Age

In the last of his series of lectures, Dr Adolphous Bongo looks to the future, and finds that the only consolation of spending his declining years sitting in his own filth in the day lounge of some third rate retirement home is the prospect that his razor sharp brain will have deteriorated to such a point that he will no longer have the capacity to care.

"Immortality is not necessarily such an attractive proposition. Take a look at the people around you. Go on, do it now. Ask yourself: do you really want those people hanging round forever?"

The Bongo Lectures

Inside the Nun Factory

If, like me, you thought that nuns grew on trees, you’ll be fascinated to learn the truth behind these be-wimpled denizens of the ecclesiastical aristocracy. What began as a cottage industry has grown into a multi-million pound manufacturing concern. And demand is growing, with UK nun exports having risen by three hundred per cent in the last ten years.

Check out the secrets of industrial nun fabrication here.

Want to know more? Our handy guide to standard British nuns is a must for the serious nun spotter.

Brain Surgery

Let Dr Bongo take a wrench to your brain valve and tighten your think nuts - he knows what he's doing. Or at least he thinks he does, and we're not inclined to argue with him when he's swinging a spanner about.

"Fixing a brain is very much like fixing a car, and just as every car is different, so is every brain. The brain of one of your proper intellectuals - like an actual professor, for instance - is a top of the range luxury saloon. Every part is precision tooled, and the whole thing is designed to operate at the very peak of its performance. Working on such an advanced machine takes years of experience and meticulous preparation. Most of my patients, on the other hand, are more easily compared to an old banger, and can usually be sorted out with one really good belt from a big hammer."

Brain Surgery

New Old Stuff

Having spent the last few years languishing in the dark cobwebbed recesses of a forgotten hard drive, over thirty articles have been made available once more in our brand new third archive. Now benefiting from new artwork and the occasional tweak, these articles first appeared between 2000 and 2006.

Read about Edward Smiley's Cold Fusion Sandwiches, read Belinda Sommers' review of Barney's Magic Wonder Show, or about the Ladies of Melton Mowbray Rotary Club and their attempt to track down the yeti and give it a makeover.

There's the latest news from the Fish Olympics, a chance to get hold of a quality professionally grown beard, and a disturbing report on the latest outbreaks of cake rage.

Check out the archive here.

Pork

"We do still have an obligation to tackle the obese. And by that, I don't mean that we should leap on them as they waddle down the street. Tempting though it is to wrestle fatty to the ground and scream obscenities at him for his own good, I would not personally attempt it without protective clothing and heavy lifting gear."

This week Dr Bongo debates the wisdom of shovelling a constant diet of cake and burgers down your gullet, and demonstrates his customary sympathy for those whose addictions outstrip their metabolisms.

The Bongo Lectures

Shopping

"If there's one thing that is guaranteed to reduce human civilisation to its knees, spread doom and pestilence across the face of the Earth and forever scatter all of mankind's mighty works to the four winds, it's shopping."

This week Dr Bongo discusses the agony of shopping, in a thinly veiled attempt to plug his DVD, Beating Cerebral Mildew.

"Quite why people are prepared to gather in great numbers in these cathedrals to the clueless is something I have never been able to fathom. Speaking as someone who prefers to stand apart from the baying throng, I fail to understand how these cretins can tolerate each other's company. In my own considered opinion - which, being a doctor, is both considered and considerable - the only factor that enables them to get through the day without one of their fellow citizens, in a moment of uncontrollable altruism, sticking a pick axe through their brains, is the shortage of decent pick axe shops."

"I don't like to blow my own trumpet - I have a man who comes in twice a week to do that for me, and a lady down the road very kindly shakes my maracas every third Sunday."

This week Dr Bongo addresses the issue of speed: what happens to people when they travel very very fast and, more importantly, what's left of them after they suddenly stop.

The Bongo Lectures: Speed

"We have strong indications that travelling at speed causes shrinkage to the human frame. In some cases, our subjects were as much as two feet shorter following the high velocity test, although it is unclear at this point whether this is a result of the actual journey, or the steel reinforced wall that we used to stop them at the other end."

Pianos

Falling pianos are the number one cause of accidents in the home, or at least that's what Dr Bongo told us. Admittedly, he was trying to sell us the Bongo patented piano resistant helmet at the time. Perhaps foolishly, we declined to invest in this precaution, and although we have yet to be worried by pianos, falling or otherwise, we were distressed to learn that our cleaning lady was struck by a tuba last Thursday afternoon. I know, astonishing isn't it - we have a cleaning lady.

Anyhow, Dr Bongo discusses the dangers of falling pianos in his latest lecture, which you can apply to your ears by following this link: http://www.bleeding-obvious.co.uk/bongo/playerpop.php

Implants

"Have you ever thought what it might be like to turn on the television just by snapping your fingers? How about opening the fridge by nodding your head? And just imagine the surprise of your friends, if you have any, when you demonstrate your extraordinary ability to start your car by deploying a discreet fart."

Doctor Bongo once again demonstrates that he operates on a higher level to most mortal men, especially if that operation involves sticking bits of machinery into innocent strangers.

www.bleeding-obvious.co.uk/bongo/playerpop.php

1.02 Soap

Episode 2 of Doctor Bongo's 13 part guide to everything you need to know about everything is now available. This week Dr Bongo tells us about soap and, more importantly, how he deals with people who have an apparent allergy to it.

"There certainly seems to be something nasty about it anyway, or why else would the reeking crap-stained rabble that drag their begrimed bodies into my surgery day after stinking day go to such lengths to avoid it?"

Get it at www.drbongo.co.uk or find it on iTunes

Fruit

The first of Dr Bongo's hotly anticipated lectures to the nation - any nation - is here. The eminent physician waxes lyrical about the merits of fruit, and ultimately concludes that they haven't any.

"I keep it basic, obviously, since if you start with the assumption that everyone around you is a retard, you rarely ever need to explain yourself twice."

Dr B shares his thoughts about the dangers of carrots, hints at the waywardness of plums and fails to explain how he managed to end up on the same bill as Bon Jovi.

"I shall rejoice when we finally see the ratification of a treaty to ban the international use of watermelons, and the harshest penalties for all those who persist in deploying these saturated citric death pods."

Point your ears towards www.drbongo.co.uk or subscribe here

Coming Friday 7th October

New to The University of the Bleeding Obvious, this Friday 7th October sees the first in a series of 13 weekly podcasts by our eminent colleague, Doctor Adolphous Bongo. Over the coming weeks, Dr Bongo will address matters as diverse as Alien Abduction, Soap, Children and Remotely Activated Biometric Implants. In his first broadcast, Dr Bongo will make his feelings known on the subject of fruit, paying particular attention to why he thinks it is the work of the devil.

"Carrots are sharp and pointy, and you could easily have someone’s eye out. Best to avoid carrots completely, unless you envisage some kind of vegetable-based organic knife-fight scenario."

Dr Bongo's lecture on fruit will be available at www.drbongo.co.uk from 07/10/11.

www.drbongo.co.uk

In advance of his forthcoming series of lectures, our friend Dr Adolphous Bongo has 'suggested' that we update his pages on our website. It's rarely wise to view one of Dr Bongo's 'suggestions' as a mere recommendation. Do so and you are likely to experience one of his 'gentle reminders', which usually involves a visit from two of his burlier associates equipped with a surprisingly varied range of woodworking tools.

To spare 'Keith' and 'Big Tony' the trouble of a visit to the local DIY store, we have therefore decided to act on Dr Bongo's request, the results of which you can reach here: http://www.drbongo.co.uk. Dr Bongo's new microsite contains information about the good doctor, some of his celebrated essays and details of his many fine publications. There's even a self-diagnosis application, to save you the trouble of troubling the doc in person, which is always a wise course of action.

We think it's all splendid, and we hope the doctor really, really likes it - because we're quite fond of our kneecaps and we'd like to keep them.

The Bongo Lectures

Coming soon... The Bongo Lectures

Bongo Twitterage

Dr Adolphous Bongo - our friend, colleague and regular beneficiary of an undisclosed sum intended to ensure our continued 'protection' - has asked us to tell you that he has now joined Twitter. Good luck to him. Since he rarely writes sentences containing fewer than 140 words, we're interested to see what he can do with 140 characters. Henceforth, his wit and wisdom will be streamed direct from his brains to your PC, and I'm sure you're all very pleased about that.

Follow @AdolphousBongo

...Scandal

Our associate, Doctor Adolphous Bongo, would like to take this opportunity to address you on a matter of a delicate nature.

Ah yes… Now, this is going to be a little awkward. No doubt many of you are still digesting the lurid minutiae of my private affairs, which have so recently embellished the otherwise drab grey pages of our nation’s less reputable tabloids. Well done, you. Now, whilst I would like to comment upon these stories, and refute some of the more colourful and, frankly, physically challenging aspects, I’m afraid that I am unable to do so. Thanks to the gormless spanner whom I have unwisely chosen to handle my legal affairs, I find that I am the unfortunate victim of a backfiring super injunction. This means that whilst everyone else in the world is at liberty to chew over the intimate details of my personal life, I myself am forbidden to discuss it.

Hello there, my name is Doctor Adolphous Bongo, although I’m probably not allowed to tell you that. It’s infuriating, but if this business has taught me nothing else, it has brought home to me the shocking levels to which the press has sunk. I’m not in the habit of reading the likes of The Daily Whoppers, or whatever these things are traditionally called, and I was quite unprepared for the sight of so much bare flesh masquerading as news. If I wanted to undertake regular examinations of the naked human form in almost forensic detail, I would make a point of attending my surgery more often. That said, it has to be admitted that Mrs Macauly’s varicose veins don’t compete on quite the same level as the gorgeous Tracy, 19, from Tunbridge Wells.

I suppose the real lesson here is that there is a limited amount of wisdom in trusting your legal affairs to someone who operates out of a caravan parked on the waste ground behind the Red Lion. This man, the chief cause of my distress, goes by the name of Mr Ralph Hampney-Cocksure LL.B(Hons). Don’t allow the letters appended to his handle confuse you into thinking that he is anything less than a certifiable cretin. Granted, he’s villainous and despicable enough to call himself a lawyer, and in more favourable circumstances I might even be proud to call him a brother. But when charged with obtaining for me one teeny-weeny little super injunction, the man has demonstrated a level of mental capacity one would normally attribute to a bar snack. Seriously, in a straight up contest of mental acuity, my money would be on the Cheesy Wotsit every time. I wouldn’t trust the prick to operate a toothbrush without sticking it into the wrong orifice - possessing, as he does, the kind of searing and incisive intellect that would be admirable in nothing more sentient than a house brick.

Anyway, what’s wrong with dressing up a donkey in rubber? I put this question to you apropos of nothing in particular, you understand. Certainly, nothing that I am liberty to publicly disclose. I’m just saying, purely as an exercise in idle speculation, that if a respectable, upstanding professional man – a medical man, perhaps… let’s say, for the sake of argument, a dentist – well if such a man wished to consort with a consenting quadruped, four gallons of taramosalata and a length of rubber hose, then shouldn’t he be allowed to do so, without the whole thing getting splashed all over the Sunday papers? I mean, it’s getting to the point where a man can’t call a pair of galoshes, a family-sized pack of chocolate fingers and a tyre lever his own.

Speaking of tyre levers, I was fortunate to bump into the eminent bottom doctor Sir Harvey Bumstead at the golf club the other day. Lord, what an awful drag! Golf, I mean, not Sir Harvey. Actually, Sir Harvey’s not the most sparkling of company, but he’s typical of the kind of bigwig one get to jostle elbows with whilst teeing off on the seventh. Interestingly he told me that he’s got my solicitor - the Cocksure fellow - pencilled in for some kind of rectal procedure next Tuesday, and he very charitably invited me to pop along and lend a hand, so to speak. And that, in case you were wondering, is where the tyre lever will come in – it is my intention to give the chap the kind of injunction that will permanently change the way he walks. And no amount of taramosalata will put a smile on his face after that.

Announcing the UBO News Podule

Now you can get bite size chunks of The University of the Bleeding Obvious for your website. The UBO News Podule displays random selections from our news archive, and can be easily customised and embedded into your web pages without the need for extensive restructuring, heavy welding or the application of lubricants. Not unless you're really into that kind of thing, anyway.

Get it here

Come to Monkworld

Chortle at the antics of the funny friars in the monks' circus. Maybe catch a glimpse of one of the mighty feral bishops that roam the ancient woodland. It's all here at Monkworld, just off the A329! Check out the interactive map.

Out Now

Over 280 pages of selected nonsense, including flying carrots, haunted kitchen appliances, modified tortoises, Truffles the Gentleman Pig and much more.

More Details...

Teaching Carrots to Fly

To mark the release of The University of the Bleeding Obvious: Volume Two we are pleased to present the three minute animated epic "Teaching Carrots to Fly".


Thrill to the gloriously executed 2D animation! Gasp at the stunning mono soundtrack! Shudder at the spectacularly adequate vocal performances!

Head on over to YouTube now, and prepare to be slightly dazzled...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzpUub-Xulg

Publshed soon...

The University of the Bleeding Obvious: Volume Two

From the archives of The University of the Bleeding Obvious comes this second collection of diverse amusements. Dug up, hosed down and dragged screaming into the light, many of these articles have been lovingly restored to their former glory. Using rare nouns sourced from all over the world, and the latest polymer-based verbs and adverbs, fragile sentences have been painstakingly cleaned and repaired, and whole paragraphs reconstructed.

So now you can enjoy "Shave the Moon!" and "Oven Chimps" as they were originally meant to be seen, pore hungrily over "Teaching Carrots to Fly" presented in glorious high definition, and read about a day in the life of Doctor Adolphous Bongo, confident in the knowledge that none of the words will drop off. Enjoy.

Contents

• Invitation to a Monk's Tea Party


• Stopping Distances


• Caught by the Fuzz


• Piffin


• Pig, Devil


• The Bubble Bloke


• Professional Scarer


• Dr Bongo's Moles


• Mountain Rescue


• Tattoo, Ants, Gravy


• Shave the Moon!


• Quickfire Questions


• Sofas are from Venus…


• Cut Price Chips


• History of Rock: The Beatles


• Not Funny


• *@%£!, Zebras


• Auras by Post


• There and Back Again by Elastic


• Motorcycle Display Teams


• Skydiving


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Dog Poo with Wheels


• Fats Porker


• Oven Chimps


• The Thoroughfare of Success


• Butterfly


• Yeti Makeover


• Occuloid Laserprobe


• First Annual Bleeding Obvious Award…


• Jaggedy


• Louse, Spiders, Mars


• The Trivial Accident Group


• Rob Hammond's Essential Guide to Buddhism


• A Very Local Paper


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Wind Powered Spoon


• Appliances


• Maisy Donnington's Guide to Perking Yourself Up


• Exploding Dinners


• Project Scooby


• Sandwiches Through the Ages


• The Sandwich Advisor


• Cold Fusion Sandwiches


• Fatquake


• Teaching Carrots to Fly


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Wing Mirrors for Fish


• Optimum Leaning Angles


• Brick II


• Did Man Really Go to Belgium?


• Wind Tunnel Technician


• Global Moistening


• Cobblers, 1965


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Egg Umbrella


• Barker Harris


• Amateur Stamp Collector Collector


• Nobby Wentworth's Pet Surgery


• History of Rock: Elvis


• Gravy Boat, Chip-Writer


• Jazz Bomb


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Sneeze Wheel


• Fish Olympics


• Official Apologies


• A Tall Order


• What Is It?


• Flyover, DIY Olympics


• Springboard to the Stars


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Pogo Ejector Seat


• Pirates


• Sir Barnaby Tonk Shines a Light


• New Horizons in Business Management


• Montreux Clinic for Aural Readjustment


• Mozart's Parrot


• Polishers, Monsters


• Barney's Magic Number Show


• Jez Moonbeam Invents… Headlights for Sheep


• Traditional Wisdom


• Grand Theft Equine


• Perfect Circle, Rungs


• The Henderson Foundation For Recently Bereaved Herrings


• Lobster Facts


• Dr Bongo - A Day in the Life


• Skippy's Opera


• Transatlantic Gardening

Coming Soon:

The University of the Bleeding Obvious: Volume Two

New T-Shirts, Old Books

Our newly-appointed head of merchandising, Mr Rodney Plunkett, would like a few words with you all on the occasion of our shop relaunch.

Yes, hello, Plunkers here, and I must say that this is a bit of a turnip for the old books, or however the expression goes. Old Rodders, who the fellows back at my old school once voted ‘Chap Most Likely to Accidentally Flush Himself Down the Toilet’, being made head of merchandising! And they said that I’d never amount to anything.

I must confess that the route to this present exalted position has been somewhat circuitous. After Cambridge, the Rodmeister was fast-tracked into a cushy little number at the Foreign Office, but I made rather a hash of it, I’m afraid. When a chap gets caught with his hand in the till, his nose in the personal affairs of the Ambassador for Lugash and his finger in a rather pretty little secretary called Janice, there’s really no option but to whisk him out of the way before the press can get a whiff of his aftershave.

Subsequent to this trifling setback my Aunt Jemima formed the opinion that a spell in the teaching profession might do me a world of good and, more importantly, keep me out of harm’s way. Aunt J being in a position to pull a few strings - and a formidable sod to boot - she soon obtained for me a cosy little post in a prep school, miles from civilisation in the wild and woolly badlands of East Anglia. I have to say that old Roddington really took to the life of a schoolmaster: drinking tea in the staff room, supervising rugger matches and occasionally scrawling ‘could do better’ in the odd exercise book. But for the incident of the albino donkey, the margarine and the industrial strength suction pump, I would have been there still.

There followed similarly ignominious stints in the South African police, an animal charity, as headline writer for the Bbc ‘news’ website, and as a solicitor. In this last post yours truly very nearly earned the distinction of securing the first hanging in Britain since 1964, for a man I was defending on a parking offence. I was also a merchant banker for a while - that didn’t end well.

Not to worry. When a fellow has a CV like that to his name, it’s only a matter of time before someone comes a-knocking. Happily, the people doing the hammering on Roddypoop’s door were those jolly chaps from The University of the Bleeding Obvious. Actually, Aunt Jemima was instrumental in this instance as well - apparently she has Polaroids of that Farnsworth fellow. I haven’t seen them myself, but Uncle Steven says they’re pretty racy stuff.

But so much for all this flim-flammery. The point is the UBO chaps have relaunched the shop, with the books that they brought out years ago, and some spanking brand new T-shirts, which I’m told is what the kids really go for. And they wanted the Rodulator to generally ‘big it up’, get the word out, so to speak, and drum up a bit of trade. And of course, my first response once given this awe-inspiring task was obvious: sandwiches.

T-shirts and books are all very splendid, but in my experience what the baying public really wants is somewhere it can get a really good sandwich. Not as easy at it sounds, once you’ve looked into it. It’s the packaging that really taxes the old bean – just can’t seem to get the hang of it. Most of the more fragile concoctions don’t survive in transit, and anything involving mayonnaise just trickles out of the envelope. We’re experimenting with crease-resistant lettuce and reinforced chicken, but until we get it right, you’ll just have to be content with the more traditional fare.

TTFN.
Plunkers
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