The Blair Bee Project

Inspired by the release of Tony Blair’s new book, I wanted to share a load of old bollocks I had written with him. Unfortunately, I don’t have Tony’s email address, but as I have already written it, an “open letter” to Mr Blair will have to do……

Dear Mr. Blairs,

Please allow me first to say how much I admire you and what you have achieved, both politically and personally.

I have never understood the criticisms of your detractors and I have always vehemently disagreed with those who claim that your signature wavy hair and fixed smile make you look a bit deranged “like a wavy haired chimpanzee on acid” (not my words, and certainly not my sentiment) .

I am writing to you today in the hope that you may be able to offer some advice on a most upsetting matter which I am facing on the home front.

In mid June I was alerted to the fact that a swarm of bees had taken up residence in a bush toward the end of my garden.

I suspected that this may contain the dreaded “African Killer Bees” that we hear so much about in the news.

Fearing for the safety of my children, I called the council, who then put me in touch with my local environment agency. I spoke to a fantastic chap there called Kevin (he had a slight speech impediment, which caused him to say his name as “David”, but I overlooked this and called him Kevin anyway as I did not want to cause offence by highlighting his disability).

A couple of days later “Kevin” visited me to investigate the impending threat. After some time spent examining the nest he concluded that there were no killer bees in the nest, just “conventional” honey bees, and that the safest option was to just leave the bees alone – they posed no significant danger to us if undisturbed.

While I had developed an enormous amount of respect for Kevin, I realised that he probably didn’t know what he was talking about, so, like any responsible parent, I ignored his advice completely.

The next day, I sent my 11 year old son to hit the nest with a stick.

A bee stung him in the face.

I cannot tell you how pleased I was to be proven right ! Clearly the bees posed a clear and present danger to the wellbeing of my family.

Just to be sure, the next day I sent my 8 year old daughter out to hit the nest, armed with a slightly shorter stick (to improve accuracy).

A bee stung her in the face.

Well, this confirmed it. The bees were obviously exhibiting the overtly aggressive behaviour which I knew they would, despite the “expert” advice given by Kevin/David.

I have read that, in scientific tests, bees have been found to show a greater level of intelligence than both monkeys and dolphins – I can’t find the article now but I’m fairly sure it was written by people rather than a bee, monkey or dolphin, and, as such, has the independence that we scientists require for validity.

You will notice that I refer to myself as a scientist. I do not want to be accused of misrepresenting myself, so for clarity, I shall explain the basis on which I have adopted the title :

1. I own a lab coat. (it actually belongs to my wife, so it’s a bit snug, but I still “look the part”)
2. I have been keeping a log of the bee activity and have produced charts and statistical analysis of the attacks. See below :

 

As can be seen from the above charts the sting rate is 100%  – I am unaware of your scientific background, so please forgive me if this seems patronising, but in layman’s terms, 100% is what we scientists call “lots of bee stings”.

So, I think that clears up any doubt about my scientific qualifications.

Getting back to the matter at hand, combating what I now knew to be an enemy of great intelligence and sophistication, I had to “up my game”.

I found a new stick and sent my wife to hit the nest with it.

A bee stung her in the face.

Even to those without a scientific bent, such as yourself, a clear pattern was emerging  – the bee attacks were on the increase. Drastic action was required, and my entire army had suffered injuries (all in the face too, which is nasty).

It was then that I began to think about the article comparing the relative intelligence of monkeys and bees. Although bees are more intelligent, perhaps they could be thwarted by a greater number of monkeys. I set about buying 2 monkeys.

You would not believe how difficult it is to buy a pair of monkeys with bee fighting experience in the UK. Even the internet could not help.

In true British fashion, I refused to give up. What the bees didn’t know was that I still had an ace or two up my sleeve.

Although highly intelligent, I doubted that bees were clever enough to tell the difference between a monkey and a cat wearing a Fez hat. So, I Sellotaped a Fez to each of my two cats, tied a stick to each of their tails and hurled them at the nest.

Bees stung them both in their hairy little faces.

Clearly, the bees were clever enough to tell that these were hat-wearing felines and not their more cunning simian hat-wearing cousins.

Incidentally, it transpires that an area set aside for bee hives is called an Apiary – pronounced “ape-ee-ary”. Clearly this is due to the high number of apes found in these areas – presumably hunting the bees (their only natural predator).

At my wits’ end, I phoned Kevin-Dave. I explained the situation and what had occurred since his visit. He said that he would be talking to the RSPCA and Social Services, which surprised me as I had no idea that they had expertise in bee combat.

The current situation is that I have purchased bee-keeping costumes for each of the family members and we wear them at all times when at home. Bizarrely, they do not make bee-keeping attire for cats, so I have fashioned protective helmets for them using some old net-curtains and one of those bucket-looking things that animals wear around their heads to stop them licking themselves after an operation. Unfortunately, the cats seem to find these uncomfortable and have become a bit withdrawn, but better this, than to have them stung in the face every time I throw them at the bees nest. Which is often.

Difficult as the situation is, I’m sure we are much safer than if I had chosen to blindly ignore the threat as suggested by Kev-Dave.

Anyway, I hope you see why I thought you may be able to relate to my situation – I have seen pictures of your wife and she has quite obviously been stung in the face a few times.

Regards,

Mat Davis

P.S. forgive any typographical errors – it is surprisingly hard to hit the keys in these bee-keeping gloves.

The Bento

I bought my wife a “Bento” hot lunch box for Christmas (I did buy her other things too, including a romantic weekend away – i’m not a complete monster). It failed in it’s primary function – that of keeping food warm, so I wrote to the manufacturer, Aladdin.  I have to applaud the customer services lady Sue, both for her help and also for refusing to be drawn in by what is, fairly obviously, the rantings of a madman.

—–Original Message—–
From: Mat Davis
Sent: 7 January 2010 10:55
To:  Aladdin Customer Services
Subject: Defective Products

Dear Aladdin,

Firstly let me say that I am a great fan of your work, I have used your flasks and lunch boxes for many years and have always been very happy with them. I also enjoyed your pantomime and even thought that Disney’s animated documentary of your life had merit (though I did find some of the songs a bit cheesy).

However, on this occasion, I am afraid I have a complaint to make. I don’t usually write letters of complaint, but it’s quite cold outside and writing this will delay my journey out to the shops.
Last December I purchased one of your “Bento” hot lunch boxes as a Christmas gift for my wife. I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking “what sort of man buys his wife of 14 years a damn flask for Christmas ? Surely jewellery, perfume or lingerie would be a more romantic and fitting gift for a woman who has tirelessly suffered the day to day challenges of living with a man who is certificated as 19% special needs ?”
Well, frankly I’m shocked that you would have so little faith in your own product, and also a little concerned that you are even thinking about my wife’s undergarments and would prefer that you don’t bring it up again. Anyway, previous year’s gifts have included a “Goblin Teas-maid” (something of a misnomer, as far as can I tell it only makes tea), a wind-up torch and a frying pan so I think I know best what she likes, and although she has always tried to hide her delight and maintain decorum, every one of these gifts has brought a small tear to her eye.
On Christmas morning, as I’m sure you can imagine, she was again struck dumb with delight when I presented her with your heat-retaining box of culinary joy. “Oh my darling” she said, when she had stopped crying, “now I will be able to enjoy food which has dropped to only 60 degrees from it’s initial 95 degree temperature over the course of as much as 5 hours !”. I would not be overstating her joy were I to describe it as “mild delight”.
It was a green 2-tier job by the way, I spare no expense when trying to convey my deep seated love for her and went straight for the top of the range model. I’m just that sort of chap.

So, it was with no small amount of excitement that I sent her out to work on Tuesday with a box full of steaming goodness.
When she returned home I waited with bated breath in the kitchen, expecting her beaming face to be filled with the love and appreciation that only “quite warm packed lunch” can bring.
“Well”, I said as she entered, “How was your hot lunch ? Is that the best thing you have ever been given or what?”.
“Well, I’m afraid it was actually stone cold”. She said.
“No !” I said.
“Yes, completely cold” she said.
Well, let me tell you Aladdin old chap, those words cut me to the bone. There I was thinking that I had given her the gift of hot lunch, when no, actually I had given her the gift of a green tub full of cold sludge. I could see in her eyes that I had slipped in her estimation, no longer “giver of warm sustenance”; now just “provider of bitter disappointment”.
I’m not certain what the long term damage to my marriage could be from such a catastrophic let down, but let me say this, I dialed 1471 on the phone when I got home last night and the number read back in a monotonous robotic drone was that of our solicitor.

I place a high price on the value of my marriage, as will be obvious from the £11.99 I spent at Dunelm Mill (which is actually a shop,not a Mill at all – weird) in purchasing said “insulated receptacle of misery” and I am willing to do whatever is necessary to repair the damage.

“Taking homemade food on the go has never been easier or more stylish” – that’s what it says in the blurb on your website. Well, stylish it may be, but as for easy, you try telling my cat why daddy’s sleeping on the sofa – hardest conversation I’ve ever had, I swear at one point he looked up from licking himself and I could clearly see that he was already trying to choose between us. I gave him some cheese to try and win favour, but honestly I don’t know if it’ll be enough.
So, now I am putting the, somewhat tepid, ball in your court. What do I do now Aladdin ? Eh, what do I do now ?

Many thanks,
Mat Davis.

—– Original Message —–
From: “Sue Dyer”
To: Mat Davis
Sent: Monday, January 11, 2010 1:41 PM
Subject: RE: Defective Products

Good afternoon

Thank you for your recent e-mail which was sitting waiting for me after a long Christmas break.  This is my first day back in the office and though a colleague of mine was answering some of my e-mails towards the end of last week things became very hectic in the office with many members of staff being off due to the very icy conditions.

We are sorry to hear that your Bento container is not working to yours satisfaction and will be happy to replace it for you free-of-charge though I have to confess this product will only keep your food hot up to 4 hours and is not intended for longer periods of time.
If you feel an identical replacement is not satisfactory we can offer you another product within our range that will keep your food hot forlonger.

Look forward to hearing from you again soon.

Regards.
Sue
Sue Dyer  Customer Service & Sales Support
Aladdin  |  Stanley – brands of PMI
 
—–Original Message—–
From: Mat Davis

Sent: 11 January 2010 17:51
To: Sue Dyer
Subject: Re: Defective Products

Dear Sue,
Many thanks for your reply. I hope you had a good first day back from your long Christmas break.
I imagine you needed a long break to recover from the stress of having to listen to all those complaints from, I assume, thousands of husbands who have disappointed their wives with cold lunch.
I completely understand the difficulty of having to rely on colleagues to cover your work load while you are absent, I sometimes have to leave my cat (Jeffrey) to answer my emails while I am away. He tries his best, but to be honest, he lacks the opposable thumbs needed for most office duties and his heart’s not really in it. He’s had 2 verbal warnings and a written disciplinary, but you know how cats are. Sometimes I think he’s doing it on purpose just to mock me.

Again, no need to explain the problems of the icy conditions, it’s been pretty chilly here too since my wife turned off the heating, locked the cupboard where the boiler lives and moved out, taking the boiler cupboard key with her.
She is, apparently, now living with a 22 year old Spanish fitness instructor called Javier.
Thank you for your confession that this product will only keep food hot for 4 hours. I had to badger my wife for almost 3 years to force her confession that she has been having an affair with Javier. Admittedly, she has only known him for 2 weeks, but I feel it was the constant questioning of the last few years that encouraged her to confess.
I thought the web-site’s claims of “Keep food hot for up to 5 hours and cold for up to 4 hours (temperature of contents was measured from 95C to 60C for hot and 1.67C to 10C for cold, ambient temperature was held at 23C).” were a little extravagant.

I accept your apology, but I don’t think you should blame yourself for the breakdown of my marriage. Clearly, that is the fault of the designers and engineers who developed the product and the marketing department who made the outrageous claims of heat retention.

Do you make a product similar to this which keeps food hot for longer ? Some sort of cross between a flask and a lunchbox, but that actually keeps the food hot ?

At the moment, I am working around the problem of hot lunches by having Kentucky Fried Chicken delivered to my wife’s work everyday. My plan is two fold:
1. Deliver the hot lunch I initially promised with the gift of the Bento, thus winning back her affection.
2. Make her a bit chubby with all that fried food so that Javier finds her less attractive and kicks her out so that she comes back to me (being a fitness instructor, he is very shallow. Whereas, I won’t mind her being a bit chunky as I am a much deeper and more thoughtful person – as evidenced by my kindly fried food buying).

If you have a product recommendation which might help, I would be very
interested to hear it please.

I will be spending some time at the Library until the weather warms up, but I’ll be leaving Jeffrey in charge and he’ll forward your messages on to me.

Many thanks again, I look forward to your reply,
Mat.

—– Original Message —–
From: “Sue Dyer”
To: “Mat Davis”

Sent: Tuesday, January 12, 2010 10:03 AM
Subject: RE: Defective Products

Good morning

We can recommend as an alternative product our 0.50L Slimline food flask
as follows:

Benefits:
Stainless steel vacuum insulation
Contents stay hot for up to 9 hours and cold for up to 12 hours
Folding spoon inside lid
Great for hot or cold food and soups
Colours:  stainless steel or black painted

An image is attached.

Please let us know if this is suitable along with your full postal
address.

Regards.
Sue

Sue Dyer  Customer Service & Sales Support
Aladdin  |  Stanley – brands of PMI

—– Original Message —–
From: “Mat Davis”
To: “Sue Dyer”

Sent: Tuesday, January 12, 2010 12:42 PM
Subject: RE: Defective Products

Dear Sue,

You had me at “Folding spoon inside lid”.
That sounds fantastic.
Frankly, any women who cannot be wooed by collapsable cutlery is probably  not for me, so if this doesn’t win her back I reckon I’m best off without her.
This is most certainly suitable.
My address is :
Mat Davis
XXXXX
Christchurch
Dorset

Very many thanks,
Mat.

P.S. Jeffrey says hi. Well, it was more of a Miaoooow, but I knew what he meant.

————————————————————————————————

The flask arrived last week, and, as suspected, the folding spoon is a thing of great beauty – Uri Geller can kiss my arse !

I fought the law and the law lost. Ok, not the Law, the RAC and I only won £30…

At the end of last year I had to join the RAC while stood by the side of the M1 motorway. It was entirely my fault – if I’d had the key for my locking wheel nuts I could have changed my own tyre.

It cost about £260 for the membership, emergency call out, garage costs and a new tyre.

I got a bit bored one evening so I decided to try and get some kind of refund……….

———————————————————————————————————

From: Mat Davis

To: racdgtm@aviva.co.uk

Sent: Sunday, December 27, 2009 9:56 PM

Subject: Help ! I have hypothermia and anosmia.

Dear The RAC,
I would really appreciate it if you could forward this to someone high up in the RAC, which, as you are the “Royal” Automobile Club, I assume is the  Queen.

On the evening of 10/12/2009 I was travelling northbound on the M1 when my car suffered a puncture (right in the tyre).At about 6.40 I phoned the RAC and joined on the spot. I was informed that there would be an additional £65 emergency callout charge, which made me feel quite hopeful that help would arrive soon.

About an hour later The RAC Man arrived. Now I appreciate that I should be punished (financially or otherwise) for having the audacity to drive without breakdown cover, but I think you need to rename the “emergency” call out charge to something less evocative of urgency (so as to avoid disappointment). Perhaps the “that’ll teach you charge” or the “oooh, you’ll think twice before you do that again charge”.

He then spent half an hour trying, and failing, to remove the locking  wheel nut (I do not have the key, admittedly my fault, and I have been  punishing myself ever since by allowing myself to only eat food I  don’t like – mostly sprouts, liver and Shipham’s crab paste). At this point I had spent the best part of 2 hours stood in the cold alongside a busy motorway in the dark. According to statistics, which I may have made up, the average length of time for a car on the hard shoulder to be hit by another vehicle is 12 minutes, so by rights my car should have been hit 10 times already and had I been sitting in the car I would be dead 10 times (which is enough to kill even a cat with it’s 9 lives). Somehow, I managed to avoid this, possibly due to my shrewd decision not to bring a cat with me. After giving up, The RAC Man then tried to find a garage to fix my  tyre problem, then had me fill out a customer satisfaction survey –  frankly I was so giddy that my cat wasn’t dead, that I gave full marks  all round.

He ordered a recovery vehicle to come and collect myself and my car and left me back on the hard shoulder. The time by now was about 8.45 (I’m sketchy on the details as hypothermia had well and truly taken hold by this point).

During this time I was visited by a craft with flashing lights and beings with glowing yellow clothing. I cannot be certain, but I suspect that these were representatives from another planet as I could not understand what they were saying and they kept shining lights in my face. Or they might have been from the Highways Agency. Again, it seems that hallucination is often a side effect of hypothermia, so I have no idea who they really were, they kept phoning me too, which further supports my theory that they were not of this world. I have seen the film E.T. and the alien in that (I forget his name) was obsessed with the phone.

I digress.

At 10.00 the recovery vehicle turned up and loaded my car, we then travelled for an hour to a garage near my destination. The recovery man was very nice (I didn’t tell him about the aliens – didn’t want to worry him) I did tell him that I worried about Walt Disney as he has had his head cryogenically frozen and, having spent nearly 4 hours freezing myself, I thought Walt might have suffered some long lasting effect from being frozen (I, for example, have completely lost my sense of smell from just those few hours). I suspect Mr.Disney may have lost his ability to draw, and not just  because he has no arms, legs or body, I don’t think he’ll even be one of those mouth painters that make the charity Christmas cards.

Anyway, when we got to the garage, the mechanics there made me a cup of tea and swapped my punctured tyre for the space saver, in turn, I attempted to swap my alien story, for their mechanic services, but they insisted on monetary recompense.

I got to my hotel at 12.45am, cold, hungry and tired (and tyred).

I had to get up early the next morning to buy a proper tyre and get to my dull meeting about databases.

In light of the fact that I spent over 3 and a half hours stood by a  busy motorway on a cold, dark night (and should definitely have been killed by traffic 21 times (statistically) and could also have been  abducted by aliens), please could I have some kind of refund ?

Or failing that, could you change the name of the “emergency call out fee” to the “ha ha ha you should have joined up outside Tesco while  you had the chance fee” ?

Or failing that, could I at least have my membership card and documents which I am still waiting for ?

I’m afraid I cannot give you my membership number as I don’t yet have my documents, (did I mention that ? ) but my address is :

Mathew Davis

xxxxxxxxxx

Christchurch,

Dorset.
Many thanks,
Mat Davis

————————————————————-

Well, yesterday I had a call from the RAC and they have agreed to refund £30 of the emergency call out fee.

I had quite a chat with a nice man who was very concerned about the Extraterrestrial aspect of my experience. It was probably the most unusual phone conversation I have had at work.

Although I am happy to get a small refund, I am considering the offer and may write again to see if I can get them to sweeten the deal by including a glove puppet of a frog.