Rebrand Of The Week

Fortunately, I am of a shape and size that means I don’t have to worry about weight. A good job, too, as there are a bewildering range of diets on offer. Which to choose?

I have always thought Weight Watchers was a rather odd name for a diet company, conjuring up an image of someone sitting on a sofa stuffing their face and watching the avoirdupois pile on. Perhaps I have got it wrong but even the company seem now to have had second thoughts about the name.

In an attempt to get hip (remember those?) and trendy, they have abandoned worrying about weight, like many of their frustrated dieters, and slimmed down to just WW.

At last, a diet that has worked overnight!

It is sobering to think that those who enjoyed the dubious delights of Club 18 – 30 in its prime are now old enough to sign up to be Saga louts on  package holidays retailed to the over-50s.

Perhaps it should come as no surprise then that having failed to find a buyer for what was once marketed as offering sun, sea and sex, Thomas Cook have decided that it no longer fits with its new, responsible image and closed the operation down.

Still, it is good to see that the spirit of 18 – 30 still lives on.


Gadget Of The Week

I’m a fool.

All these years I have pointed Percy at the porcelain, emptied my bladder and flushed the chain, not realising that there is a booming secondary market for pure, unadulterated urine.

With the growing adoption of drug testing by employers here in Blighty, some workers are looking to beat the system. And where there is a need, there is always someone around to satisfy it.

The market leader seems to be The Quick Fix Piss Perfect Synthetic Urine Delivery System, yours for just £106. It comes with a prosthetic fake penis in a variety of colours to match skin pigmentation together with temperature pads, hand warmers and a harness. I assume there are some instructions with it.

If that all seems a bit over the top, you could just visit (great name) who stock a range of frozen and dehydrated urine. Indeed, they boast that their testing processes are so rigid that they have never had a positive test from any sample of urine they have supplied.

Others have taken a more direct approach by contacting a good clean-living neighbour and buying a quantity of their urine off them, bottled, of course. If times get desperate and with the state of my prostate, I could have found a welcome supplement to my income.

Of course, you could just go straight for a while but with all these options now available, what would be the point?

Editor’s note – Frimleyblogger wishes to point out that he does not condone any actions that would endanger the health and safety of the general public or fellow workers.

We Call Upon The Author To Explain (3)

Well, that was an interesting morning.

I’m pretty impressed with my new publisher. Thanks to the sterling efforts of Troubador’s Marketing Controller, Emily Castledine, she is managing to drum up some media interest for my new book, Fifty Scams and Hoaxes.

Following a Press Release, the Daily Mail and the Big Issue Ireland have asked for review copies. I must remember not to say “Bless you” when I pass one of the Issue sellers in future. But the piece de resistance, to date, was a request from BBC Surrey to attend their studios in Guildford for an interview to be featured on a forthcoming edition of their Breakfast Show.

After a nanosecond’s deliberation I agreed and arrangements were set for me to turn up at in good time this morning for a 10.15 pre-recorded interview. No stretch limo for me – I got there through a combination of the ever-reliable Shanks’s pony and the not so trustworthy South Western Railways.

I was parked in the green room – now, there’s a curious question; why is it so called? Oops, wrong book! – or what passed for it. It was actually a couple of red sofas in the corner of the general office which looked a bit like an aircraft hangar.

I was given a cup of coffee whilst my interviewer, co-host of the Breakfast show, Lesley McCabe, read the ten o’clock news. This gave me time to compose myself and to re-read the helpful interview preparation notes available on Troubador’s website.

It is too easy to over psych yourself up on occasions like these. It was time for a few deep breaths and to remember a piece of sage advice given to me many moons ago by a boss, that I would know far more about my chosen subject than anyone else present so what was there to worry about? And if you don’t know why you wrote the book and what it is about, perhaps you shouldn’t be addressing the great British public.

World and local affairs safely put to bed, Ms McCabe came out, greeted me and ushered me into a room. Her friendly style quickly put me at ease and after a sound level check, the tapes, or whatever their digital equivalents are, started rolling. Surprisingly, I was very comfortable behind the microphone and all my anxieties and fears of the previous twenty-four hours disappeared as I talked about the virtues of my book. It was all wrapped up in one take. The interview file was saved and that was it. Job done!

Of course, the proof of the interview is in the hearing but it didn’t feel like a car crash, Diane Abbott stylee.

I will post details of the interview if/when it sees the light of day. And on the way out I received news that TalkRADIO had booked me for next Tuesday afternoon, live this time.

Who said video killed the radio star?

For more details about Fifty Scams and Hoaxes by Martin Fone, visit or

Social Medium Of The Week

What is it with Facebook?

They are happy to pass on our personal data to third parties and to allow hackers to plunder our information with ease but they seem to have been imbued with the spirit of Thomas Bowdler.

My new book, out on 28th October, is called Fifty Scams and Hoaxes and I thought it would be a good idea to set up a Facebook page to publicise it but the algorithm that controls page titles took exception to it. It must have been the conjunction. So I had to resort to a name that is so obscure no one will ever find it.

Still, my problems are nothing compared with an aspiring Belgian politician who is standing for election to the council in the district of Lobbes. As is the modern way he wanted a social media presence to publicise his campaign but Facebook took exception to his name, deeming it offensive and inappropriate.

A bit of a bummer, you will agree, for Luc Anus, for it is he, who has been forced to drop the s to get his page, despite being one of 49 Anuses in Belgium.

I hope he gets elected so he can join the illustrious roll of politicians with amusing names like the former mayor of Nashville, Bill Boner, the Dutch senator, Tiny Kox, and the erstwhile Liberal peer, Lady Garden.

Talking of Lady Garden, it was my birthday last Sunday and I don’t know whether I was disappointed or not, but none of my relatives or friends felt fit to celebrate this momentous occasion with a card bearing a picture of their genitalia.

But according to Moonpig, one of these online card jobbies, there is a trend, particularly around Valentine’s Day, of people with a particularly warped sense of humour and an inferiority complex, downloading pictures of their todgers and vaginas for insertion on to greetings cards. In desperation, they have had to resort to social media to remind punters that such images are against their terms and conditions.

I wonder what they do with the pics?

It’s a strange world that we live in.

Slap Of The Week

I suppose if you suffer an unfortunate accident, it must be comforting to know that science has benefited from your ordeal.

Kyle Mulinder was minding his own business paddling around the waters off Kaikoura on the South Island of New Zealand. His contemplation of the beauty and peace of his surroundings was rudely interrupted when a seal rose out of the water and slapped poor Kyle around the face with an octopus that it had in its mouth.

Scientists from the National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research reckon that the seal mistook the kayaker for a rock. It has confirmed their suspicions, though, that seals search for a hard object upon which to dash their prey.

Clearly a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and better than being slapped around the face with a dead fish.

Alas, the octopus was eaten.

Ban Of The Week

Being an Ironman triathlete requires you to eat an enormous amount of tucker to sustain your energy levels, so I’m told. German software engineer, Jaroslav Bobrowski, is an enthusiast and his dietary regime is to fast for 20 hours and then to eat until his full.

His regular sushi restaurant, the Running Sushi, in Landshut in Bavaria offers an all-you-can eat deal for the modest outlay of €15.90 and Jaroslav often visits to fill his metaphorical boots.

But on his latest, and last, visit, I read this week, he proceeded to demolish almost one hundred plates of sushi.

Feeling that he should reward the gaff for its generosity and as a token of appreciation, Jaroslav, on checking out, offered a tip. Imagine his surprise when not only was his offer rebuffed but he was discretely told never to show his face in the place again. The reason given – he’s eating too much.

I have some sympathy for him.

After all, an offer is an offer. The restaurant presumably feared it might have had to change its name to Running out of Sushi.

Balls Of The Week (3)

I stumbled across the World Testicle Cooking Championships a bit late this year but it will definitely be in my diary for next year.

Held in Lipovica, deep in the Serbian countryside at the beginning of September, around twenty teams from around the world compete to produce the tastiest testicle dish, in pursuit of the coveted Balls Cup, now in its 15th year.

All the entries were blind tasted by a panel of three judges, including a plucky Australian woman, Philomena O’Brien, and the winners, retaining the title they won last year, were a local Serbian team featuring Milos Kojanic. Special commendations went to a group of Japanese curry makers and a team of French restauranteurs whose menu included bulls’ testicles with foie gras and chocolate “salty balls”.

Grey in colour and with the texture of kidneys, testicles may not be to everyone’s taste but according to aficionados they have aphrodisiac qualities.

The award ceremony concluded with a display of flares and fireworks and then the party began. I wonder if the testicles got to work!