Hello. It is June. This is the sixth monthly instalment of Interesting Skull, a newsletter by Mike Rampton (that’s me) — about ten jokes, some semi-thoughts and ideally some self-promotion. We’ll see.
1
I’ve just finished painting Carly Rae Jepsen’s house extremely pale. She asked for a really really really really really really light hue.
2
“I was on a trip recently and decided to swap from eating a peppery leaf to enjoying a caramel nougat bar.”
“Rocket to Mars?”
“No, just a bus.”
3
“I visited a town in Northamptonshire and bought an electric device for my kitchen.”
“Towcester?”
“No, a kettle is what I purchased on my visit to Kettering.”
A toaster joke, there. Hot stuff. There’s another town in Northamptonshire called Irthlingborough, which is fun as, like, surely every town is an earthling borough?
This coming Monday, a press release is being sent out about a book I’ve been working on for absolutely flippin’ ages. Over the last two decades I’ve been sent maybe 25,000 press releases, but this is the first time I’ve been in one. Given that I ignored about 24,800 of the ones I got, I’m not necessarily expecting it to set the world alight, but still, fun. It’s a shame it doesn’t line up with the first-Friday-of-the-month publishing schedule of this newsletter (everyone knows that’s the publishing schedule, you can’t walk down a street without hearing people murmuring, “I can’t wait for the first Friday of the month, that’s when I get sent an email of a dude moaning about his career and three links to Cracked articles”), but you can’t have everything.
Sometimes, ha ha ha, it feels like I can’t have anything! Anything at all! Ha ha ha!
4
“I'm going to a pop concert, the food and drinks are free and my journey home is sorted, do I need to take anything with me?”
“At least your keys.”
“No, Britney Spears.”
5
“I’m going to alert the media to the method by which the pilot of the Enola Gay dropped the atomic bomb.”
“Press release?”
“Yes, that’s the button he pressed.”
6
I recently turned down a job making salads as it didn’t meet my celery expectations.
I was in a pharmacy the other day picking up a prescription and the pharmacist farted. I got really annoyed, because the obvious gag to make — something along the lines of “phartmacist, more like” — is both correct and rubbish.
Last month I mentioned walking past a famous person for the first time since moving to Cambridge. The other day it happened again. I don’t have a lot of local friends, but due to school pick-up am on vague nodding terms with a reasonable amount of people. I was walking past the Cambridge Beer Festival with my daughter and saw a familiar face — bearded, 40ish, basically looking like most of the people I know — so waved before realising it wasn’t actually a vague acquaintance at all, but the famous comedian and poet Tim Key. Really underlined the “no local mates” thing. Like trying to have a pint with the telly.
Hey, talking of telly, I got an email the other day asking if I wanted to go on GB News. I politely declined — it would have clashed with my breakfast and I’m not a massive racist. I also don’t have anything to promote so there would be nothing in it for me at all, just a disrupted breakfast and a vague feeling I’d allied myself with the devil. Luckily enough, even if I did have something to promote it would still be a very easy no — GB News’s viewing figures are so low that, in terms of exposure, I’d be better off just walking around the street yelling. I do that anyway! Ha ha ha!
Just the one cavorting-for-coins piece in the i paper this month: I gave up coffee for a while in favour of a mushroom-based substitute and mild hilarity, slash, a lot of napping ensued. It hadn’t occurred to me, when pouring a whole pot of coffee into my mouth for the purposes of an amusing photo, that it would make my teeth look brown and repulsive.
I’ve done some more interesting historical pieces for Cracked. A knight whose name became a bottom-based insult, and his peculiar connection to Mozart and insane Clown Posse. Hans Christian Andersen’s self-love diary. The fear of being buried alive, and what people did to try to prevent it.
7
I just found my sunglasses putting an Edwardian street urchin on a clothes horse. That’s what I get buying ‘waif airers’.
8
“I’ve been hanging around at the hatmakers’ boxing match.”
“Milliner bout?”
“Yes.”
9
I used to buy my washing powder from Louisiana, but recently I've switched to non-bayou.
Other than the end of half-term and an Inset day, June should hopefully be a month in which I actually get some work done. So, you know, that’ll be nice, and might help keep me from dying in a debtor’s prison by autumn. Although I’m also doing a half-marathon, so there’s a real chance I’ll die before the solstice.
Thanks for reading, if you did. Please tell people about this. And tell me I’m good! HAVE A LOVELY MONTH
10
WHAT I AM CURRENTLY READING
How To Be Your Own Aunt by Marion Uncle
Actors Who Played Hamlet by Dane Bowers
Conundrums And Enigmas by Mr Ian Intrigue
A Confusing Frederick Forsyth Biography by Dave Thejackal
Two Types Of Bread by Ryan Brown