Brian's Brief Encounters

This is an Unofficial Kaffe Fassett fanzine. Brought to you from a Leafy Suburb of the Throbbing Metropolis.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Natural Enemies

Sometimes the obvious solution isn’t.

Obvious, I mean.

In times of crisis it’s nice to know that there is always someone there for you. Even though Mrs Brian with her disdainful looks and pithy comments weren’t readily available; there is always another option. In my case I turned to the internet and They may have been having an off day recently but, it’s hard to miss their advertisements these days. So, I gave them another chance.

“Hello, Leafy Suburb Naturist Club. Brad speaking, how can I help you?”

“Oh…err….hello. I….erm… got your number from the internet….”


I had the feeling that this wasn’t the first slightly tongue-tied person Brad had fielded a call from. The truth is that I didn’t really think about who I would be speaking to when I dialled the number. I challenge anyone to telephone a naturist club and not imagine the person on the other end being in the buff. I’m sure Brad was a lovely chap. However, the images that persisted on presenting themselves in my mind were somewhat disturbing. I hoped he and his co-workers had designated chairs.

“Yes, I have a little problem I wondered if you could help me with?”

“Oh I see. Don’t worry, we offer a wholesome, clothing optional environment focusing on body acceptance and giving you the opportunity to gain a better body image and more self-esteem.”

I wondered if they used Blu-Tac or drawing pins in their office. My money was on the Blu-Tac.

“Oh right. How are you with stingy things and spiky watchamacallits?”


I hoped they had the air conditioning cranked up so that they didn’t catch a chill in this cold snap we’ve been having.

“You see, I searched for ‘fighting dirty against Mother Nature’ and you were recommended.”

“We were?!?”

Buffy Brad wasn’t sounding so cocky now.

“Yes. Do you have a callout charge? Or, is it just an hourly rate?”

“Err… We don’t do home visits.”

“How are you going to rid my knoll site of the stingy things and spiky watchamacallits then?”

“I’m not exactly sure we can help you. We don’t fight against Mother Nature; we embrace her.”

Sigh. I wasn’t entirely certain that Mrs Brian would be too chuffed with Brad and his chums embracing in the garden. She’d be bound to ask some tricky questions. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Any chance you could pop round to embrace some of her less welcome offspring and rip them out by the roots?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I have plenty of Dettol…..”


“….and an angle grinder if it helps?”


Click, buurrrr.

Typical. Trotting out a flashy mission statement but, when it comes down to the nitty-gritty they turn their noses up. I’ll bet they’ll be the first to complain when cheap EU labour comes in and takes their jobs. They’re safe for a while yet; searching for a Polish naturist club willing to do a home visit was beyond even the trusty Yell. It’s only a matter of time though.

With Mother Nature still winning the battle of the knoll site and Buffy Brad falling woefully short of expectations; it was time to bring out the big gun. No more Mr Nice Guy.

It was Google-Time.


At 15/3/06 10:04 PM, Anonymous Lee said...

Hi Brian,

Ive been reading you blog for a couple of weeks now, lovin this knoll project - Excellent!


At 15/3/06 10:25 PM, Blogger FunkyGibbon said...

You're clearing the ground and then covering it in three tons of alpaca doodo yes? Well, in that case it doesn't matter what state the ground underneath is in then does it?

Step 1. Wave loved one off to work.

Step 2. Buy a really big bag of marshmallow rings.

Step 3. Borrow a video camera.

Step 4.Apply three gallons of unleaded and two bags of garage forecourt charcoal to area that requires clearing.

Step 4. Set the video camera going.

Step 5. Strip naked, apply the marshmallow rings to ALL available appendages and with a cry of "behold the human toasting fork" throw a lit bundle of petrol soaked rags at the treated area.

Result: Clear garden and eternal internet fame as that mad copper with the sugar burns in an uncomfortable place. You'd get the heat off Ian Blair for a bit, though the daily mail would probably say your injuries were still his fault.

At 25/3/06 8:01 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...


Everything OK? You've gone very quiet - let your admiring public know all is 'in order'.


At 25/3/06 9:40 PM, Blogger cancelledmyself said...

Hi Brian

I love your blog, been reading it since last summer. Please don't be offended if I say that your humourous tomes helped inspire me to do my own blog.

I'm sorry to hear that you have been censored along with so many other blogs. Although my experiences with the job weren't happy, and I might be considered somewhat biased, it doesn't surprise me that Met Police Ltd (as Ian Blair has no liability) has clamped down on its officers.

all the best with the new approach, I remain an avid reader

At 27/3/06 10:58 PM, Anonymous grindle said...

As Moley said, you've gone very quiet. Further request for assurance of well-being.

At 29/3/06 11:54 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hope things are ok.. the lack of updates are a tad worrying :(

(hard to understand how the recent gardening posts can be construed as bringing the force into disrepute or anything)

At 7/4/06 8:28 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Does anyone have the codes for the six feet under evening standard dvd from thursday please ?

At 8/4/06 3:57 AM, Anonymous DWJ said...

Concerned fan checking in. Hope all is well.

At 21/4/06 2:15 PM, Anonymous Andy said...

I'm afraid that Brian seems to be missing in action. A public enquiry should be set up to determine the nature of his disappearance.

Has he been googlewhacked?

Has he been attacked by the Land Shark because he didn't throw the rubber ball?

Has his knoll collapsed on him and buried him under a ton of camel pooh?


At 21/5/06 6:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello Brian,
Was that you over at walkingthestreets or another Brian? Hope you're doing OK and that the bastards didn't grind you down too much.


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