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November 20, 2003
From the Minutes (Reginald Bastard, Secretary):
Well well well well well well well well well how very nice then. Important people like me who talk loudly in restaraunts know the importance of a good bolt of caffeine up the strap in the morning, just to get the old braincase turning over and fire up the old guttiwuts, you know? Speaking of which--excuse me for just a moment.
[leaves podium, exits stage right, heads down hall, turns right, enters loo, enters loo stall, does his business, exits loo stall, exits loo, realizes he's forgotten to wash his hands, re-enters loo, washes hands, exits loo, turns left, heads up hall, enters stage left via some kind of spatial rift, steps up to podium]
Much better; I'm positively buoyant. Which is to say that I now tend to float on a liquid or rise in air or gas, much like a "buoyant balloon," a "buoyant balsawood boat" or "a floaty scarf."
A floaty scarf?
Never mind that.
Ladies and gentlemen of the Board. Colleagues, associates, hired women, stockholders, and members of the clergy. I come before you this quarter with grave concerns, concerns brought to my attention by the dilligence of our accounting staff and several subpoenas. Although Astonished Head has posted profits of nearly eight hundred billion dollars and eight cents for the past two quarters, our marketshare has been declining precipitously in a way that looks rather odd to people who know about this sort of thing. Examine, if you would, this first chart.
Reginald! The slide!
As you can see, our first issue launched with a perfectly respectable market share number thingie of 28.9. This increased to 49.6 during the Afghanistan Campaign, dipped slightly with the premier of Tea Time With Biggles The Hedgehog, and peaked at 89.9 during the Iraq Campaign. This was followed by a precipitous decline after our feature, How To Recognize Different Sorts of Boils. We rebounded slightly with our religious affairs program, Is There A God And If So What Is He Wearing?, declined a bit again with our quiz-show foray, Win A Date With Aldous The Fister, and then it was one long miserable gangrenous slide into a vast pit of excrement with What's On My Shoe?, Essential Pus, and Flatulence Of The Stars.
Finally, we have achieved a historically bad market share of -125.2 with our apparently totally unnecessary offering, My Ass. As you are aware, this means that not only are people not reading Astonished Head, they are actually giving birth to children for the express purpose of increasing the number of people who are not reading Astonished Head.
Clearly, this is an unsustainable trend. At the very least, the cost of rounding up all of those children and raising them in Astonished Head-friendly environments will be detrimental to our bottom line and my expense account. I put it to you: contrary to our best market research, the evidence suggests that the reading public is not interested in things like boils, pus, flatulence, or my ass.
[audience reaction]
I know. I was astounded myself. But facts are facts, except when I've been able to purchase the negatives and destroy them. Our publication needs a new direction. I, for one, suggest heading north for a while, then sort of westwards until we reach one of the Great Lakes, and then plunging down into its watery depths until the pressure makes our eardrums implode or we can nestle safely in the soft, cold, lightless muck of the lakebottom. Either one is good; our research suggests that imploding eardrums will appeal to three-quarters of the reading population, and nestling in the muck will appeal to the other three quarters and to those members of the reading population who are bottom-feeding aquatic creatures of some kind.
Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen. With your help, we can turn Astonished Head back into the towering, quivering mass of gelatinous goo it once was. With determination, grit, hard work, liberal applications of cream for my eczema, and vast infusions of cash from the Colombians, I know that we can prevail!
[applause]
Thank you. Now, please feel free to enjoy the oyster bar and the vodka tub.
[more applause]
November 24, 2003
Reggie Bastard Out And About
To implement Management's plan for making Astonished Head into the world's premier provider of things, we've come up with some staggeringly original never-been-done-before ideas that are really stupendously smashing and great.
For starters, we equipped our company Secretary Reginald Bastard with a microphone, a camera, a box of sandwiches, and a small-caliber pistol and sent him out to talk to the Viewing Public.
This week's Man On The Street question: what's your compulsion?
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Walter Taylor, Retired
"Masturbation. I can't stop myself...watching the television, driving the car, feeding the cat, bingo at the church...if I wasn't on medication, it would be very embarrassing."
Dan Haggler, Beer Mechanic
"I kill strangers who ask me questions. Do I know you? I don't think I know you."
William Algernon Taffy-Machine, Mattress Tester
"I am compelled to keep a rodent in my pants at all times. At the moment, it is a Eurasian red squirrel, but later this evening I am going to the pub, and so will switch to a Djungarian dwarf hamster, as they are easier to manage whilst visiting the urinal."
Edith Winkle, Masseuse
"I would have to say...violence. I'm always breaking people's teeth with conveniently-placed objects, like this brick."
John Smith, Meat-on-a-stick Vendor
"Compulsion? I have no compulsions whatsoever. None. In fact, If I were to rate my compulsiveness on a scale of one to 520, I would first wash my hands, then head down to the corner store for a pint of milk and a pint of cream, then over to the laundry for a packet of soap, then back to my apartment, where I would write the numbers one to 520 on the wall with a periwinkle crayon, and then stand on my head while reciting selected passages from Chilton's Guide to Small Engine Repair."
David H. Byars, Portrait
"I'm a painting. Stop talking to me."
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And there you have it. Next week, our man Reggie Bastard will hit the streets with a jar of pickled herring in sour cream and a bayonet to ask the Viewing Public about gardening.
January 13, 2005
Reggie Bastard Eats An Omelette
To continue the implementation of Management's excellent plan for making Astonished Head into the world's premier provider of things, we came up with some staggeringly original never-been-done-before ideas that are really stupendously smashing and great.
Among them: equipping Company Secretary Reginald Bastard with a microphone, a camera, some candied yams, a ferret, and a hand grenade and sending him out to talk to the Viewing Public.
This year's Man On The Street question: how groovy is the President?
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Phillip Small, Disco King
"Not very. Personally, I think that he needs more cocaine. Doesn't everyone?"
Emmet Phelps, Professional Yokel
"Ya'll cain't come 'round here askin' questions like that. 'S agin' God's law t' be groovy. So git along now, afore ya git yerself battered up and fried, and served with some slaw and mebbe a root beer."
Howard "Buffy" McGuinness, Philosopher
"By all accounts, the President excels in grooviness, mainly due to the vast Texas plain from whence he sprang, like a fiery demon of the South'ren groove, what with his ears and his cock-eye'd grin and his prodigious manglement of the English language, lacking only a smooth coat of exterior polyester to make him, indeed, the very paragon of all that is groovy on this earth. Is that a ferret?"
Sarah Flippant, Satellite Dish Repairman
"I think that he ought to be shot, because I'm partial to children, and he eats far too many of them. That's just selfish."
Walt Lever, Taxidermist
"Not nearly groovy enough. I know what hunts him."
Saddam Hussein, Inmate
"Much groovier than I thought he was, apparently."
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And there you have it. Next year, our man Reggie Bastard will hit the streets, which is unfortunate.
March 14, 2005
Dear Astonished Head readers,
Greetings and salutations. My name is Reginald Bastard, company secretary, who has had enough bits at this point to warrant his own category archive but for some inexplicable reason does not have one. I feel that some explanation is in order.
Ian Wood, our illustrious founder, Editor, CEO, etc. has apparently gone missing. After hurling abuse at the staff on Wednesday last, he donned a pith helmet and high-tailed it out of the parking lot in his Bentley, shouting incoherantly, leaving behind only the laboriously computer-rendered note found on that day's posting.
Since then, we have been receiving instruction via carrier pigeon and sewer rat.
We are, apparently, to post whatever he sends to us via non-electronic means, for the foreseeable future. Such as the following poorly-spelled missive, received today in a box full of swamp grass and dead frogs:
Before anyone asks--no, I do not think this has anything to do with me. I have little involvement with cured meat products of any kind.
Please accept my apologies. And feel free to browse other blogs during this hopefully temporary period of uninspired lunacy on the part of the Editor.
Best Regards,
Reginald Bastard
Company Secretary
(I've got an MFA you know)
March 17, 2005
Greetings--
Reginald Bastard here again.
This arrived this morning taped to the back of what our entomologist assures me is a fine example of Gromphadorhina portentosa, also known as the Madagascan Giant Hissing Cockroach:
Honestly, I've no idea. He may still be somewhere close by, hiding. Or perhaps he's hired someone to deliver his messages. Someone who's got access to the office doughnuts.
Or, more disturbingly... perhaps he has access to some very smart roaches. And I think you all know just what that might mean.
We're starting to get a bit worried. If you see him, do drop us a line.
--RB
December 23, 2005
Reggie Bastard On The Street
To continue the ongoing implementation of Management's fantabulous plan for transforming Astonished Head into the world's foremost purveyor of high-class not-at-all-for-cheap-tarts entertainment, we came up with even more head-bashingly unique concepts which are so incredibly wonderful that we should kill you right now to save you from the crushing disapointment that the rest of your life will inevitably become after you've been exposed to them.
Such as: equipping Company Secretary Reginald Bastard with a microphone, a camera, a handful of crêpe batter, a shoestring, and a packet of ketchup, and sending him out to talk to the Viewing Public.
This month's Man On The Street question: What's the true meaning of Christmas?
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Alistaire Fructose, Bricklayer
"To have as many elves as possible. In my pants."
Harry "Tiger" Watkins, Rodeo Clown
"To further the materialistic pressures of a social structure deliberately designed to keep the masses in thrall to shiny things."
Lester Bodkin, Crab Fisherman
"Last I heard, it was to keep those goddamn wetbacks on the South side of the border, where they belong. But I could be wrong, or drunk."
Lousie Pebble, Exotic Dancer
"Peace and good will towards the men with the biggest huevos. "
William Juniper, Musician
"Something about cookies. And, uh, crack. Yessir, it's not Christmas without a fat rock in the pipe!"
Reuben Tishkoff, Impresario
"You gonna steal from Santa Claus, you better goddamn know. This sorta thing used to be civilized. You'd hit a guy, he'd whack you, done! But Claus...at the end of this he better not know you're involved, not know your names, or think you're dead. Because he'll kill you, and then he'll go to work on you."
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And there you have it. Hairy Follidays, every bloody!
June 09, 2007
Reggie Bastard Falls Over And Foams At The Mouth
After a long period of poor quarterly results, smashing parties where not-at-all-discreet things were done atop the photocopier, and a rousing investigation by the SEC, we here at Astonished Head are moving boldly forward with a fabulous New Plan for realizing bullet point two of our Mission Statement, namely:
- Create a publication that is mostly entertaining except for the times when it isn't.
In fulfillment of our obligations as handed down by the federal courts, we gave Company Secretary Reginald Bastard a selection of marital aids, a bottle of port, two budgies and a whack upside the head and sent him out to talk to the mighty Viewing Public.
This year's Man On The Street question: Hasn't this gone on long enough?
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Alfred "Giggles" Molinari, Segway Dealer
"Depends on what you mean. Have I had an orgasm? No? Then the answer is no. If, on the other hand, you're asking about the pasta, it'll just be another minute or two."
Ken Hatrack, Systems Administrator
"It done already gone on too long before it started."
Captain Buford T. Rousler, Crab Fisherman/Sommelier
"Can't a man enjoy his smooth and creamy Orange Julius in peace?"
Edna May Cricket, Football Hooligan
"Too long is never long enough, and I'm sure that I've had much more of it than you have, so I would know."
Winston Throckingsgate, Tobacconist
"You gonna sell any of those dildos? Or are they mostly for show?"
Homer Simpson, Important Cartoon Man
"This has gone on just long enough!"
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And there you have it. Next year, our man Reggie Bastard will be skydiving over Maldives wearing nothing but a supermodel and a smile as part of a documentary about puffer fish and Japanese impotence.
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