Firing A Baked Potato Into A Large Crowd Of People At this time of the year, with outdoor events and concerts proliferating around the country, many think of ways to make a Glastonbury or Reading festival unique for them. Some take a cocktail of unusual substances, others run a stall selling homemade badges or bring their children along for "the experience". By contrast,
the Welsh cider casualty HDUK encountered at this year's Ashton Court jamboree in Bristol had his own
way of making the festival one to remember. It involved a homemade catapult constructed from medical
tubing, and cooked potatoes in plastic bags he'd evidently been up all night baking. To ask him why
would have been the height of rudeness, so I simply got out of the way and watched as the Welshman
gained adulation from other festival-goers by firing the spud several hundred feet into twenty thousand
people waiting expectantly for Goldie Lookin' Chain. I think it hit a small boy.
Data Input Craziness
If you find yourself out of work, why not register with a temping agency and specify data entry work. Then, on your first assignment, type in details in a manner both amusing and incorrect. For example, you could misspell surnames ('Stevenson' is really quite close to 'Shirtlifter' when you think about it), get addresses wrong (who lives at 9 Minger Road?) and screw up post codes (the sorter's face will be a picture when he sees junk mail addressed to QWERTY UIOP!). Practically any details held by large organisations prepared to
employ brain-dead chimpanzees can be targeted, you could even imagine you're protesting against increased globalisation or something. In reality this hobby probably won't bring down capitalism, but it will teach your employers the folly of paying short-term peanuts to tosspots.
A wiser man than me once said that cocaine is God's way of saying you've too much money. Not so!
The truly affluent will find that extended leisure time available for indulging pointless pastimes will
probably result in high-quality dairy produce rather than "gum sherbet" lying around their Shoreditch
mansion. Well,now you can combine time wasting and cheese-use for the first time! Just mould
cheddar, edam, or one of their hard cheesy cousins into an artistic or amusing shape. Best of all, the
mess you make will not only be aesthetically pleasing but edible too! We suggest you start with
something simple, like Pacman, before moving onto more challenging sculptures such as Brian
Blessed's head or a shaven quim.
First enter your local newsagent, get out the marbles you've just bought (or stolen from a passing schoolboy), and place them inside the pages of the emporium's finest jazz mags. Then snigger gleefully behind the ice cream cabinet as an unsuspecting filth-fan wanders in and attempts to casually peruse the latest edition of 'Back Door Madams'. They'll make one hell of a din as the marbles fall to the floor, and the pervo may even take a tumble on the ensuing detritus, doubling your comedy value. And what's this? Now the owner's come to see about the commotion! But she's slipped on the marbles too, and landed on top of the pervert - what a palaver!
Asking People For The Time One for the anthropologers amongst you, this is an ideal way of comparing and contrasting the behaviour of different people around the UK. For example, the Londoner is likely to deny all knowledge of the concept of "time" and quicken his step with a disgusted shake of the head. That is, unless you've approached a copper. who'll inevitably run you down the station for wasting police time. Should you make such a query out in the rural wilds you could well be treated to a half hour discourse, because in their day all the youngsters could tell time from the position of the sun and that plough weren't half as rusty fifty year ago lad. The possibilities are endless, and do email us with your best results. Probably good to remove any timepieces from your personage before embarking on this pastime though, otherwise you may find yourself in a Carshalton nuthouse, or with your head kicked in.
Tie That Looks Like A Piano
Before HDUK was even a glint in the eyes of its degenerate founders, the 'Tie That Looks Like A Piano' was the
source of many rib-tickling (and page-filling) articles in our world-famous West Country-based hard copy magazine,
the name of which now escapes me. Occasionally we like to relive those days of censorship and bad puns by
wearing TTLLPs wherever possible, so why not follow our lead and pop one round your neck the next time you're off
to work, university, school, an overpriced ponce-bar, or lounging around your cell, in fact anywhere you might find
yourself during the course of your daily fucking around. Of course this is only guaranteed to be funny for about five
minutes (unless you've ingested psilocybin at some point over the previous two hours), but it could start a trend
which thick-as-pigshit Premiership footballers pick up on and milk to death. Like gay spikey-fashion victim hairstyles,
designer trainers or rape.
For some of you this may already be less a hobby than a way of life, but you probably call it 'Men's Fashion'. Now, taking a certain amount of pride in one's appearance when seen in public is probably worthwhile, particularly if you don't want people looking at you the same way as old Mr. Nesbitt who feeds the pigeons and once got struck by lightning. However, too much time spent pouring over berets, male pashminas, cravats, cargo trousers or ergonomic running shoes, and you're on a slippery slope, one which inevitably ends with kids spitting at you, regular exfoliation sessions and death by anorexia. Dress up like a tool, by all means, but beware the ironic adoption of the tool's lifestyle, lest thou should become a tool too. Which, I believe, is a direct quote from the bible.
When Will They Answer The Door?
A game for two or more gamblers, first find an old person's house, then ring the doorbell and start your stopwatch. Since each player has already nominated a timescale they feel will produce the right result to win them the "pot". there then follows a frisson of excitement as you time how long the resident takes, made all the more thrilling by the possibility these people might've looked through a secret spyhole and called the police. Earn extra points if your old person answers the door more rapidly than the last time you played. NB. You'll find a fake ID from the gas board extremely useful for this hobby - some elderly folks sure can turn nasty, but do
refrain from burgling them if you can help it.