Fronts vs Fonts

A banquet! That's what I was sent yesterday by young Jay of Strange Vibez. A ruddy banquet of puns. He's caught three shopfronts of tremendous quality. Let's dissect thesem shall we?



Fishcotheque! That's probably the same lot that organised the Enchantment Under The Sea dance in Back to The Future! Ok, so it's not, its a chippy near Waterloo, but still! They probably play a lot of Sole in that place, ho ho.




These two are both in Norbiton, which is only round the corner from me. I should go check out that place out more often by the looks of it! The only problem I have is that Woofs a Daisy! have used Comic cocking Sans as their typeface of choice. Now, I know I've said I wouldn't go into design stuff previously, but while I have your attention..

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WILL EVERYONE JUST WIPE COMIC SANS FROM THEIR HARDDRIVE. IT IS AN INSULT TO DESIGNERS, BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY PEOPLE WITH EYES EVERYWHERE.

Phew. It feels good to get that out.
Fantastic work, Jay. Keep it up!

Matte of the day

I just got a text from Jed (he who spotted me the Fond Ewe), with conclusive proof that the red tops don't hold the monopoly on punning, which is great news, cos it's not just low-brow that I'm after.

Brian Viner's column in today's Independent is a colourful rant on names. Specifically names of paint swatches and later of famous people's offspring. You can find the whole column here, but I've plucked out the highlight for those who frankly can't be bothered:

Anyway, we've been trawling through the internet looking at used cars, and have found ourselves longing for the days when vehicles were white, red, blue and green. Now they are black sapphire, titanium grey, magic blue, caper green, savile grey pearl and even electric silver coarse flake metallic. It's like buying a car from Farrow and Ball, or would be, if Farrow and Ball hadn't stepped up to the next level of daftness, offering matt vinyl emulsions in arsenic, clunch, elephant's breath, dead salmon, mouse's back and ancient virtue. All you want to do is find a suitable colour for the downstairs loo and suddenly you're overcome with emulsion.

That's the best newspaper pun I've seen of late. Let's see who'll get the most column inches on here now you lot are furiously searching the tabloids for me. Someone notify Richard Wallace - He's got his work cut out.

Where the streets have yo' name

We've a bit of a (p)unintentional entry today. My old buddy Sheridan has spotted a street name while driving around the buzzing suburbs of Andover. Take a look at this:



Now, the pedants among you will point out that old Cruella de Vil spells her name with two 'n's. And you'd be right, she does. But whoever's named this particular street surely must have realised the joke, no? Maybe someone at Hampshire County Council is a big Fatal Attraction fan, but unfortunately has a spot of dyslexia?

I guess we'll never know.

Pay pinots, get monkeys

Trust Pete to bring a touch of class to The Punning Man. If he's not schmoozing me in underground cocktail bars while talking about jazz, he's finding me winery puns:



"My God!"

Specs and the city

Farnborough (in Hampshire) is home to more than just the internationally renowned bi-annual airshow y'know. It also boasts an opticians that might belong on the same street at Eroticuts and Big Boy Pizza! Behold:



Yeah, turns out you shouldn't have gone to Specsavers. You dirty boy.

A Partridge amongst the pigeons

Alan Partridge has to be one of television's all-time great comic characters. Even if the recent stage show wasn't quite of the grade we had all hoped for, we can always remember gags like this which more than make up for it.

Edam well should be pleased

The contributions are trickling through a lot more of late, and it is very much appreciated! Hopefully the clement weather we're being evenly distributed at the moment will mean more of you lot will be visiting places far and wide with your eyes and cameras at the ready for me! There's a good fanbase.

I was surprised that a trip down to Worthing didn't yield more results for me this weekend. The only one I found was a poster for a Buddy Holly tribute act playing on the pier which the Sun proclaimed "A Buddy good show!" Not much to shout about, that one.

So it leaves me to rely on Dr Dave Thirde, who's found me (courtesy of Google Streetview), the premier dry-cleaners of Turnham Green:



..however, I have been asked that I also namecheck Aaron, who'd told me about that a week previous, but had no camera to hand. Well, you snooze you lose Aaron, me old mucker!

Today's other sender was Jed, whom it will not surprise those of you that know him, has found me a cheesy pun (and I am speaking literally):



I think it's feta say, that's pretty good.

Ed's you win

Our man in Canada, Ben has kept true to his word and sent me another batch of Canuck wordplay. I'll let him fill you in about Honest Ed's better than I can:

Honest Ed's is a Torontonian institution. It's a massive store on three levels that occupies an entire block. It's full of cheap crap - bad clothes, kitchenware, crappy batteries with brand names you've never heard of, plaster busts of Elvis painted gold, gaudy nativity scenes etc. And the store front is covered with stupid quotes like 'Honest Ed's a monkey - you can buy his bargains for peanuts', 'come in and get lost!' etc. But the only real pun is this one about the socks.



Thanks again Ben, but more importantly thanks to this man:



Now there's an honest man if ever you saw one, right? I've always thought the chap from the Quaker Oats box looked like he'd pay you back asap if you lent him a tenner. It does concern me when people feel the need to tell you they're honest though; in the same way that inmates always say they're innocent. But if I'm ever in Toronto I'm definitely checking out Ed's bargains.

Are you twitting comfortably?

That Murta's done it again! And this time it's even more impressive cos he's been forced to snap on the move, because there's a driving school in Derby that have surpassed expectation in the naming department.



Man, I hope the instructors wearing a sombrero.

In other news, I've recently signed up to social networking media darling Twitter. At first it was just to nose about and see who was on there, but now I've realised there's REAL scope for blog-fodder on there, because there's an almost constant circle of the game I spoke about in this post! The most recent of which was called #britflick, wherby you had to cross film titles with quintessentially British traits.

Here's some of my faves:

Three Men And a Lidl Lady
Ghostbuskers
The Hackney Empire Strikes Back
Reservoir Doggers
Daz Boot
From Hull
Transfarmers
Full Metal Jacket Potato

..and the best I could muster

20,000 Leeds in Division Three
The Halfterminator
Bed & Breakfast at Tiffanys
The Elizabeth Dukes of Hazzard
Bridget Jones' Dairylea

Feel free to comment your own!

Du vin, du pun, du raison

My wonderful girlfriend Eleanor has been searching high and low to find me a pun for on here, bless her heart. And last night she came up trumps while perusing Waitrose's fine wine selection. What makes it extra special is that it's my first foreign language pun!

The connoisseurs among you will no doubt have heard of the French tipple, Châteauneuf du Pape, so-called because of the region where it is made. Well Ellie, being a big fan of both France and wine had a little chuckle to herself when she came across a bottle of "Cat on Egg!"



Let it not be said that with the European Parliamentary Elections coming up, I'm avoiding the big issues! Apologies to the non-Francophones out there. I hope the cartoon of a cat sitting on a large egg was of some consolation.

Private chop

This afternoon my good chum Alex convinced me to get on the dotcom bandwagon. So welcome to my first post on the road to paid-for stardom!

To convince me further, he's found me a seedy piece of high street punnery on Google Streetview (it's good to know some people take my suggestions on board!). Should you ever find yourself in Hayes and in dire need of a sexy hairdo then what better place to pop in then here:



Eroticut!? I mean who thought that was a good name for a hairdressers? (and I am assured it is just a hairdressers). If it's the sort of joint that dishes out a happy ending after a short, back and sides then maybe, but the full size windows at the front make me think that isn't quoted on the pricelist.

The loveliest thing about this establishment though, is the fact that just two doors down is Big Boy Pizza! Spare a thought for the good people at Express Foods, then. They swear it's never happened before and they've just had a stressful week.

Overseas the day

Oh boy oh boy! If you thought I was excited when I got a contribution from Scotland, you'd better hold onto you hats this time, cos The Punning Man has gone overseas this time baby!

Oh Canada indeed! Ok, alright, so Ben (who sent me today's entry) might be an Englishman abroad, but still.. the pun is international, and that's what counts! And what makes it even more exciting is the quality of what he's sent. Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out, like the Beasties (and Gareth Gates) told you to:



Now that's a record store I'd like to visit. Actually, I'd like to visit any record store, but that's another overly obsessive thing of mine that we'll leave aside for now. Wordplay is enough to grind you down with for one blog.

Ben's suggested he may have enough material to send me weekly updates! I hope you look forward to that being proven as much as I do, eh.

A spot of frightseeing

My gothic chum Dave who I have spoken about in previous posts has gone and found me a real gem this week, and it's very apt, given his lifestyle.

If you'd like an alternative guided tour of London, then what better way to travel then by a haunted Routemaster? Who you gonna call? Ghost Bus Tours!



I LOVE that something like this exists! I like to picture the face of the person that came up with the name, and how excited they were to tell people about it. Tremendous. This one's nicely topped off with the sentence at the top, that reads "The squeals on the bus go round and round."

C'est bon! *pop*

Well cello there!

When I'm not busy collecting puns, I'm hard at work designing brochures for new housing estates. Yes, it's the rock n' roll lifestyle for me. I really do enjoy designing stuff though, so when my friend Rachel emailed me to do a logo for her cello classes for little kiddywinks I was happy to help. Not just because I knew it'd be a fun one to do, but because of the name she'd come up with:



Aww.. You can just see the snotty-nosed little bow-weevils now, can't you?

Souperman

There's something cruelly brilliant about a shop name that basically insults you while you're eating. Congratulations to Aaron for clocking this one for me:



Have that! You'd try to be angry at the kitchen, but darn that's a clever name. And the grub's not too shabby either! And even if you did consider complaining about it, you know what...?



NO SOUP FOR YOU!

News it or lose it

This one's been done to death before, but the Evil Dead / Obama crossover cover of the new comic from Antarctic Press is too good not to share with you!



Thanks to Ryan for sending me that.

In other news, The Dave House (of first Punning Man post fame) emailed me this morning with a Business-related pun, courtesy of the Big British Castle.



And finally, Jon and I are currently working on some skateboard / indie band crossover puns to go on the flyer for New Slam, a game of S.K.A.T.E that we're holding in a nightclub! Whatever next.

Here's a few pearls we've come up with so far:

Metr OW! - my knee!
Friendly Spitfires
The Flipettes
Dave Birdhouse
Shuvit Offend You, Yeah?
Kingpins of Leon
Grind the Bloc Party
Florence & The Toy Machine

Let me know if you come up with any!

Aberdeen stake house

We've a bit of a breakthrough this afternoon, dear readers, as The Punning Man goes (intentionally) international for the first time! Ok, so it's another submission on behalf of our be-kilted brothers, but as far as I'm concerned it's across the border so its inter-ruddy-national, RIGHT!? Super. Glad we cleared that up.

Dean emailed me a wee cracker today, taken while he was living on the the opposite side of Hadrian's Wall. It belonged to a bookies, and looks a little something like this:



Och aye the noo! Cheers Dean.

Derren lies de problem

On a recent holiday to France I devoured my way through Derren Brown's book, Tricks of the Mind. (I reccommend it thoroughly - It's a terrific read, even if you're not necessarily a fan of Mr Brown's work).

Though heavily peppered with fascinating insights, amusing tales and general brilliance, there is one part towards the end that stuck most in my mind; and a trick, it isn't. I'm sure you don't have to be a psychic (I predict you aren't, seeing as they're bigger charlatans than Tim Burgess) to work out what it could be. Correct! It was the four of hearts! No, hang on..

Allow me to set the scene. Derren had been confronted by a balshy businessman in a hotel in Swansea. The chap went on to tell him that The Derek Acorah was just across the room in the very same hotel! This was all too much for Derren's new best mate, who took it upon himself to introduce them, casting himself as the ring announcer.

Right, scene successfully set, I'll let the author take it from here:

"That is not Derek Acorah." I laughed, transfixed.
"Yes it is. I'll go and get him. Hey!"
He was already heading across the ten yards of orange and brown carpet which separated me from the guy with the peroxide hair. I tried to call quietly, "No! Don't!" but he had already reached his target who was talking to a couple of colleagues.
A lot of things went through my mind in a very short space of time. One of them was Christing hell, that is Derek Acorah. Another was, Hide! I considered running (away from the prying fan and into the foyer, as it were).

I had to stop typing for a minute there so I could applaud it once again. That's even more impressive than not topping yourself on telly, in my humbles. Makes you sick, doesn't it? Not content with being genuinely brilliant, an incredible artist and hauntingly charming, he's gone and banged out what was arguably Pun of The Year (2006).

I'd tell him what I really think, but he probably already knows, the git.

Property is buzzing again

Spotted this little one on a trip down to Brighton over the bank holiday weekend. Sadly there wasn't as big a haul as I thought there would be, though I didn't even have time to venture down through The Lanes. Hopefully next time I'll get to have a proper look.



Reminded me of a nice little gag I heard the other day though:

Why do anarchists only drink herbal tea?
Because proper tea is theft.

Bada-bum-tish.

The fabulous bacon boys

Swine flu, eh? The whole nations banging on about it, aren't they? It's all Arnold Schwarzenegger tweets on about too. The newspapers are just glad they can stop running the phrase "Credit Cruch" on the front cover for once.

And, there's also the chance to write a headline like:

APORKALYPSE NOW

Boom-bang-a-bang! Thank's to Ged for sending that one in. I tried to give the reporter a ring to congratulate him, but the line must've been down cos all I got was crackling.