A page of content from The I make web-pages when there’s nothing on TV site.

Obviously it’s a load of absolute tripe, with no redeeming features.

I am under no delusions as to the quality of this content. My delusions didn’t kick in until at least 2004, when I got my first dot com domain, NewsBurp. It was my first ever attempt at humour content of any kind. It led to more online writings and to Matchstick Cats starting in 2004 and Into Your Head podcast in 2006. Both of which are my pasttimes here in 2025. So there’s that.

Anyway here, amalgamated for the first time onto one handy page, is the content from The I Make Web Pages when there’s Nothing on TV site:

Welcome

You know the song that goes “You’re so vain, You probably think this song is about you”? That’s about me.

Urination

There’s a lot of fuss made about the apparent need to test athletes’ urine at unannounced times, to ensure that they are not using performance-enhancing substances. I have given a lot of thought to this and my advice to athletes would be this: Stop drinking urine.

The Egg, Obviously

Allow me to supply the answer to the frequently asked question “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”. It’s always seemed perfectly clear to me that the egg came first. It was layed by a creature which was one generation away from evolving into a chicken. I hope that clears it up, once and for all.

No Breakfast

Do you know the film (and song) “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”? I haven’t seen the film myself, but apparently you can’t get breakfast at Tiffany’s.Because there’s no restauraunt there. Presumably just a load of disappointed tourists hanging around outside, wishing they had gone to Dunkin Donuts (did I spell that right? I don’t think they call it “doughnuts”)

And while I’m on the subject, my favourite cereal is toast. (What? Wheat is cereal isn’t it?)

Which reminds me. I wish shop assistants would do me the courtesty of handing me my change instead of placing it on the counter, now that leperacy is no longer as common as it used to be.

Generic Weblog

There’s a new trend among web-people to keep a “blog” – an online diary, for strangers to read on the internet. I can appreciate that. We all want to know what a person we’ve never met on the other side of the world had for breakfast. I had Frosties (known in some countries as Frosted Flakes – must allow for cultural differences).

Unfortunately, a weblog, by definition, must contain an entry that says “9.30pm: spent two hours writing this”. If it doesn’t it is not accurate and cannot be trusted.

Anyway here is a generic description of what I did today:

My Generic Weblog – Today’s Entry
Mon/Tue/Wed/Thurs/Fri (delete as appropiate):	Looked at clock, swore, went to toilet, dressed, went to work, worked, came home, ate, wrote this, went to bed.
Sat/Sun	Looked at clock, went back to sleep, looked at clock, went back to sleep, got up, did stuff / did nothing, wrote this, went to bed
Public Holiday	Looked at calender, went back to sleep*, etc.

*except Christmas day – got up and ate sweets for breakfast

Deleted

There used to be a paragraph about the weather here, but it was poor, even my my standards, so it’s gone. I can’t say I’m thrilled with this bit, either. And now, three weeks later, I notice that I even mispelled “weather”. That’s depressingn

Antidisestablishmentarianism 

An English teacher in school circa 1989, asked the class to suggest the longest words we knew. I offered “antidisestablishmentarianism”, rather proudly. He said this word didn’t exist. I’m still bitter to this day. The best that the rest of the greasy-haired little scumbags could come up with was “cat”, if I recall correctly (albeit selectively).

Not the Ninth Caller

I used to have a phone number that was two digits out from the number of the local radio station. What fun! One night a woman rang up and said “Hello, is that the radio?”.”No”, I said. “This is the telephone”.

Then another time some guy rings in the middle of the night, and I bite the head off him* for waking me up. He acts all surprised and says there’s no need to be so unfriendly. I point out that it’s 2AM. Sorry if you’re expecting a punchline here – I just need to get this off my chest.

*A local coloquialism meaning call him a complete b*&*$£

Anyway, where I live you can send text messages from your cellphone to the DJ on the radio. So one morning, just before a newsreader called “Hanley” came on, I sent the text “10 minutes to curtain, Mr. Hanley. Thanks Scooter.”. The DJ and the sports guy seemed to think it was hilarious, and as a result I now own a cheap plastic “Holy Moly” mug.As per the photo on the right. And that’s how I pass the time on the bus.The reason I mention all this is: I’ve e-mailed the DJ, telling him about this bit on the web-page, and suggesting he should provide a link to this site. I don’t think it’s going to work.

This is a MUGSHOT. Ha Ha Ha. The other side says “holy moly”.

So-called Bad Manners

I need to discuss the issue of so-called “manners”. Why is it that if you put your elbows on the table, you are automatically labelled “bad-mannered”. The thinking man knows that the only situation where this is rude, is where you’re seated at a long table, with a person on your left, and a person on your right, who may want to talk to each other without your elbows blocking their sight…
…In which case, surely, THEY are being rude by ignoring YOU.

And while I mention it, what’s wrong with wearing my headphones on the bus? They’re not loud (it’s just the news), and anyway I’m just trying to drown out the sounds of peoples sniffing and snorting, which apparantly are acceptable.

Why does the person sitting in front of me need to clear his throat every thirty seconds? He’s sitting on his own, so it’s not as if he needs his voice to be in perfect working order so he can make a speach to the person beside him.

Helping Others

I didn’t come up with the following proverb, but I wish I had:

“A friend in need, is a pain in the arse”

Light Rain

I would like to add my voice to all those of whoever has already said this: I object strongly to drizzle. I go out on a cloudy day in October; everything seems fine until a couple of drops of water start landing every few seconds. The problem is this: If I put up my umbrella, I will look like an idiot – it’s not raining. If I don’t put it up, I will slowly get soaked. Ditto snow. It feels dry until it melts on your head. Then your’re bandjaxed.

Have you noticed how many people mispronounce the word pronunciation? They say pro-nown-ciation. The buffoons. These people are going to cause the downfall of society.

Wildlife Shows on TV

Why are presenters on Nature shows always either too loud or too quiet.

First you have that guy David Attenborough. He goes within a few feet of a big lion, then starts whispering into the camera. Is he afraid he’ll scare the animal or something? Meanwhile the other lions are looking up a recipe book. The only reason they don’t eat him is they’re not expecting him and don’t have a suitable wine.

Then there’s that Australian guy. Enough said.

Dogs

Arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf

No don’t leave. It’s just a simulation. Not a real dog. If this was a real dog there would now be dog-saliva on your hand, and you would be expected to smile at the owner as if you’re enjoying it.

I’ve produced a complex theses to explain why dogs make that loud noise with their mouths. Here is a summary: They’re all bastards.

Fingernails

But what really annoys me is something that started four or five years ago, and is spreading around the word like an e-mail virus. Saying the word “is” twice in a row, for no reason. For example, “The thing is, is it’s very hard to stop talking in this irritating fashion”
Why don’t you people just scrape your fingernails on a blackboard, or something?

Fake Mice

And why are there so many mice in cartoons? Are we meant to think they’re cute? Surely cartoons are meant to be a brighter, more fantastic version of the world, so that we can escape from for a while. Call me old-fashioned, but I think mice are scum. And you can quote me on that. So long as you don’t say who I am, or what I said.

Directions?

I seem to have a problem with people who stop me in the street for directions, and then start driving away before I’m finished, shouting “okay thanks” as they disappear in the wrong direction, dying to get away from me. Is that just me? Are my directions particularly uninteresting or upsetting, or is it just that they get confused and forget all about it. If that’s the case I think I see why they are lost in the first place.It’s not my fault they’re in the wrong place. Don’t shoot the messenger. In some jobs I could reasonably expect a tip for being as helpful as that.

Primal Termite

Since you seem to be still here, do you happen to know who wrote these lines or where they might have come from?:

“A primal termite knocked on wood
He tasted it and found it good
And that is why your auntie May
Fell through the parlour floor today”.

Someone I knew used to recite it. My uneducated guess would be Spike Milligan or Dr.Suess wrote it. or possibly the Irish poet Pat Ingoldsby, who you’ve almost definitely never heard of because everyone on the internet is in America.

Here are some more favourite lines. This is from Ian Dury and the Blockheads’ “This is What we Find”

“This is what we find
This is what we find
The hope that springs eternal
Springs right up your behind”

Standards

I was watching a television programme today and the guy being interviewed said “I think anyone with an IQ of less that eighty per-cent of the average, should savagely be beaten until they learn to be less lazy“.
Personally, I believe that this is absolutely disgraceful and disgusting. Anyone who speaks on TV as a spokesman for a cause should be capable of getting through a sentence without using a split infinitive.

But I digress

Here are some more favourite lines. This is from Ian Dury and the Blockheads’ “This is What we Find”

“This is what we find
This is what we find
The hope that springs eternal
Springs right up your behind”

By the way, if this site looks unprofessional it’s because the copy of Dreamweaver I ordered ten days ago hasn’t arrived yet, and I’m writing the code all by myself. If it does look professional, it means it has arrived, and I’ve just forgotten to remove this paragraph. Which in itself is unprofessional.

I was about to put an e-mail address here, then I realised you’re a stranger and I don’t trust you, especially now you’ve read through all of this ^gobledegook without leaving – I’m not a psychiatrist, but there’s obviously something very wrong there.

There are plusses and minuses to waking up with Frank Zappa’s “Evelyn, a Modified Dog” as an earworm, as I’m sure you’ve found, but at least it provides us with an opportunity to subtly indicate to the online community what sophisticated and eclectic tastes we have.

There used to be a British woman in the (nineteen) nineties (I am not saying she was nineteen, although it cannot be ruled out without over-researching for what is meant to be a mildly amusing social media post, not a PhD dissertation. It’s bad enough that I keep spotting annd having to fiix new tpyos on every read-through) who reported having suddenly acquired a foreign accent after a brain injury. But even something like that, (and especially *that* itself (not the word “that”, the concept of people acquiring a foreign accent after a brain injury (The following two closing-brackets are not a typo and are entirely neccessary and appropriate. In fact we’re going to need a third one now to accommodate these (admittedly extravagant) words of explanation))) would not account for a whole country switching languages at least twelve hours before, and possibly (as far can be ascertained without once again adopting the methodology of a PhD candidate) anything up to 13.8 billion years before the start of the nuclear emergency.

We can only assume it was some sort of conspiracy involving either (a) the people of Soviet era Ukraine, or (b) scriptwriters at the tiny startup production company in either Scotland or Northern England (I can’t remember which and have too much respect for the reader for me to just “Google” it and then dishonestly pretend to be an authority on the matter) who created the series for HBO and Sky. If the conspiracy involves (a) above, it’s reasonable to assume that a sequel will be made about it, given the enormous success of the first series. This is less likely if (b) is the perp (perpetrator), as it might involve self-incrimination, or allegations of self-incrimination.

I assume self-incrimination is also a serious crime as it can cost your investors zillions in avoidable litigation, especially if you screw up even further by somehow managing to lose the case despite being innocent of the thing in which you managed to incriminate yourself, which is quite a talent, if you ask me, since I assume that when you sell-incriminate you are expected to testify for both the prosecution and the defence.

Not that I’m an authority on either Scottish or Soviet or Northern English law. Although I did once successfully demand a refund from the aforementioned Sky by conveying that I know a fair bit about the civil law tort of Misrepresentation. Which I did at the time, so don’t imagine you’ve caught me up in an admission of misrepresentation. F’ing smartass. 

First posted on Facebook, October 2019