Beef

Here's our beef with this stupid movie, Batman & Robin.

Alfred is 107. Alfred's niece, Alicia Silverstone is 20. Assuming Alfred's Mother (who would be around the age of 177 if she didn't die of the common cold) gave birth to Alfred sister within a plausible time frame of 10 years, Alicia Silverstone's Mum would have given birth to Alicia Silverstone at the age of 97!! or 117 if she was Alfred's elder sister.

Here's our beef with old people:

We think the dawn of the social media generation has warped all the minds of the Baby Boomers who keep claiming that they weren't like that when they were growing up. Facebook has made all these oldies catch Alzheimer's and forget what they did as children. It's unfortunate that the social commentators and politicians were massive nerdburgers and didn't get invited to cool parties, because then, they'd be all about the parties. We are all about the parties, unfortunately we cannot host a party in a room that can house 11 people. Imagine if 2000 showed up! We would run out of punch.

When Shrieking Babes strike at 2am

We had come to believe since the beginnings of the Batcave that we had settled in a nice neighbourhood, where John Howard goes for his morning walk and the only signs of crime are from the amount of foliage entering our gutters. But alas, it is not true. After the events of last weekend, which we thought were all just a distant fond memory, there comes a new hellish story. Last night there was an all new event for us to write about. Fortunately for you all it does not include copious amounts of kitchen sex. We assume that the behaviour over the last few weeks has something to do with the moon, for no particular reason, but for our sakes we hope it stops so we can return to our normal lives of drinking and watching hilarious TV programs.

Basically, the setout of the Batcave has one side fronting the neighbours abode, whilst the other side is basically in a little alcove where nothing of note happens. all the good stuff happens next door, and last night was no exception. Usually there is some Tomfoolery of the drunk babe type, with a little bit of noise which seems to wither away as the night goes on. But we will begin our story at 1:53am, when we were awoken with the sounds of conversation

1:53am: Apart from the usual screams of delight coming from the Crowie, there were a few other sounds emanating from the night last night. Distinctively, it was drunk drivel. And it was coming from next door. It sounded like a hobo had began door knocks, with the sounds coming from his mouth not actually being words but more just drunk ramblings, but we assume he was trying to sell vacuum cleaners to our next door neighbours. Unfortunately for him, he was trying to sell his vacuum cleaners to the Po Po.

1:56am: Shrieks. Piercing Shrieks fill the air. Just a drunk babe, God only knows what she was banging on about, but she sounded like she was involved in the vacuum cleaner sales, and she was a very aggressive saleswoman. On a side note, judging from her shrieks we thought she was about 5'4 brunette hot babe.

2:01am: Screaming. Piercings Screams of "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" fill the air. This was repeated every 3-4 seconds as the Portly blonde woman was being thrown into the back of the paddywagon. To her credit she did resist like a Sri Lanken Militant, but in the end she was thrown in. But that didnt stop her from trying to kick her way out.

2:03am: After witnessing these events through the window (like a 75 year old neighbourhood watch candidate) and the crowd which had gather dispersed, the hood was back to it's normal self with rainbows and freshly cut meadows rolling down the hill. The Po Po had saved the day and we were all safe again


Just another night in Compton.

Also, the awkward moment you find relatives on Youtube

When Sex Offenders strike at 2am

Unfortunately this post will be quite vulgar. It will contain explicit detail on why the Batcave's premier seating location will be burnt to the ground, and why the kitchen needs to be bleached beyond recognition.

Here is a step by step timeline of the events that concluded in a Batcave that resembles more of a brothel than a home.

12:30am: Batcavers and colleagues arrive home, after a wholesome night of rugby, followed by innocent loitering in a Paddington pub.
1:00am: Bedtime, Hooray!!!
2:00am: All hell broke loose. City Lemsipper, Little Green Door and accomplice arrive with partying in their hearts and vodka in their hands.  People were woken and the peace was broken as bedrooms were invaded in a Kony style rampage.
3:17am: This is the time when the sex offenders decided it was high time to stop drinking and start fucking.  The foreplay started with sock puppetry, which soon evolved to sex in various locations around the Batcave, including sex on top of my business sock.  The kitchen is now called the Sex Forest, the nice lounge is now the Sex Dump, and the bathroom; Sex Hell.
3:45am: Little Green Door was spotted crawling from the kitchen in her birthday suit, looking lost and confused.  In a daze, she was handed a shirt to cover her shame. City Lemsipper was also spotted prowling around in his underwear looking for his next victim; a scene reminiscent of the famous Big Foot footage.
4:17am: After an hour of frivolity and desecration, the sex romp rolled into the bathroom.  We barricaded our bedroom doors and sat in fear, as the sound of witchcraft and wizardry reverberated through the walls - the clickety clack of heels and cackling laughter of City Lemsipper chilled us to the bone.
4:40am: The sex offenders left, not before the kitchen was a declared war zone and the microwave was no longer fit for cooking.

Thanks for coming over gronks.

9:00am: Not knowing if it was all just a horrible nightmare, we awoke to find the couch covered in dirty sex rags.  Jizz and squirt covered the floor - not a surface was spared.   Basically our family home looking all kinds of fucked up.

9:30am: Went to breakfast to discuss why we have great friends.

And that's about it. City Lemsipper........you menace. But on a positive note for you, you have been awarded the Batcave Merit Star of Excellence for gathering all the ingredients of a sexy Lez-off. Kutos to you

London Olympics Update: Tickets still onsale for Table Tennis

Review #1 Hunger Games
Starring: Kids and Woody Harrelson
What Happens: You heard it here first, Hunger Games will be bigger than Harry Potter and a box full of vampires combined!! It tells the story of a girl who is good at archery and she has to go to the Olympics because she is so good. It's set around the time just before Robin Hood made it big in the archery world. Anyway because it is the Ancient Olympics archery is basically murdering people. But they don't put archers against archers, they put them against kids that are good at throwing rocks, and also children with the healing power of laughter. It all comes together after a whole movie of training videos to show a battle to the death. The winner gets to eat a roast dinner. Thus Hunger Games. Also the best part is that they are all children, so they are still limber and can run really fast.
What we think: If we could go to Hogwarts we would, If we could be as pasty as that kid from Twilight, well we wouldn't be, but according to E! News he goes alright with the babes, so in the end we would be vampires. Would we want to kill people for a roast dinner? Arrrrgghhh, where do we sign up? Unfortunately age restrictions might put a stopper on our plans
Score: 16 Bullseye's out of A Box Full of Vampires

Pie

Here's Just one more reason why we are better than you

Are those Lancashire Pigs?

Once again we write through the eyes of sobriety, and as per our usual clauses and sub-clauses, our brilliant style of creative writing cannot be condemned for this reason. But we are getting quite good at most things, including life, so we are sure that the next portion of dribble will satisfy your need to want to stop reading and then forget you ever heard of anything called a Batcave. We are going back to our grass roots and just reviewing somethings for you, which we know you enjoy, especially you guys at Single Crowd.

Review #1 Hayden Orpheum
Where: Cremorne
What is it: It is, in essence, a Cinema. But it totals as an experience.
What Happened: The Hayden Orpheum is basically a cinema. It is also a time warp. Once you walk through the doors you step back in time to when you could go see a film, also get a newsreel, slurp down a delicious creaming soda and then have a box of Popcorn. In the 30's this would have cost a nickel. Today its costs an effing bomb!! But don't let that discourage you, because you aren't even in the cinema yet. Once you take out your mortgage at 9%, you go to this narrow room with a quaint little screen and an array of posh people with things to say like "We'll find that on the web". Plus they bring they're own rugs to the cinema to sit under in case they get cold, the poor dears. The Hayden Orpheum has an open rug policy. It can be found on their website, maybe. The next exciting adventure that you take part in is the ads. Usually at your run of the mill Hoyts or Readings you'll get half an hour of dribble about some guys car yard and then you get the previews, usually some exciting movie that you may want to watch in the future. If you're at the Orpheum, forget it! We now know when the Opera is on for the next year and a half, the exciting future of French Cinema through our now intimate knowledge of a month long French Film Festival and that the Crows Nest pharmacy is open til 10pm 365 days a year. The movie was quite alright. After two hours of being confused about a plot that was awash with mystery and dry English acting, we left. Having survived the artsy fartsy community and there rug wearing ways. A special note goes out to those super posh people who stayed to read the credits, loving that there favourite gaffer and best boy was involved in the movie.
Score: Ummmmm 6 Cinemas out of 18 french films. It was alright but it was heaps expenno and I can't handle people who don't call it the internet.

Review #2 Playing 2 Games of Touch in one Night

Kill. Us. Now. If the bathtub at the cave was big enough to house anything bigger than a new born baby, it would be filled with ice and then ice baths would commence. The problem with running is that once you stop, you get sore. And then all your muscles hurt, and then you go to town on a whole tube of dancorub. Plus now we have to stay up til the wee hours to digest our food because we ate too late. First world problems. But problems none-the-less.

Good Night Party Criminals, also go see Project X and get amped for parties, there might be another Batcave Party coming soon, so keep an eye out for that one, along with the childrens book, about ducks and Nazis, and possibly Sharks.

Proudly Sponsored by Joseph Kony

This dude is a Total Gronk

We don't do this often, or at all really, but here's a community service announcement. The guy above, who looks like he could have been out of the cult classic Cool Runnings, steals kids. Not baby goats, little Humans. And as such we are jumping on the Kony 2012 Bandwagon. Obviously by sponsoring this blog, Kony has made at least one correct decision in his life. 

As an added bonus to the seriousness, here's some more serious stuff.

Review: Bat Cave Launch Party 03/02/2012 

Where: The residence formerly known as "The Bat Cave"

What happened: Well, the dreary night outside meant that the partay had to be confined to the insides of the cave. We cooked our guests a delicious meal of sausages and salad, which they asked for more of. Some of our guests, we won't name names, took it upon themselves to create a creek in our kitchen which was mainly made up of Martini and mud, whilst others just sat around drinking Lemsip (Lemsip city slickers). The bath tub was filled with ice, which costed a freaking bomb, we should have just filled the washing machine, and then the Captain Morgans/ Sailor Jerry came out and that was the beginning of the end. Well the end of a civilized quiet drinks with friends anyway. There was smashed glasses, mud trekked through the place, a smell of liquor and an inability to do up ones shoelaces. All roads lead to the Crowie, but unfortunately for one of us, the Crowie was just one step too far as an immediate denial of entry took place, and not even a bribe of $2.25 could fix that.

Score: As far as parties go, it was OK. Just quiet drinks with friends. Nothing of value was broken, only our spirits. The mess was certified A-Grade, as the place looked like there had been some sort of wild animal sacrifice ritual. Most of the party criminals we invited showed up, I say most, some had to go to weddings....apparently to watch a Rootfest go down when they were supposed to just kiss. I don't really know Jesus, but if that went down in our house, we would not be happy campers!! Or would we........There were no celebrities so we get minus 1 point for that, and there were no strippers so minus 1 billion points for that, but we heard someone laugh at one stage, so we'll take that as we are hilarious and excellent party hosts and give ourselves 1 billion and 1 point. So the final Score is 1 Batcave Launch Party out of It's Never Happening Again.

And that concludes another outstanding edition of our fine writings. Once again, a reminder to stay tuned for our children's book about ducks. It'll be great.

2012 London Olympics Tickets

Well it's March. We've been writing this blog for 7 months now, and we have 6 followers. I also know for a fact that these followers don't really keep updated on the going ons, so who the heck are these 2800 people who have visited this blog? Let me inform you, its SPAM. Unless 678 people from russia have learnt some English and regularly tune in for, just, such a great read, then it is SPAM. I wonder how the link was formed between Spiced Ham, and rubbish in your inbox. I bet the producers of SPAM had something to do with it, I mean free coverage and all. Who eats SPAM though, we don't know...

Anyway, back to out plight, we write this absolutely glorious works of art all the time, and it's hard, our fingers are really sore from writing them, so tell your friends, and celebrities. If we get a celebrity on board then we will definately become famous. And then we can retire to a glorious boat, possibly buy the Chelsea Football Club and make them play for match payments. We don't even go for Chelsea, but they need to sort their lives out.

Here's some things that happened since last time:

- We are in the Foo Fighters film clip, see if you can spot us http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDVAQI-4lto&ob=av2e

- Davy Jones died. He had a heart attack cos he remembered how much trim he scored when he was in the Monkees.

- We found out Mike Whitney, the star of our recent post, is in fact a man who prefers the company of men. On looking back, it was quite obvious to suspect this, I mean come on, he's left handed.

- We found out we had bad grammar, at least we contribute to society.

And that's all she wrote sports fans, just a quick little update to get you through 2 minutes of your lives. When we come up with more ground-breaking ideas you will be the first to know. In particular, there may or may not be a childrens book on the way. we don't want to give to much away in terms of a plot, but there might be a duck and he might be fighting Nazi's. But that's just a rumour.

Later Friends