason I’m asked this question, is that I constantly go on as if I have a drum kit beside me and tap out rhythms on a desk, on my legs or on anything that comes into contact with me. The answer is No, I’m not a drummer though I am a bassist. Of all the stringed instruments, the bass requires the least amount of talent. That’s why I’m a bassist.

My favourite film is This is Spinal Tap – a documentary (or mockumentary if you will) about a band who are convinced they’re good but have to gig in tiny horrible venues and find themselves in ridiculous situations playing gigs and recording. The reason I like it so much is that I’ve played in bands where we thought we were good and had to gig in tiny horrible venues and found ourselves in ridiculous situations playing gigs and recording. Bill Y

Loose Women spending loosely makes Bill Y lose the plot.

Recently we mocked the Loose Women show where we noted that in our humble opinion, the programme was patronising to women of a certain age. A number of ladies have been in contact to say that they love the show. In response to those responses, Bill Y says:

“I know you love the show but that doesn’t make it any less patronising, you pack of Mills & Boon readers ”

Today Bill Y draws your attention to another phenomenon which targets the very same Loose Women audience. In the picturesque town where I live, there are two shops a couple of feet from each other where you can buy bed clothes, linen and curtains, etc. These shops are constantly packed with the ‘Loose Women’ crowd who cannot stop spending money there. Surely there are only so many beds to make and windows to cover, which poses the question:

Why the bejaysus are people of a certain age obsessed with shops that sell bed clothes, linen and curtains, etc? The first 10 answers received, win my respect.

Email: whywhywhythebejaysus@itsgoodtomock.com

Enough said. Bill Y