The promenade is a Victorian invention designed largely for all that is hideous and malformed about the human race to parade itself in full uncompromising view (it also serves as a handy repository for dog poo, so do take care as you gawp at the collection of freaks on display not to find yourself stepping in a Douglas Hurd). However, the main function of the promenade is to act as a sort of powerful attractor of the elderly. The elderly are drawn to sea-side environs like teenage girls round Edward Cullen. It is here, on the promenade, that it suddenly struck your author that in the affinity between promenades and the elderly lies a secret.

Have you ever noticed the sheer number of commemorative benches along promenades? There they sit, unassuming, bearing such legends as ‘In Memory of Albert Bickerstaff (1932-2009)’. Ostensibly commemorating a loved one in this way implies that, in their memory, other members of the public can take a well-earned sit down and admire the view that Mr Albert Bickerstaff used to come and admire along with his tartan-print thermos of tea and tin-foil-wrapped egg sandwiches. Ah, look at that sun setting over the coast, and can’t you almost smell those eggs (that, in fact, may just be sewage leaking into the sea, but use your imagination, for old Mr Bickerstaff’s sake). But no. For you see, the elderly have a dark secret. Once they have been on the promenade for an entire day – taking up at least two spaces with their Austin Metro – they metamorphose into benches. No shit. There’s enough of that on the promenade already (come to the promenade, for benches and shit. Sit and shit, if you will).

Yes, the elderly spend so much time upon the promenade, and such is their attraction towards it, that they metamorphose into benches. After some time, they will evolve a commemorative plaque marking their former identity. At the promenade you must take the utmost care not to stand in any one spot for too long, lest you should also turn into a wooden public seat – such is the powerful resonance of the spell at work.

The ramifications of this discovery go beyond the promenade. Now we see how pointless are those signs that, on public transport, exhort us, as tired or rain-sodden or hungover as we may be, to give up our seats to the elderly. The elderly need only summon the power to transform themselves at will into a bench, or arm-chair, or wicker-work patio furniture, and rather than demanding a seat they would provide still more accommodation. Selfish bastards.

And so, go about your day taking up seats on public transport with impunity.  Of course, if you see pregnant or physically impaired individual, do give up your seat immediately. But other than that, spread yourself across as many seats as possible. It is your civic duty.

This phenomenon is Bieberbombing.

Across the Internet, videos that appear to contain footage of cats flushing toilets, phallic vegetables, Gears of War 3, and feats including hand-farting the Imperial March from Star Wars are being redirected to the image of the bay-window-toothed gender freak Justin Bieber, or to the aural torture that is Bieber’s rapping in the key of ‘chipmunk having a poo’.

“It was well out of order”, reported London cab-driver Arthur Shoehorn (54). “I was settled down for an evening with the missis when we thought we’d have a gander at last night’s Big Brother, ‘cos we’d only seen it last night. I click on the link thing, and there’s this Justin Bieber, lovely girl I’m sure, but the missis has been struck mutt and Jeff ever since, an’ I can’t see to tie me shoelaces straight of a morning.”

“I was deeply, deeply traumatised”, said college lecturer Kirsty (not her real name). “I had intended to look up footage of Sir Laurence Olivier in Richard III when…when….this thing appeared on the screen…I screamed…I just screamed and screamed until my tonsils fell out and my teeth shattered…sadly I couldn’t afford new teeth on the NHS so I used Scrabble tiles instead”, Kirsty added, smiling and displaying ‘braciola’ for a score of 12.

Other internet users reported similar ill effects. One man from Southport turned entirely into stone, much to the chagrin of his family. His last words were “sounds like a chipmunk having a poo”, adding to the embarrassing nature of his demise.

Bieberbombing claims another victim

In response to this crisis the government is launching a campaign entitled ‘Click with Caution’, partly to advise the public on safety and mostly because alliterative titles for campaigns mean the government doesn’t actually have to do anything besides sit back and look smugly at the pleasing repetition of consonants they have wrought. The campaign advises that if you must click on a video link, take the necessary precautions: encase yourself in a radiation suit within a block of concrete 20 metres in depth, and 500 miles beneath the ocean. Of course, you’ll probably die anyway, and when you reach the Pearly Gates, Bieber will be there.

If you have been affected by any of the issues discussed in this report, please feel free to ring the helpline on 000-000-0001. Or shoot yourself.

Whilst you are there, peruse some of the AR’s fine offerings.

We will first of all examine the basic principles of the language, before moving on to some simple but useful phrases that will enable you to converse with confidence and ease in a number of everyday locations and situations, including In the Post-Office, Down the Pub, and At the PC in the Library Whilst Talking Loudly on Your Mobile Phone.

Since much of today’s communication is conducted through such channels as e-mail, instant messaging and text, this guide is not limited to verbal exchanges. In fact, to use Teenspeak like a native, it’s best to avoid any form of verbal communication wherever possible, even if you’re in the same room as your intended audience.

1. High Rising Intonation

High Rising Intonation, or HRI, is the essence of Teenspeak. You must master this skill before moving on to other sections of this Guide. The effect of HRI is such that every statement sounds like a question, with the voice rising on the last syllable. It is important to confine this to the last syllable. The rest of the statement must be relatively flat in tone, and only at the very end of the utterance must it suddenly take off like a demented seagull. Note that appending ‘Yeah?’ to the end of your sentence is acceptable, but it is not HRI per se. No matter which word your sentence terminates in, it must be the aural equivalent of Roger Moore’s quizzically-raised eyebrow. The general effect is to create a sense of uncertainty, nausea and vertigo in the mind of your audience.

2. ‘Random’

Back in the days when people knew how to use a dictionary and hold a pencil, the word ‘random’ meant ‘made, done, or happening without method or conscious decision’. Now, the power of this word is incomprehensible and almost unlimited. It may be used in one of two ways:

Example A: The adjective

Teen 1: Hey, d’you wanna go to the cinema tonight or what?

Teen 2: Yeah, cool, what’s on?

Teen 1: Just some random film about how people want to save the Earth from destruction.

Note: the word ‘random’ can preface something quite specific and not lose any of its power. I mean, like, WTF??!!?? (see WTF, OMG, LOL).

Example B: The noun

A further instance of the proliferation of the word ‘random’ within Teenspeak is its promotion from an adjective to a noun. As in, ‘I went into the MacDonalds and this random just starts telling me his whole life story’. The use of the word ‘random’ in this way is intended to suggest that the speaker’s life is so full of crazy shit happenings that they can’t leave their doorstep without disturbing the very fabric of time and space.

Other useful phrases might include: ‘I like really random stuff’ and ‘OMG that’s like, totally random’.

3. WTF, OMG, LOL

Again, these are words with mystical power. Originally they were abbreviated versions of the phrases Oh My God, What The F*ck and Laugh Out Loud, but these meanings are quickly becoming lost in the mists of time. At present, only OMG can be used in verbal communication, where it must be said as slowly and emphatically as possible. For example: ‘O…..M…..G! Did you see Big Brother last night, it was, like, totally random?’ However, it is only a matter of time before the same holds true of WTF and LOL.

LOL (or lol) is also an exception, in that it can be used in a number of ways.

Example A: To indicate laughter, even when laughter has already been indicated.

‘Hahahahahaha lol!!!!!!!!’

In Example B, LOL multiplies itself in a process that we shall call bacterial hilarity.

‘Hahahaha lololol!!!!111!!1

It is not certain whether the implication is ‘laugh out loud out loud out loud’, or ‘laugh out laugh out laugh out loud’. Either way, it’s the drivellings of a moron.

OMG, WTF and LOL can be combined in any way that takes your fancy: the more, the merrier. Remember to decorate your sentences with as many question marks and exclamation marks as possible.

For example: ‘OMG WTF???!?!?!?! Lolol’.

4. Spell everything phonetically

Only losers can spell, right? And what’s the point of spelling, lol. Everiwun nos wot u meen, dont thei? Eevn if I rite leik this, an mix teh lettrs up, an evn miss out sum ov teh lettrs, u can stil reed it, an I dunno how to spel anywai hahahaha lol.

Make sure that you replace the letter ‘s’ with ‘z’ wherever possible. If the word ends in ‘ay’, replace this with ‘ai’, or even better, ‘aii’. If there are vowels in your name, double them. It looks cool and like, mysterious (misteerius). So aniwaii what I meen to saii is that the moar yuu add too ur wordz liek then the bettr it is innit?

In Part 2 of Pariah Rustbucket’s Guide to Teenspeak, we will see how to put these basic principles into action.

1. Gift Ideas

Stuck for original gift ideas? Here’s an idea: don’t buy any. Better still, keep all of the Christmas presents you received the previous year unopened and unused. When Christmas comes round again, as it tends to do on an annual basis, re-wrap all of the gifts and return them to whoever bought you the items in the first place. Trust me: it’ll be the last thing they’ll expect. The look of surprise on their faces will be priceless – and after all, isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

2. Christmas Dinner

Now, a lot of time and effort can be put into Christmas dinner. It is at the heart of the day, taking hours to prepare and minutes to consume. Why bother, when those valuable hours could otherwise be spent arguing and watching ‘Celebrity Strictly Come X-Factor Dancing Through the Keyhole in the Jungle with Derek Acorah and Big Brother’? Instead, save yourself time and energy by following the Rustbucket Christmas Menu.

Now, the  key components of any Christmas Dinner are meat, potatoes, vegetables, and a boozy pudding. So, you will need:

The aforementioned 20 packets of Hula Hoops and Peperami

An Oxo Vegetable Stock Cube

Some raisins

A match

Whisky

For the Christmas Dinner: Firstly, place the Hula Hoops on a plate, carefully arranging them in a concentric circle from the inside to the circumference. Then, smash them with your fist. Open the Peperami and discard the plastic wrapping (or, alternatively, you can use this later to make fashionable stockings for your daughter’s/niece’s/younger sister’s Bratz doll). Put the Peperami on top of the smashed Hula Hoops. Crumble the Oxo stock cube over the top. Add hot (not boiling) water. Serve.

Optional Extra: Take a swig of the whisky.

For the Dessert: For a simple but highly effective dessert, and an excellent centrepiece for the table, heap the raisins on a plate (they don’t have to be perfectly arranged; a haphazard arrangement adds to the charm of this pudding). Douse them in the whisky, then set light to them. Sure, you’ll have no eyebrows left, but it’ll add the perfect finishing touch to any meal.

3. Christmas Crackers

What Christmas would be complete without Christmas crackers? Now, these are the paper-and-cardboard things that go ‘bang!’, not the things that you eat. True, some crackers may taste a little like cardboard, but if they go ‘bang!’, you’re in trouble. It’s a universal rule that Christmas crackers must always contain the following gifts: a plastic moustache; a small plastic magnifying glass through which you can’t actually see anything at all, never mind magnified; a metal puzzle that no-one can solve, and may in fact just be a mistake that they threw in anyway; a plastic ring; basically, small and useless pieces of plastic. These are accompanied by a paper hat that YOU MUST WEAR, and a side-splitting joke along the lines of:

Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?

A. Because there were maintenance works on the pavement and being practically-minded he didn’t want to fall into them, though if he’d fallen into them he probably would have sued the local Council for negligence, even though the works were clearly signposted and he would really have had to go out of his way to manage to fall into them, but then this joke would have gone on for a bit longer than it would otherwise have done and there is only limited space on this piece of paper, and as it happened everything was okay and the Chicken went on to have a nice day and got home to wherever it is that Chickens call home and had some seed cake for tea.

4. Christmas Entertainment

You have a house full of guests, but how do you keep them all entertained, from the youngest to the oldest? The answer: bugger them. They came round to your house, you prepared the Christmas Dinner (see # 2 above), displayed unparalleled generosity in returning their own presents to them (see #1 above): they should entertain you. The best way to achieve this is to throw them all outside into the garden (if you don’t have a garden, the street will do) and watch them shiver wretchedly outside whilst you scoff the remainder of the After Eights.

Merry Christmas!

Pariah Rustbucket.

Subject: Malfunctioning Photocopier

Dear Sir,

A few days ago, I had occasion to do some photocopying. I should point out that this was for my place of work, as I rarely approach a photocopier for leisure. There are people who will approach a photocopier for leisure, but these people are generally drunk, and imagine that Xeroxing their buttocks is Just the Thing.

Buttocks aside, I entered my passcode into the machine, loaded the original document, selected the number of copies (100, 000, 000 – it was just some light copying; nothing for the environmentalists to complain about) and awaited the appearance of my freshly-duplicated tree-fodder. All went smoothly, for about five seconds. At this point, I received an error message: ‘Clear jam in Tray 4′. Now, I admit I hadn’t had any breakfast, and the idea of jam was not unappealing. Aside from the fact that the machine had appeared to stop copying my document – and really, you can expect things to break if you’re going to put jam into them – I opened Tray 4 in anticipation of said fruity snack. You can imagine my profound disappointment on discovering that Tray 4 contained nothing but paper.

May I suggest that, in future, you do not mislead your customers in this way? Might I furthermore put forward the proposal that you send the toast-rack attachment that should clearly be a working feature of this machine?

Permit me to still further insinuate that the instructions for clearing the jam, in case of its rightful inclusion, need to be greatly simplified. Having to Open Door B, Turn Knob C, Lift Lever D, Calibrate Spring P, Lift Ratchet J, Crank Handle K, and Augment Cartridge G is the last thing anybody wants on a Monday morning. God knows Mondays are a trial enough without being faced with every letter of the damn alphabet.

Such was my frustration with the machine by this point that I threw it out of Window A, whereupon it smashed to pieces. Therefore I would be grateful if you would send a replacement as soon as possible, with the aforementioned features.

Yours,

P. Rustbucket.

To: Microsoft

Subject: Windows

Dear Sir,

I recently purchased your product online – something of a gamble, as I’ve never heard of your tinpot company before. How you have managed to stay afloat in the world of glazing with a name like that is beyond me. The last thing you want from a window is for it to be tiny and malleable, as your name would imply. In my experience, windows are large and fairly solid structures, in spite of their transparent appearance. But I digress.

It came as something of a surprise when, a few days later, I received a disc through the post. Now, my first thought was that the disc was intended to temporarily cover the gaping hole in my wall where the window should be, until such time as a qualified glazier could call with the necessary tools for the job. However, it was too small, and indeed round, whereas the hole in my wall is fairly square. It also had a hole in the centre, which afforded no protection against the elements.

Having put this and that together, ‘this’ being my brain and ‘that’ being some thoughts, which I can occasionally have, it occurred to me to place the disc into my PC. I’ve seen them do that on the television. Anyhow, I was shortly told that Windows was installing (I would also like to complain about this grammatical error: ‘windows’ is a plural, and so ‘Windows are being installed’ is the correct phrase). ‘At last’, I thought, ‘an end to draughts and having to pretend that I can see through walls’, which I admit, I can’t. Since I am well aware that windows are somewhat bizarrely made of sand, I have also tried filling the gaps with sand, but it just fell out. But, I digress again. It would seem that my reservations about your company were entirely correct, as I am still without the required glass articles.

I await your response, with details of a mutually convenient appointment to fit said windows. May I also suggest that you change your company’s name. It might help.

Yours,

P. Rustbucket.

Bollocks to the dictionary. Procrastination is an art, and moreover, the art of deferring a task whilst apparently still engaged in its completion AND simultaneously justifying the reasons for delaying it in the first place. If you can explain why you’re looking at a website dedicated to humorously-shaped vegetables when you should be dealing with a backlog of e-mails querying the nature of the word ‘product’ in your updated version of the corporate mission statement, then you have raised procrastination to its highest form. However, for those whose levels of procrastination have not yet reached this acme, here are three key points to follow. If you’re looking at this blog, you have made the first step towards embracing the art. Well done.

i) Maintain continuity

There must be some link, however spurious, between your activity of choice and the deferred task. With a little ingenuity, anything is possible. Say, as in our previous example, you are looking at a website dedicated to humorous vegetables when you should be dealing with the backlog of queries relating to the word ‘product’. Firstly, the fact that you had several queries led to the need to clarify the exact dictionary definition of the word. (NOTE: Dictionaries are excellent tools of procrastination. If your supervisor wishes to know why you’re looking up the words ‘bum’, ‘poo’ and ‘shit’, you need only quote the poststructuralist argument that each word in the language is inextricably linked to, and gains meaning from, its surrounding context. So, it can be argued that the words ‘bum’, ‘poo’ and ‘shit’ are in some way related to the word ‘product’, and, in the case of some companies, this is probably true).

NOTE: Notes are excellent tools of procrastination.

You looked up the word ‘product’, which is defined as ‘a saleable or marketable commodity’, or ‘something produced by a natural or artificial process’. Now, this doesn’t really help matters. This is where the humorously-shaped vegetables come in. You can now argue that the humorously-shaped vegetable represents the interface (NOTE: jargon is an excellent tool of procrastination) between the natural and artifical modes of production, and that you were simply looking up illustrations for the next PowerPoint presentation. Your supervisor will praise you for your lateral thinking, leaving you to laugh yourself silly at turnips in the shape of nadgers.

ii) Use jargon

As repellent as it may seem, the kind of verbal diarrhoea favoured by HR managers, leadership training courses and corporate communications is your friend. The art of procrastination would be dead without it. Firing off an e-mail telling your supervisor that you will complete the task by 9am tomorrow morning, and that the file will be on his desk, does not fall into this category. You won’t have the task completed by 9am tomorrow morning, as you’re too busy looking at all those humorous vegetables. But, you need to give every impression that you will do so, whilst also buying time for more valuable procrastination. If you fire off an e-mail containing indecipherable phrases and buzz-words, the chances are that you will be asked to clarify its content (WARNING: there is often a fine line between procrastination and making more work for yourself, so exercise caution).  Use words like ‘configuring’,  ‘calibrating’ and ‘actualise’. Affix ‘ise’ and ‘ment’ to every other word. If you can use both, so much the better. In fact, go the whole nine yards and say ‘configurisement’. All being well, your boss will simply accept that the task is in hand without further questioning.

iii) Drink a lot of coffee

Ostensibly the fuel of the labouring classes, coffee is the beverage of choice for any procrastinator. Not only does it guarantee that you have to make repeated visits to the canteen or coffee shop on the premise that you can’t function without it, what goes in must also come out. This ensures that once you’ve factored in toilet breaks, coffee breaks and the humorous vegetables, your working day amounts to around half an hour. Congratulations.

The death of Abel: the first murder committed. But let us, in the manner of Inspector Morse, or Barnarby, or any of those crime-solving sleuths so beloved of doily-knitting old ladies everywhere, examine the circumstances surrounding his murder. Its contemporary equivalent would undoubtedly be a barbecue, and the argument would arise over a plate of vegetarian kebabs, proving that God likes a charred sausage in a bun as much as anybody. Here is the updated version, annotated for the modern reader.

‘And Abel was a keeper of Birds’ Eye Steakhouse Burgers, but Cain was a vegetarian excuse for a human being. And in the process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of Asda an offering unto the LORD. And Abel, he brought of the meat of the Pig and of the Sausages thereof.  And the LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering: But unto Cain and his offering he had not respect. (1) And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell. (2) … and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.’ (3)

Notes

1. The Lord dissed Cain’s well shit offering.

2. Cain was proper mental, like, he was out of order.

3. Cain kicked Abel’s head in.

From this, we can conclude that the basis of Western religion has been fundamentally wrong, and that the one true deity is the God of Burnt Sausages. The God of Burnt Sausages is a vengeful God. Barbecues are thus an attempt to appease him by presenting him with his likeness. Fellow adherents of the religion must greet each other with the following salutation: ‘It Just Looks Burnt on the Outside’. The vestments of the Church are an apron with a humorously cunning trompe l’oeil through which its male wearer appears to be i) female and ii) wearing a black lace basque, irrespective of the fact that a black lace basque is hardly appropriate apparel around hot fat. Women are not permitted to be ordained.

May the God of Burnt Sausages smile upon your endeavours, and anger him not, lest he smite you with meatballs.

Re.: Your Product

Sir,

During a recent night out with some friends, which was otherwise a pleasant experience, we happened to come across a public house which had installed two of your machines for the entertainment and delight of the clientele. I believe the machines were the ‘Dale Winton’s Grocery Bonanza!’, based loosely on the popular ‘Supermarket Sweep’, and the ‘Penny For Your Thoughts’ pub quiz machine.

I wish to register a number of complaints against these particular products. Firstly, the premise of the ‘Grocery Bonanza!’ machine is fundamentally flawed. In case you had not noticed, the currency of this country is GBP, and not fruit. Nor is it bells. I have never attempted to deposit or indeed withdraw a bell at the local branch of my bank, nor have I ever written a cheque to the sum of fruit. Should my employer pay me in lemons, I would be decidedly surprised, but I find that lemons, generally speaking, cannot be exchanged for goods of any value, not even more lemons.

But all that aside, it was much to my annoyance and frustration that your machine failed to vend either bells or fruit as advertised. In fact, no product of any kind was forthcoming, despite the number of coins that both I and my acquaintances fed into it. The machine simply kept taking our money. This went on for a few hours, until the machine finally decided to cough up £3. Now, this was all very well, but the fact that we had already pumped £20 into the thing leaves us at a loss of £17, which I am unwilling to pay for the privilege of owning three pound coins. Therefore, I demand that your company reimburse the £17, and exchange the three pound coins for the lemon, cherry and kiwi advertised.

Things did not improve with the ‘Penny For Your Thoughts’ pub quiz machine. Again, the premise of this machine is seriously at fault. For some reason, every answer that we gave was wrong, and therefore, myself and my acquaintances were in effect paying to be insulted. Moreover, had the financial loss incurred been simply a penny, this would be slightly less irritating, but again, we were down by £20. I think it is safe to say that my thoughts are not worth £20.

I therefore expect a cheque for £37, and the fruit as aforementioned.

Yours,

P. Rustbucket.

To: The Manager, Drop-Off Sleep Solutions <www.zzz.co.uk>

Re.: Recent purchase of Memory Foam Mattress

Sir,

I recently purchased your ‘Cumfee’ Memory Foam Mattress, and am writing to request a full refund due to my dissatisfaction with said product.

My complaint arises from the fact that, in spite of the advertised facility, the mattress cannot remember a damn thing. Consequently, I have now missed the birthdays of a favourite aunt and my dear old mother, both of whom suffered emotional trauma as a result. It was similarly useless in remembering any of the major Capitals of the World in a recent game of Trivial Pursuit, causing again much distress and humiliation.

I anticipate your reply, and a refund for the cost of the mattress, together with compensation for loss of earnings as a result of the deep depression into which I have sunk since its purchase.

Yours,

P. Rustbucket.