The University of the Bleeding Obvious

Age

2011-12-31T10:07:00.002Z

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

2011-12-05T14:45:00.004Z

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

2011-12-02T10:43:00.002Z

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

2011-11-25T19:57:00.003Z

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

2011-11-25T18:25:00.002Z

"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

2011-11-19T12:42:00.002Z

"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."

2011-11-12T17:23:00.003Z

"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

2011-10-29T19:17:00.002+01:00

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

2011-10-22T09:20:00.002+01:00

"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

2011-10-14T17:31:00.003+01:00

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

2011-10-07T18:14:00.003+01:00

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

2011-10-02T13:36:00.003+01:00

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

2011-09-25T15:05:00.004+01:00

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

2011-09-22T17:35:00.000+01:00

Coming soon... The Bongo Lectures

Bongo Twitterage

2011-08-17T19:30:00.002+01:00

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

2011-05-31T10:55:00.004+01:00

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

2011-05-14T14:05:00.004+01:00

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

2011-04-22T15:25:00.002+01:00

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

2011-04-12T19:00:00.002+01:00

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

2011-04-09T23:28:00.006+01:00

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...

2011-04-08T16:26:00.006+01:00

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:

2011-04-06T16:43:00.007+01:00

The University of the Bleeding Obvious: Volume Two

New T-Shirts, Old Books

2011-01-16T14:45:00.004Z

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
UK Shop
US Shop

Kicking and Screaming

2010-09-17T13:50:00.003+01:00

The latest update, Kicking and Screaming, has now gone live, and it's frankly too late for anybody to do anything about it. Sorry.

For your viewing pleasure it comes in two distinct flavours - the web version which you can visit here and a shiny downloadable extended pdf version, with extra articles, which is here: pdf. You can also download wallpapers and posters, and there's one or two other twiddly bits tucked away in there. So, off you go then... why are you still here?

17.09.10

2010-08-30T13:03:00.002+01:00

The University of the Bleeding Obvious is pleased to announce that its new update, Kicking and Screaming, will be unleashed upon the planet on Friday 17th of September.

Now, we recognise the difficulty - perhaps even the futility - of trying to interest people in original material on the internet. We all know, of course, that when Professor Heinz Wolff invented the worldwide web in 1973, it was specifically designed to allow characters of limited personality to air their pointless opinions on the latest vacuous celebrity to grace the supermarket tabloids, to debate the finer details of TV programmes they ought to have stopped watching twenty years ago, or to post pictures of their cats.

This poses a problem. I don’t have a cat, I couldn’t give a stuff about Sapphire and Bleeding Steel, and the news that this week Kerry Katona is fat, thin, on drugs, off drugs, divorced, engaged or has been struck by a meteorite whilst shopping in Iceland rarely keeps me awake at night. Nevertheless, in the interests of publicity I realise I’m going to have to bite the bullet, and so without further delay I can now reveal that the forthcoming Kicking and Screaming will be a tribute to Katie Price. Yes, that’s right, Katie Price. Hello search engines.

Katie Price was born in Jordan in 1978. A child prodigy, by the age of twelve she had already written five piano concertos, published a highly-acclaimed thesis on the application of fluid mechanics in cheese production and, with Shaun Ryder, revolutionised the field of wind turbine design. However, her first love had always been quantum mechanics, and it was her work on the spin properties of muons that led to being awarded the Nobel Prize for Physics, made a Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire, and offered a two-year contract to get her baps out three times a week on page three of a popular British newspaper. She once went all unnecessary in a supermarket in Hull.

So, to recap then, that’s Kicking and Screaming - A Tribute to Katie Price, going live on 17th September, 2010. Lovely.

A Learned Doctor Writes

2010-08-24T19:33:00.004+01:00

In advance of the exciting, and indeed dangerously imminent, new instalment of The University of the Bleeding Obvious (not long now, kids - don't get too excited!), we have great pleasure in announcing the appointment of our new medical officer, Dr A Bongo (whom God preserve) of Hampton Wick. He has been kind enough to send us this brief address:

Stop right there! Have you ever seriously considered what would happen if a piano fell on you as you were reading this? No, of course you haven't - that would be mental. And yet laboratory tests prove that in ninety-nine percent of all cases, falling pianos can be extremely nasty.

Good evening. My name is Dr Adolphous Bongo, and I don't want any of you thinking that there is the slightest reason to doubt my professional integrity, just because you've read my name in the national press alongside certain allegations of misconduct. The bottom line is that the British Chiropractic Association have their way manipulating the spine, and I have mine. Hell, if you're going to crack bones, do it properly. The fact that my method involves the application of power tools only serves to illustrate my progressive take on the matter, and any suggestion that the permanently 'folded' state of Mrs Eileen Trumpton is the result of malpractice is entirely erroneous. Trust me, you should have seen the old bat when I first met her, she was like a bleeding concertina.

Anyway, the reason I mention the piano thing is because as a result of new legislation, falling gold reserves and the shifting of the Gulf Stream, those Bleeding Obvious people have found it necessary to appoint me to the position of Chief Medical Officer. You know, like that chap with the craggy face in Star Trek. That's a point - how come the Star Trek Enterprise gets its own doctor? In my experience, most organisations of that size make do with some mouth-breathing teenager who wanders around aimlessly with a first aid kit on his belt, and whose only experience of medicine is a a three-hour course in first aid, a succession of dead goldfish and a box set of House. And yes, I did say 'Star Trek Enterprise'. Get over it.

Of course, my relationship with The University of the Bleeding Obvious goes back some way, so when they approached me to help them out I naturally bent over backwards to come to their assistance - which I can't help but feel is one more triumph for my particular brand of chiropractic treatment. Incidentally, my interest in the subject was the result of a fortuitous accident - I wanted to do a course on feet, but wandered into the wrong evening class.

I should point out that the risk of being hit by a falling piano in your own home is minimal, although ultimately it does depend on your particular lifestyle. By and large, most people don't have bulky musical apparatus suspended from their ceilings, and if you do then you can expect to shoulder the burden of the blame just as much as you can anticipate withstanding the impact of the instrument. Nevertheless, it is my job to consider such risks. And now, thanks to my diligence, my experience and my dogged pursuit of backhanders, I am in a position to say that 'Kicking and Screaming' is quite probably safe for public consumption and that the danger of anyone succumbing to an overdose of falling pianos is relatively slight.

Bongo

Decisions, Decisions

2010-08-11T20:45:00.001+01:00

It's going a bit wrong now. The pool of articles that I was in the process of whittling down has grown from twenty to about twenty-six. Some of the newer ones actually have real proper actual jokes in them - not very funny ones, but jokes nonetheless. Do people really want to know about Pigmongering, I ask myself? Is the Ministry of Factular Informations worthy of inclusion? And should I really unleash Mrs Wilberforce and the River on the world, even though the world is likely to maintain an irritating display of indifference towards it?

In my desperation I turned to dark and ancient arts, conferring with practitioners of forbidden knowledge from the dawn of time. I paid particular attention to Madame Fatima who announces her predictions to the faithful through the astrology column in the Evening Bugle. She seemed to think it was a good day for me to meet new people, and that my lucky number would be five, but otherwise refrained from commenting on my particular dilemma.

And then it struck me - does it really matter? Onwards then, and don't spare the horses! And as for Mrs Wilberforce - I like it, so she's in.

Coming September 2010

2010-08-02T15:34:00.004+01:00

It's been a while, but this September will see the first first new collection of material on The University of the Bleeding Obvious since regular updates ceased in 2006. Basking under the title "Kicking and Screaming: A Tantrum in 12 Movements", this collection of articles will not only continue the glorious tradition of silliness and nonsense, but also aim a satirical swing at the issues of power and responsibility. And all that without being pompous, pretentious and embarrassing. Oh yes.

About twenty articles have been written. These will be whittled down to a dozen (I'm currently taking advice - the sentence "Yeah, that's crap, lose it" is one that I'm getting to know and love). In addition to the web pages, there will be a downloadable PDF with extras! Gosh! Possibly even a free mystery gift if I can figure out a way of transmitting Dairylea triangles over the internet. Oh, I've given it away now...

Vote Bongo

2010-04-22T11:26:00.003+01:00

Vote for me and win a Ford Fiesta!

Hello there. My name is Doctor Adolphous Bongo, twice named runner up in the coveted 'Warmest Hands of the Year' category by the readers of Amateur Proctologist. Not that I'm an amateur, of course; neither, strictly speaking, am I a proctologist, but there's no harm in keeping your hand in. The point is, they don't bestow awards on just anyone. That kind of recognition is only enjoyed by the most upstanding and trustworthy of citizens, and the fact that I have photographs of the editor of that august publication in the act of - coincidentally - 'keeping his hand in' is entirely immaterial.

"But hang on Adolphous," I can hear you saying. "You're standing for election? Proctology awards are all very well, but does this really qualify you for parliament? Surely, an MP's duties amount to more than inserting a carefully warmed digit into the correct orifice?" Well firstly, less of the Adolphous - it's Doctor Bongo to you, fart face. Secondly, yes there's more to this politics lark than fingering bottoms, but as an entry-level qualification, you've got to admit that it's a good place to start.

Nevertheless, I appreciate that a dubiously acquired award, dished out by an obscure periodical, will not necessarily be sufficient to secure a majority. No, it's going to take more than that - but, happily, notmuch more. I remain supremely confident of success, not least because I understand you. Yes, you, the electorate.

I know who you are, because I see you shuffling your fat, pendulous forms into my surgery every week. I know you have a problem with body odour and exhibit the kind of flatulence which would render the keeping of canaries a practical impossibility. I know that however often I tell you to stop eating chips and start taking exercise, you will refuse to fritter away your time in pursuit of an active life and instead devote your waking hours to steadily moulding your gelatinous backside to the shape of the sofa.

And, good grief, why ever not? You live in a fusty little semi-detached house that you're not quite happy with, with a wife whom you find slightly irritating and two and a half kids whom you suspect are probably not yours. You have a painfully large overdraft, a tedious echoing void where your social life used to be, and derive little satisfaction from your pointless job, the extravagantly obscure title of which may sound impressive but really just conceals the fact that you don't do anything at all. Don't you deserve a little 'me time'? If slouching for hours on end in front of TV talk shows and trashy talent competitions is what it takes for you to regain some of your self-respect, then go for it. Knock yourself out, why don't you?

More importantly, I know what you want. You don't want some politician who is going to take account of your best interests and work to improve your life and those of your fellow citizens. You just want someone to blame when everything goes tits up; some thieving, lying career-obsessed shit with his hand in the till, who you can point to when things get tough and shout, "It's him, it's him, it's all his fault! He's the reason my life is crap!"

You don't want a politician who will represent your views in parliament, because you have no views other than a few nebulous notions on the subject of international diplomacy, a passionate and unwavering faith in Arsenal's back four, and an unshakable belief that everything that's wrong with this country is down to illegal immigrants, young people, old people and everybody else that isn't you.

What you want is someone you can elect to office and not have to bother about for another five years, because democracy is something that only ever happens during a General Election. Whatever naughtiness they get up to in the intervening time, whatever deals they break, havoc the wreak or crap they speak must be allowed to pass unnoticed other than to provide the meat for disapproving gossip and the gravy for tabloid scandal.

None of which really matters anyway, because these details will fail to lodge in your beer-soaked, nicotine-stained brain for longer than it takes to utter the phrase 'they're all the bloody same'. By the time the next parliamentary popularity poll comes around all will be forgiven and forgotten and you'll vote them back in because the leader of their particular 'gang' has the biggest, brightest smile and is offering you the shiniest trinkets.

So why should you vote for me? Well, I'll be honest with you. You don't like me and I don't like you, and your reward for making me your MP will be to have your taxes squandered, your public services shattered and whatever faith you have left in government utterly smashed. Nevertheless, you'll vote for me because I will take advantage of every little fiddle I come across, and am confident that I'm more than equal to the task of inventing ingenious new ones. You'll vote for me because I promise whole-heartedly to take no interest whatsoever in the affairs and concerns of my constituency, and am unlikely to even visit, unless there's money in it. You will vote for me because I will lobby on behalf of the highest bidder, vote according to my own business interests, court publicity purely in order to further my own career and explore levels of sexual deviancy that I had hitherto never thought medically possible.

But more than this, the real reason that you'll vote for me, the thing that cannot fail to swing this whole election in my favour is that when you put your cross next to my name on that ballot paper on May 6^th, you'll automatically be entered into a free draw to win a brand new shiny Ford Fiesta. You see what I mean now when I tell you that I know people?

Vote Bongo

Coming soonish...

2010-04-11T21:39:00.003+01:00

After footling around for some little while and scribbling the occasional idea on the back of envelopes, I'm now in a position to say that some time in the relatively near future there will be a brand new series of articles appearing on The University of the Bleeding Obvious. This one-off update will probably go under the title of 'Kicking and Screaming', it might possibly consist of a dozen or so articles, which may conceivably have a common theme. It is entirely possible that it may feature a badger with a corner shop, gardening with military precision, an arse kicking competition and nutty shrapnel. Then again, some or all of these details may be entirely erroneous.

The purpose of this admittedly vague announcement is to generate some sense of anticipation and wonder. Is it working? Ah. The other reason is that it might just motivate me to get some work done. Should this ploy be successful, expect to see more information here shortly.

Cooker Island...

2009-11-22T19:00:00.002Z

In the late fifties and throughout the sixties there persisted rumours of a remote island where abandoned domestic appliances flourished and thrived. It was a paradise where trouser presses might happily bask in the tropical sunlight, unmolested by man; where food processors could be free to forage amongst the leaf litter for bugs and grubs, unnoticed by the prying eyes of civilisation; and where toasters gambolled playfully amongst the tall grasses, without the worry of having someone periodically stuff them with slightly stale bread and expect them to char it unevenly on one side.

By 1969 the secret histories of this fabled place were the stuff of hippy legend, and inspiration to many - not least a talented young graduate called Benny Callan. After spending the best part of his student years tonked out on cheap cider and cleaning products, Benny determined that his academic career required a big finish, rather than a slow, spluttering fizzle into real life. To this end he resolved to delay his entry into a promising career at his uncle's bank, and instead squander the next year travelling around the world, spending his parents' money in search of the mythical Cooker Island.

And that was how he came to be on the container ship, the SS Summerfield, when it inconveniently sprang a leak in the middle of the Indian Ocean and decided that it didn't want to float anymore. Benny, on the other hand, did want to float - he wanted this very much - and clung desperately to a convenient piece of flotsam until he finally washed up on a beach.

Right from the outset, as he lay face down, exhausted, in the baking sand, Benny knew that this was no ordinary place. Maybe it was the sight of the herd of electric kettles that snuffled about in the sand beyond the dunes. Maybe it was the flock of reel-to-reel tape recorders nesting in the nearby trees. Or maybe it was the big bull vacuum cleaner lazily dangling its hose in a distant water hole. Either way, Benny realised he'd finally stumbled across Cooker Island. His delight abruptly dissolved when a coffee percolator ambled up to him, piddled a hot stream of espresso into his face, bit him on the nose and ran off.

This was to be the first of many hostile encounters, all of which provided a painful lesson that paradise often isn't all it's cracked up to be. Over the next two days Benny received numerous bites from electric razors, was head butted by a dishwasher, badly burned by an electric grill that had lain hidden in a clump of bubble wrap bushes, and was dive-bombed by a swarm of heated rollers.

By the time he was finally rescued by a passing fishing boat, Benny was a gibbering wreck, and his story was considered by all who heard it to be nothing more than the ranting nonsense of a dribbling fool. Even to this day, Benny Callan is apt to start foaming at the mouth at the merest mention of a spin dryer, and the sight of a steam iron can send him spiralling into a frenzy of convulsions. He nevertheless enjoys a successful career as an investment banker.

Cooker Island

Splitting the Crotchet...

2009-10-25T16:40:00.002Z

When this article was written in 2005, the idea of harnessing the lethal power of jazz was a new and terrifying concept. Since then it has emerged that many Western nations have experimented with jazz weaponry, with frightening results. It has recently been revealed that the French government exposed its service personnel to harmful jazz rays during jazz tests carried out in the South Pacific during the fifties. Alain Deneuve is the lawyer who has been fighting for compensation for the victims, but he admits that it hasn't been easy.

"It can be difficult to persuade those affected that legal action is in their best interests," he admits. "When you explain the situation to them, they tend to just shrug, mutter c'est la vie and wander off to buy a baguette. This laissez-faire attitude is fairly typical of people affected by jazz, and you might think that it strengthens our case. Unfortunately, it's also fairly typical of being French."

Jazz Bomb

Vegetable Avionics

2009-10-25T00:29:00.003+01:00

Few people have ever seriously considered the true military potential of the common or garden carrot. It takes an unusually vivid imagination to look upon what most people would consider to be merely a harmless vegetable, and see it as a weapon of war. Admittedly, if it was a particularly pointy specimen, you might observe that you could have someone's eye out, but other than that its offensive capabilities are not readily apparent. Nevertheless, as Garth Poke explains in this 2005 article, military leaders did fritter away extraordinary quantities of your cash in a fruitless attempt to develop a vegetable weapon...

Teaching Carrots to Fly

Deadly Ball Games and Other Pursuits...

2009-10-22T23:06:00.003+01:00

"There's no doubt that bare-knuckle snooker is gaining in influence, especially amongst impressionable youngsters. In inner city areas, it already accounts for ten percent of violent crimes, and by this time next year it could rank alongside all-in darts, unarmed scuba diving and kamikaze table tennis as one of the biggest threats to law and order since badminton."

Four more from 2000 for Archive 1:

Death by Pastry

Dougal Fridgely

Gerald de Scooter's Restaurant Guide

& Bare-knuckle Snooker

Squirrels, Sharks and Exotic Cheeses...

2009-10-20T23:53:00.003+01:00

Added four articles which originally kicked off the site in 2000, and kind of set the tone. In fact, at least two pre-date the site - one previously appearing in Deadpan, the other being the only bit worth saving from a script that was quite rightly passed over by BBC Radio. We live and learn.

Flying Squirrels
Shark Fishing
Cheese Genome
&
Know Your Birds

Half the fat of normal chimps...

2009-10-04T00:23:00.002+01:00

Added to Archive 1:
Oven Chimps
Mountain Rescue
&
Rob Hammond's Essential Guide to Buddhism

2009-09-22T12:38:00.002+01:00

Four more articles from 2003 added to Archive 1:

Christopher Columbus Discoveries Inc
Motorcycle Display Teams
Art
Global Moistening

Recalled to Life

2009-09-08T12:43:00.000+01:00

Between 2000 and 2006, or somewhere thereabouts, The University of the Bleeding Obvious regularly launched its random assortment of 'strange stories told with a straight face' into cyberspace. Each month it would deliver a mix of comic articles, spoof adverts and sundry entertainments to a loyal band of followers. Since regular updates stopped, the University has maintained a slim archive, comprising a fraction of its output, but has otherwise gathered dust.

Earlier this year I decided it was time to clear out the cobwebs, instigating a brand new design and restoring some of the stuff that had previously lain dormant. Because of the sheer volume of the material, I felt it appropriate to divide the site into a number of sections. This will make it easier to add new sections in future - which is the intention, since further articles await inclusion.

The purpose of this blog thingy, therefore, is to inform you of new additions to the site, and to provide an impetus for me to actually get the job done. My most immediate task is to expand the existing two archives. Following that will be a revamp for the Dr Bongo section, and a new and possibly interactive section showcasing the University's erstwhile inventor-in-residence, Jez Moonbeam. It has been my intention to include some new material, but... this is another story.

In the meantime, your comments, criticisms, questions, abuse and silliness are welcome.