it's _______ friday
30.7.04
It's An Emergency (friday)
Good afternoon.
Earlier this week the Government announced a high alert terrorist warning. All major airports, train stations and bus stops are being monitored for an expected attack (probably with nasty gas, or nuclear… stuff). Important information thing is to, under no circumstances, PANIC. The It’s A Friday team are here to help. Please observe the following advice:
Suicide bombers
The best way to prevent a suicide bomber from blowing their load is to tickle them. They will not be able to press the button to detonate the bomb. This advice comes from an ex-SAS service man in the pub. It will definitely, definitely work.
Gas Attack
Hold your breath for as long as possible. No, really. And stick peas up your nostrils.
Nuclear Attack
This one is common sense. Basically, wear sunglasses as it could get a bit bright and apply liberal amounts sun tan lotion (factor 40 as minimum) to prevent burning (it says so on the bottle).
Shorts! Wear them – it’s going to get quite warm. However, please, please, please take a good jumper as those nuclear winters can get pretty damn chilly.
If you do not have access to a nuclear bunker it is perfectly feasible to convert a bus stop into one using corrugated iron and plastic sheeting. If you are not near a bus stop then enter the nearest public convenience and lock yourself in a cubicle.
Survival Pack
Obviously you’re going to want sufficient supplies to get you through the initial stages of attack so stock up. We recommend the following (per person, based on one week):
The attached photo should give you some idea of what to expect. (It won’t).
i t h a n k y o u
(and good luck!)
Good afternoon.
Earlier this week the Government announced a high alert terrorist warning. All major airports, train stations and bus stops are being monitored for an expected attack (probably with nasty gas, or nuclear… stuff). Important information thing is to, under no circumstances, PANIC. The It’s A Friday team are here to help. Please observe the following advice:
Suicide bombers
The best way to prevent a suicide bomber from blowing their load is to tickle them. They will not be able to press the button to detonate the bomb. This advice comes from an ex-SAS service man in the pub. It will definitely, definitely work.
Gas Attack
Hold your breath for as long as possible. No, really. And stick peas up your nostrils.
Nuclear Attack
This one is common sense. Basically, wear sunglasses as it could get a bit bright and apply liberal amounts sun tan lotion (factor 40 as minimum) to prevent burning (it says so on the bottle).
Shorts! Wear them – it’s going to get quite warm. However, please, please, please take a good jumper as those nuclear winters can get pretty damn chilly.
If you do not have access to a nuclear bunker it is perfectly feasible to convert a bus stop into one using corrugated iron and plastic sheeting. If you are not near a bus stop then enter the nearest public convenience and lock yourself in a cubicle.
Survival Pack
Obviously you’re going to want sufficient supplies to get you through the initial stages of attack so stock up. We recommend the following (per person, based on one week):
- 400 cigarettes. It may be quite stressful after an attack so please ensure that you keep your nerves in order by hording sufficient cigarettes. Whilst we cannot recommend a particular brand, under no circumstances buy Silk Cut Ultra's. They don’t work and taste of moose.
- 100 cans of lager. You may think it better to stock up on water. You are wrong. Water is bad for you. Never trust anything that you can see through (other than your actual eyes). Beer will help relax you and take your mind off your flaking skin. Beer also provides calories so it must be good.
- Details of all the kebab shops in your local vicinity. All kebab shops are permanently open regardless of the time of day, or year - this will remain the case in the advent of nuclear attack.
The attached photo should give you some idea of what to expect. (It won’t).
i t h a n k y o u
(and good luck!)
23.7.04
Freeeeeeeaaaky!
"Tis true my form is something odd,
But blaming me is blaming God;
Could I create myself anew
I would not fail in pleasing you.
If I could reach from pole to pole
Or grasp the ocean with a span,
I would be measured by the soul;
The mind's the standard of the man."
That is a poem much read by John Merrick, aka The Elephant Man.
In many ways he was right. We all believe that we should judge one another by the emotional strength and beauty contained within; ignore the exterior. Does a person make you smile, make you laugh, make you happy? Do they interest and excite you? Have you had nine pints and don’t care either way?
I mean, look at Merrick’s life. He was born at in Leicester on August 5th 1862 to Mary Jane and Joseph Merrick and lived with his mother, younger brother Arthur, and sister Marion. When John’s mother died in 1873 the intrepid John was left with an uncaring father who was thoroughly mean to him. After his father remarried a woman who thought John an embarrassment he had to survive on his own. Despite the torment and disgust shown by the young and old alike, he taught himself read and write and conducted himself with much dignity.
In many ways he was a brilliant man triumphing in the ugly face of adversity. In the end, however, he died at a young age whilst in hospital in 1890. He was one of the few people at the time who was allowed to remain in hospital whilst dying of an incurable disease. Powerful people financed him. He was renowned throughout the United Kingdom. He is a model for us all of how to live life no matter what is thrown at you....
.... Actually he isn't. He was a FREAK! A freakin’ ugly freak-tastic freak! Let's be honest - how many people really liked him rather than just feeling a bit sorry for him? I’ve heard it was 12 people and a couple of dogs.
Anyway, here at It’s A Friday we are celebrating elephantiasis, bearded women, monkey-boys and people with 15 toes. Yes – it’s Freaky Friday! So go out. Find a freak. Point. And laugh. They’re freaks!
Oh, and they smell as well. Seriously they do. Cabbagey.
i t h a n k y o u
PS - There was a mis-understanding with the attached image.
"Tis true my form is something odd,
But blaming me is blaming God;
Could I create myself anew
I would not fail in pleasing you.
If I could reach from pole to pole
Or grasp the ocean with a span,
I would be measured by the soul;
The mind's the standard of the man."
That is a poem much read by John Merrick, aka The Elephant Man.
In many ways he was right. We all believe that we should judge one another by the emotional strength and beauty contained within; ignore the exterior. Does a person make you smile, make you laugh, make you happy? Do they interest and excite you? Have you had nine pints and don’t care either way?
I mean, look at Merrick’s life. He was born at in Leicester on August 5th 1862 to Mary Jane and Joseph Merrick and lived with his mother, younger brother Arthur, and sister Marion. When John’s mother died in 1873 the intrepid John was left with an uncaring father who was thoroughly mean to him. After his father remarried a woman who thought John an embarrassment he had to survive on his own. Despite the torment and disgust shown by the young and old alike, he taught himself read and write and conducted himself with much dignity.
In many ways he was a brilliant man triumphing in the ugly face of adversity. In the end, however, he died at a young age whilst in hospital in 1890. He was one of the few people at the time who was allowed to remain in hospital whilst dying of an incurable disease. Powerful people financed him. He was renowned throughout the United Kingdom. He is a model for us all of how to live life no matter what is thrown at you....
.... Actually he isn't. He was a FREAK! A freakin’ ugly freak-tastic freak! Let's be honest - how many people really liked him rather than just feeling a bit sorry for him? I’ve heard it was 12 people and a couple of dogs.
Anyway, here at It’s A Friday we are celebrating elephantiasis, bearded women, monkey-boys and people with 15 toes. Yes – it’s Freaky Friday! So go out. Find a freak. Point. And laugh. They’re freaks!
Oh, and they smell as well. Seriously they do. Cabbagey.
i t h a n k y o u
PS - There was a mis-understanding with the attached image.
16.7.04
The Cult of the Friday
What a Cult!
Go back. Read that again. No, we didn’t swear (please, please, please let me not have made a typing error). Today is Cult Friday!
Cults are double-brilliant aren't they? Star Trek, The Prisoner, Why Don’t You?, Rent-a-Ghost, Doctor Who.
- Knock, knock.
- Who’s there?
- Doctor…
- Doctor Who!
- No, Doctor Harold Shipman (Ed. - errm, he's not a cult, he's a ...error!)
All of these modern day “cult TV shows” filled our childhood with teaspoons of joy. We can certainly remember, on many an occasion during our collective youths, attaching sink plungers to our faces and pretending to be Daleks. Sometimes we still pretend to be Daleks: imitated their inability to climb stairs (by falling down the ones in the It’s A Friday house) on a regular basis; getting our winkies out and shouting “EXTERMINATE” in the voice of a strangled pensioner. Pubs can cause both of these effects.
Anyway – we digress. Here at It’s A Friday HQ, we're not interested in those sorts of cults. No, we want to explore the other type of cult. You know, like that bloke in America who got loads of people to worship and live in a house with him before petrol bombing the place. That sort of thing is way more interesting. Not that we want petrol bomb you (or ourselves) you understand. We want a “nice” cult: a bit like Catholicism but with less praying, a variety of alcohol (not just bloddy red wine) and carnal stuff.
So here’s what we want you to do:
(1) Create a wicker (wo)man. If you don’t have any wicker you could create a “Cigger Man” out of cigarettes and sellotape. It’s not as rubbish as it sounds.
Okay, it is a rubbish as it sound.
(2) Pray to the God of Beer or Wine. Note – the God of Drambui is a fake idol.
(3) Chant “Cult” at the top of your voice. All day. You may want to practice your annunciation.
(4) During any meetings you may have today sit naked on the floor and hum the theme tune to Postman Pat in a sinister sounding minor key.
Please be aware that, to be fully ordained into the It’s a Friday cult, you must send us a cheque for £500. For this we will provide you with a special It’s A Friday certificate which will guarantee* you entry into Heaven and a warm fuzzy feeling** whilst on earth.
i t h a n k y o u
* Subject to God’s agreement. Terms and conditions apply
** May require alcohol
What a Cult!
Go back. Read that again. No, we didn’t swear (please, please, please let me not have made a typing error). Today is Cult Friday!
Cults are double-brilliant aren't they? Star Trek, The Prisoner, Why Don’t You?, Rent-a-Ghost, Doctor Who.
- Knock, knock.
- Who’s there?
- Doctor…
- Doctor Who!
- No, Doctor Harold Shipman (Ed. - errm, he's not a cult, he's a ...error!)
All of these modern day “cult TV shows” filled our childhood with teaspoons of joy. We can certainly remember, on many an occasion during our collective youths, attaching sink plungers to our faces and pretending to be Daleks. Sometimes we still pretend to be Daleks: imitated their inability to climb stairs (by falling down the ones in the It’s A Friday house) on a regular basis; getting our winkies out and shouting “EXTERMINATE” in the voice of a strangled pensioner. Pubs can cause both of these effects.
Anyway – we digress. Here at It’s A Friday HQ, we're not interested in those sorts of cults. No, we want to explore the other type of cult. You know, like that bloke in America who got loads of people to worship and live in a house with him before petrol bombing the place. That sort of thing is way more interesting. Not that we want petrol bomb you (or ourselves) you understand. We want a “nice” cult: a bit like Catholicism but with less praying, a variety of alcohol (not just bloddy red wine) and carnal stuff.
So here’s what we want you to do:
(1) Create a wicker (wo)man. If you don’t have any wicker you could create a “Cigger Man” out of cigarettes and sellotape. It’s not as rubbish as it sounds.
Okay, it is a rubbish as it sound.
(2) Pray to the God of Beer or Wine. Note – the God of Drambui is a fake idol.
(3) Chant “Cult” at the top of your voice. All day. You may want to practice your annunciation.
(4) During any meetings you may have today sit naked on the floor and hum the theme tune to Postman Pat in a sinister sounding minor key.
Please be aware that, to be fully ordained into the It’s a Friday cult, you must send us a cheque for £500. For this we will provide you with a special It’s A Friday certificate which will guarantee* you entry into Heaven and a warm fuzzy feeling** whilst on earth.
i t h a n k y o u
* Subject to God’s agreement. Terms and conditions apply
** May require alcohol
9.7.04
Fight Friday
Myself and Matt are not speaking (see below).
i t h a n k y o u
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 06 July 2004 15:21
To: Al
Subject: Its _______ Friday
Al,
I was wondering what you reckon this Friday should be. I was thinking of something clever like "B0obs" Friday. I think the potential results could be hilarious.
M...
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 06 July 2004 16:03
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Matt,
Not sure about "B0obs Friday" mate. I was going to suggest something a bit cleverer; something like "Man Friday".
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 06 July 2004 16:06
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
That is rubbish. No-one will laugh at an inherently cack play on the fact that there was once a character called Man Friday. I suppose it will be down to me to write the email again with you adding some "hilarious" comments as an after thought. I think we should stick with "B0obs" Friday. They are great, and I like them.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 07 July 2004 11:51
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
That is such rubbish. You write about half an email, send it over and I have to finish it and make it readable. What have your best Friday email contributions been? A full stop? A badly timed "to me"?
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 07 July 2004 16:50
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
You are a cretinous tw^t with a silly bit of pube growth on your chin. Luckily, no-one knows just how much I despise you otherwise this “Its a Friday” email would never work.
If I wasn't involved in this whole process then I think it would be Lesbi^n Friday every week considering how much you go on about them. Having some sort of ability to write and spell would also improve your contribution as well.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 07 July 2004 17:40
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
What the f^&* would you know about it? You haven't even been here for the last few weeks. I've done it all on my own. Okay, so one Friday was "Forgotten Friday" but Tom said that was the best one ever anyway so take note.
Perhaps you should spend a bit less time moaning about it and a bit more time actually trying to write something interesting and amusing. You arse.
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 09 July 2004 10:57
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
"Blah, blah, blah".......that's what you should write, because nothing else makes any sense. I see that you have been "ill" over the last couple of days. Another slight cough again? Or did you scratch yourself too hard? You're so girly, you may as well grow boobs (actually, on reflection this would be a good idea) and platt your hair. Look, there is only one solution to this, and it involves me tw^tting you. See you outside in five minutes - I'm gonna punch your balls off.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 09 July 2004 12:50
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Oh p^ss off. You're such a big girls charity-shop blouse. You're right however in one tiny respect: there is only one solution, but that solution is you f^&*ing off forever and leaving me to write the Friday email.
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 09 July 2004 13:45
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
I think you should p^ss off and let me write the email. In actual fact I am going to write this week's email and give you a severe kicking as well. I am quite tired and pretty much up for a fight.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: 09 July 2004 13:50
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Right. That's it. You're f$%^king DEAD you g^t. If you're not outside for a scrap in 4 minutes I'm just going to poo on your desk.
Myself and Matt are not speaking (see below).
i t h a n k y o u
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 06 July 2004 15:21
To: Al
Subject: Its _______ Friday
Al,
I was wondering what you reckon this Friday should be. I was thinking of something clever like "B0obs" Friday. I think the potential results could be hilarious.
M...
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 06 July 2004 16:03
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Matt,
Not sure about "B0obs Friday" mate. I was going to suggest something a bit cleverer; something like "Man Friday".
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 06 July 2004 16:06
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
That is rubbish. No-one will laugh at an inherently cack play on the fact that there was once a character called Man Friday. I suppose it will be down to me to write the email again with you adding some "hilarious" comments as an after thought. I think we should stick with "B0obs" Friday. They are great, and I like them.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 07 July 2004 11:51
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
That is such rubbish. You write about half an email, send it over and I have to finish it and make it readable. What have your best Friday email contributions been? A full stop? A badly timed "to me"?
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 07 July 2004 16:50
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
You are a cretinous tw^t with a silly bit of pube growth on your chin. Luckily, no-one knows just how much I despise you otherwise this “Its a Friday” email would never work.
If I wasn't involved in this whole process then I think it would be Lesbi^n Friday every week considering how much you go on about them. Having some sort of ability to write and spell would also improve your contribution as well.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 07 July 2004 17:40
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
What the f^&* would you know about it? You haven't even been here for the last few weeks. I've done it all on my own. Okay, so one Friday was "Forgotten Friday" but Tom said that was the best one ever anyway so take note.
Perhaps you should spend a bit less time moaning about it and a bit more time actually trying to write something interesting and amusing. You arse.
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 09 July 2004 10:57
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
"Blah, blah, blah".......that's what you should write, because nothing else makes any sense. I see that you have been "ill" over the last couple of days. Another slight cough again? Or did you scratch yourself too hard? You're so girly, you may as well grow boobs (actually, on reflection this would be a good idea) and platt your hair. Look, there is only one solution to this, and it involves me tw^tting you. See you outside in five minutes - I'm gonna punch your balls off.
-----Original Message-----
From: Al
Sent: 09 July 2004 12:50
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Oh p^ss off. You're such a big girls charity-shop blouse. You're right however in one tiny respect: there is only one solution, but that solution is you f^&*ing off forever and leaving me to write the Friday email.
-----Original Message-----
From: Matt
Sent: 09 July 2004 13:45
To: Al
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
I think you should p^ss off and let me write the email. In actual fact I am going to write this week's email and give you a severe kicking as well. I am quite tired and pretty much up for a fight.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: 09 July 2004 13:50
To: Matt
Subject: RE: Its _______ Friday
Right. That's it. You're f$%^king DEAD you g^t. If you're not outside for a scrap in 4 minutes I'm just going to poo on your desk.
2.7.04
This might turn out to be a mistake
Hello! Look, it's us. We're back... and it's a Friday!
Appologies for our absence last week. Unfortunately it was necessary for entire It's A Friday team to decamp to Glastonbury for 5 days, living in mud and shouting "Bo11ocks" at 3am to disturb people. Actually, what was slightly disturbing were the incessant "To me, to you" chanting we accidentally started (see the Chuckle Brothers Friday on the website for further explanation).
Anyway, whilst we were at Glastonbury we noticed that the toilets were a bit crappy, both architecturally and literally. Bottom-deposits everywhere. This made it all rather tiresome and unpleasant for us to empty ourselves properly. It sometimes put us off going to the bog at all. It was almost as if There Were No Toilets. (ed. - I think they've got the idea)
So then. You will all be relieved (ha ha) to know that today is No Toilet Friday! Now calm down dear, it's only a Friday email. We know you'll be thinking "Oh error, what a rubbish idea". It isn't. Read on...
From the end of work today (circa 5:30pm) please make your way to the nearest pub. Buy yourself a drink. Have a good sit down. Now, sit there and drink until closing time and avoid going to the toilet for as long as possible. That's all. It really is that simple. The person who lasts the longest without going is Brilliant and will be awarded an exclusive (it isn't) It's A Friday certificate.
Some rules:
1) One drink an hour (prefereably a pint, preferably lager).
2) Both number ones and number twos are included in this game. Having either (or a bum-wee for that matter) will end your attempt.
3) Peeing into a container, or on the road, wall or church does count as going to the toilet
4) P1ssing or pooing your pants is acceptable and does not count as going to the toilet.
All clear? Good.
i t h a n k y o u
Hello! Look, it's us. We're back... and it's a Friday!
Appologies for our absence last week. Unfortunately it was necessary for entire It's A Friday team to decamp to Glastonbury for 5 days, living in mud and shouting "Bo11ocks" at 3am to disturb people. Actually, what was slightly disturbing were the incessant "To me, to you" chanting we accidentally started (see the Chuckle Brothers Friday on the website for further explanation).
Anyway, whilst we were at Glastonbury we noticed that the toilets were a bit crappy, both architecturally and literally. Bottom-deposits everywhere. This made it all rather tiresome and unpleasant for us to empty ourselves properly. It sometimes put us off going to the bog at all. It was almost as if There Were No Toilets. (ed. - I think they've got the idea)
So then. You will all be relieved (ha ha) to know that today is No Toilet Friday! Now calm down dear, it's only a Friday email. We know you'll be thinking "Oh error, what a rubbish idea". It isn't. Read on...
From the end of work today (circa 5:30pm) please make your way to the nearest pub. Buy yourself a drink. Have a good sit down. Now, sit there and drink until closing time and avoid going to the toilet for as long as possible. That's all. It really is that simple. The person who lasts the longest without going is Brilliant and will be awarded an exclusive (it isn't) It's A Friday certificate.
Some rules:
1) One drink an hour (prefereably a pint, preferably lager).
2) Both number ones and number twos are included in this game. Having either (or a bum-wee for that matter) will end your attempt.
3) Peeing into a container, or on the road, wall or church does count as going to the toilet
4) P1ssing or pooing your pants is acceptable and does not count as going to the toilet.
All clear? Good.
i t h a n k y o u
