The Whole Caboodle

A Review of the Wisdom in Letting Your Boyfriend Pose as a Girl on the Internet

Tue, 10 May 2011 17:17:00 -0400

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a good internet connection must at one point pose as a girl online. Whether he admits to it is another matter entirely, as this kind of behaviour is subject to some of the greatest prejudice and ridicule the internet can offer (putting that guy right behind Furries and Youtube commenters). This is most likely because a man doesn’t wish to find, having spent all night flirting with a lady who gives frequent reports on her boobs and her love of bisexuality, that he has, in reality, been romancing a teenage boy called Ryan.

However, when you are in a relationship, you should never consider yourself to be under such constraints, and that was how it was with us. Josey Moses and I decided to start a dating profile as an experiment, a source of amusement, and something unusual to do as a couple. The profile features a highly incoherent commentary accompanied by a photo of a Korean pop star. I work in an office every day, while Josey Moses works from home; on his new illustration business, and on our South Korean popstar, and her almost incomprehensible interactions with male admirers.

She is a lovable girl, or rather, Josey Moses has expanded on a lovable alter-ego we created together, who tells men off for sending short messages and who loves reggae music and meteorology. The positives are that my boyfriend is stretching his creative wings by articulating a unique character of the opposite gender (which is great practice for his work), and he gets to see what being a girl on a dating site is like (having your inbox saturated with messages, most of which have been sent by idiots, essayists, perverts or men claiming to be “vagitarian”). The downside is that he spends part of his day pretending to be a woman on a dating website. If you’re the sort of girlfriend that every dude with a good internet connection desires to have, you will find yourself viewing it with a mixture of mirth and acceptance.

Amen to that.

Posted by Felicitricity

Chocolate Spread

Mon, 02 May 2011 07:53:00 -0400

It’s lunchtime and you didn’t eat breakfast. You’ve been doing housework all day, looking forward to finishing so you can sit down with a cup of tea and a sandwich. There is some crusty bread in the kitchen, and it has been calling out to you for hours. You put the vacuum cleaner down and head to the cupboard. You reach your arm in and pull out the perfect accompaniment to delicious bread: chocolate spread. Spread it on thick and dig in.

Ran out of chocolate spread on a Monday at one,

a-singin’ do lolly, lolly, shicky bum, shicky bum.

Started gettin’ real blue on a Tuesday at two,

a-singin’ do lolly, lolly, what to do, what to do?

Wednesday at three I called the local grocery,

singin’ “Hey there baby, just a-give me what I need.”

It’s midnight and you’re having a bad dream in which you’re married to John Malkovic or Oprah. The embarrassment, as you walk around the supermarket with them, is unbearable, and you scream out loud when you realise that you’re in all of the magazines as the pitiable spouse. You wake up in a sweat. Oh sweet Jesus on a bike, it wasn’t real, you think. How on earth are you going to get back to sleep now? You lean over to your bedside table and dunk your index finger into a big jar of Nutella. Such dreamy delight!

Thursday at four he came a-knockin’ at my door, singin’

“Hey there baby, I’m your Nutella man.

You just show me where you want it and I’ll put it where I can

I can spread it on your crumpet, I spread put it on your buns

I can spread it on my hotdog, we can have a little fun

You can have it with some butter, you can have some margarine,

And if you really want it, you can have some triple cream

Because-a hey there baby, I’m your Nutella man.”

It’s the swimming championship final and you’re in the changing rooms getting ready for the race. It’s been a long and arduous journey, getting to this point. The hours of hard training have put considerable strain on your body and mind, but it’s days like this that make it all worth it. There is a huge crowd waiting outside and you want to give them something to cheer for, but there’s a problem. You haven’t shaved your legs in a month and you’ve forgotten your shaving gel at home. Hairy legs could add seconds to your time, and those seconds could mean the difference between first and second place. There’s only one thing for it. You reach into your gym bag and pull out a jar of chocolate spread. You slather it thickly all over your legs and go to work with the razor. Now there’s nothing in the way and victory is yours to take.

Josey Moses

Review of the Royal Wedding

Sat, 30 Apr 2011 08:59:44 -0400

What dignity! What glory! The lavish ceremony yesterday was a fantastic chance for proud Britons to see the Royal Family in their finest garb, behaving in the only way that we would expect them to. Everyone was pleased to see that Prince Phillip was largely able to restrain himself from making inappropriate comments, although he was heard to exclaim loudly that Princess Beatrice’s hat was “like the bleached anus of Beelzebub himself”.

The commoners who had been invited to the wedding all arrived sober and well dressed, assuaging the Queen’s fears that it would turn into something like My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. William looked dashing enough to make all the young ladies swoon, and Kate’s dress was classic and with a lot of room to move in the skirt, which was probably what helped to save her life when the zombie outbreak occurred.

You’d think that all the tax money spent on security would mean that they’d be able to at least exclude the walking dead from the cathedral for the duration of the ceremony, but it was apparently not something that they had a contingency plan for. According to security reports, the Queen Mother arrived at the same time as the other royal guests to watch the wedding, which alarmed everyone as she had sadly passed away in 2002. After she attacked two other guests and a member of security, other guards were able to control the outbreak, restraining the Queen Mother in the back of a recently vacated limousine.

The ceremony continued, but as the happy couple stepped up to take their vows, the bishop (who had been looking a little green around the gills) slumped to the floor and then reanimated moments later, to the horror of the royal couple. Luckily, they were able to defend themselves with the improvised weapons available, with William seizing a flower display stand and Kate using one of her high heels. We at The Whole Caboodle deeply respect their performance under such pressure, and hope that they can reorganise their wedding ceremony soon.

Review of Waking Up... With a Girl!

Tue, 26 Apr 2011 17:24:00 -0400

If you’re familiar with the spin-off television series Angel, you may remember the episode in which the vampire detective becomes a human for the day. For the first time since he was bitten, he is able to wake up in the morning next to Buffy, his forbidden companion. As he drinks his morning coffee, he peers in on his blonde beauty and admires the way her hair is splayed across the pillow in angelic fashion. A warm glow enfolds the bed, as though it too is a gift from heaven. This scene typifies the way that we, as a global-sop collective, have romanticised the idea of waking up with our lovers.

There is a kind of romance to be found in sharing your waking self with another, but not because of how pretty you look when you’re sleeping. Let me assure you, with drool hanging from crusty lips, yellow gloop in your eyes and breath to scare dogs away, you do not look pretty, and neither will your partner, but that’s precisely where the romance lies. Who else would you share your most gnarly moments with, but someone you trusted beyond doubt? As you enjoy that much-touted morning sex, you do it safe in the knowledge that your girlie has felt your nightfarts vibrating against the mattress throughout snuggletime and still finds you attractive enough to do it with you. If you stick together after that, then perhaps it’s love.

Josey Moses

Review of Brighton by Gaz (the seagull)

Fri, 22 Apr 2011 09:14:41 -0400

It’s great living in Brighton when you’re a seagull. I used to come here with my mates on the weekend and we’d just fly about trying to poo on cars and old ladies. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not thugs, we’re just lads who like to have fun. There are plenty of clubs in Brighton, but they usually don’t let you in if you’re not wearing shoes. I always get turned away by the bouncers, but that’s OK because I just go home and get an early night. I wake up at dawn, you see, so I can shout and wake all my mates up. Then it’s a new day!

Brighton has a great culture too. There are always trendy bands hanging about. Last week, I saw the lads from Sapphic Love Triangle outside some cafe that never even lets me chill on its tables. They didn’t respond when I shouted so I went down and said hello by helping myself to a chip or two. They greeted me with enthusiastic shouts and then I decided to fly down to the beach for the rest of the day.

All in all, I’ve never been happier than when in Brighton. It’s a great place to hang out with your mates, and if you love the birds then I definitely recommend it, if you know what I mean.

Body Hair

Sun, 10 Apr 2011 17:23:00 -0400

Body hair comes in a wide range of varieties, but perhaps the most versatile form is head hair. On top of being able to use it to keep your important brain warm, you can grow it long enough to heat your ears, neck and even nipples (although in the latter case The Whole Caboodle recommends the use of a jumper instead). You can also use it to signal things to the people around you; with a variety of blades and dyes, you can pretend to be part of any social movement in the world. Instant community!

It’s also the body hair that’s most socially acceptable to customise- your Gran may approve of your new haircut but she’ll be shocked by your new bikini wax- but maybe it’s more surprise at the fact you’ve just dropped your trousers in front of her. Your hairstyle has another and quite delightful advantage in that foreigners can use it to differentiate you from your visually similar peers.

On the other end of the spectrum, foot hair is rarely exposed and so it carries less importance in terms of identification and social definition. The only time the presence, absence or styling of your foot hair may allow for your easy classification is at a fantasy cosplay convention. If your naked feet are hirsute, you must be a hobbit! If they are waxed smooth, I guess you’re an elf or some other race that doesn’t have gnarly hairy feet or something. Someone needs to invent a fantasy race of seductive beauties with braided toe hair.

Yes, some hair may have gained a bad rap in recent times, but when used in reasonable amounts, I would recommend it. It can be effective in both a practical and aesthetic sense. Just don’t go around showing your grandmother your pubes.

Overall rating: Cousin Itt/77

Felicitricity (pictured above)

Review of Girly Bed Sheets (for boys)

Sat, 09 Apr 2011 12:09:00 -0400

If you are a real lad, or just poor, you will only have one set of bed sheets. They will be plain; one simple colour; designed to emit a powerful sense of raw masculinity. Unbeknownst to you, they will also emit a powerful scent of raw masculinity in the form of sweaty manjigglies and anal exhalations. You will feel instantly at ease, engulfed in these fragrances, and you will fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that you are a real lad.

However, there comes a point in every man’s life when he must grab his Zs beneath flowery, pink or patterned bed sheets. It will occur most often after you have moved in with your girlfriend, who will have at least five pretty duvet covers handed down from her grandmother, or if you’re still living with your mummy. Both of these lovely ladies will change the bed sheets when you’re out at the pub, simply because they find the innocent banoffee pie stains to be too embarrassing to bear any longer.

You will notice numerous differences when sleeping in a girly bed. Don’t be surprised to find nice smells, such as Washing Powder and Perfume. The sheets won’t be crusty. They will lack the cozy toe-hole that you’ve grown attached to. You will find it difficult to accept, though, and you will never admit it to anybody else, but you will soon feel exceptionally fortunate to get to sleep in such a bed. You will feel protected and refreshed by the giant lilac carnations that slide over your body and seduce you into a peaceful slumber. Wriggle your legs, just to feel the soft cotton rub against your skin. Isn’t it luxurious? You may want to have a good cry as you scratch the dingleberries off of your bottom. Not for any particular reason, but just to get the tears out of your system. Perhaps you can discuss any emotions that do arise with your girlfriend before rolling onto your side and letting her spoon you.

When you awake from dreamland (in which you are a velvety unicorn and you have to eat all of the candy to save the tiny puppies from turning into balloons), you must remind yourself of one thing. This is not your natural habitat. You are the grubby traveler, invited to spend one night in the castle. Remember?

Josey Moses

Review of a Builder

Sat, 09 Apr 2011 07:04:00 -0400

This delightful model comes from the ‘Glory of Britain’ range, which also includes ‘Joyless Commuter’, ‘Racist Cockney Geezer’ and ‘Eccentric Lady on Bus’. Following new EU directives, all models are now made without toxic materials.

‘Builder Working Right Outside the Window’ comes in two different designs; wearing a ‘Man U’ t-shirt for the more conservative collecters, and ‘going shirtless’ for appreciators of a more avant-garde approach. The latter design comes in pasty white but will turn lobster pink if left in the sun.

Why not use ‘Builder Working Right Outside the Window’ to enliven your home or even your office? His sturdy charms will inspire camaraderie in all, as well as some pleasant tingling in the hearts of the chubby chasers among us. As you examine the figure that drinks tea as he leans against unfinished scaffolding, you will experience a warm glow, safe in the knowledge that the task he is shirking is not being paid for by you (or is that a governmental building?)

Connoisseurs will be delighted with the delicate filigree of his belly hair, whilst even the newest collectors will find themselves unable to take their eyes off his impressive torso girth. This model has been created with the greatest attention to realism- his expression of sullenness at having to work mixed with pleasure at being able to do so in the sunshine is just wonderful All of your ladyfriends will be impressed by this fine figure of a man. What’s more, he is suffering from strict new anti-harassment rules laid down by his employer, so he won’t whistle or gaze lasciviously at your guests and colleagues. What a treat! Hurry and buy before the sunstroke hospitalises him!

Felicitricity

A Review of Mick Jagger's Face (for mountaineers)

Thu, 07 Apr 2011 08:53:00 -0400

Climbing Mick Jagger’s face doesn’t come with the same level of kudos as, say, a Barbara Streisand or Sarah Jessica Parker, simply because his nose isn’t as steep or tall, yet it was no surprise that experienced climbers voted him as their top choice for Challenging Terrains in this year’s Rockface Magazine survey. For years, the breaks and bulges that form Jagger’s cheeks, forehead and nose have provided a stern test for all comers.

The approach itself, along a neck that is fast losing its stability, is graded as Hard Very Difficult, with very few pathways available for beginners or intermediates. This means that, whilst countless travellers have famously explored Jagger’s body, his face remains a place that most people fear to go. Climbers are urged to negotiate the steep but steady Adam’s Apple Boulder rather than attempt the sagging and unpredictable outskirts.

If you can avoid being swallowed up by one of the folds in Jagger’s neck, you will discover, first-hand, the terrifying beauty of one of the most untouched faces the world has to offer. It really is a rock climber’s wonderland. No matter what your speciality - climbing, traversing, bouldering, bridging or abseiling - Jagger will push you to your very limits. So what makes this face so notoriously dangerous? Whereas other faces incline gradually and seamlessly towards the tip of the nose, Jagger sports an unprecedented magnitude of extreme downclimbs. To get anywhere, you will first have to conquer a series of huge, life-threatening drops before climbing up the other side.

Advice to newcomers would be to keep a map close at hand. Whilst most faces are symmetrical and easy to negotiate, Jagger does not follow any such logic. You might think you are ascending to the nose, but if you are not careful, you will find yourself deep inside one of the crevices of his eyebags. Thanks to his tough, leathery skin, it really is hard to know where you are half the time.

This location is a Must for all serious climbers and a Must Avoid for everybody else. Go at your peril.

Josey Moses

Review of My Dreams

Wed, 06 Apr 2011 14:27:42 -0400

There is a mansion full of people striving to keep a little girl out of a drawer of scissors. All my friends can perform inception, and I keep on getting strange ideas about what I want to do for them. Alex Pettyfer tells me that I have hairy boobs and when I look down, I am shocked at how much hair is poking out of my top. What is this bumf? It can only come from my dreams.

My dreams have been running for quite some time now-23 years this October- but even the casual observer will note that there has been little evolution over time. Aside from the obligatory introduction of the darker the darker themes that every series delves into in an attempt to engage an increasingly jaded audience, my dreams have never developed a sense of consistency and clarity that really makes the experience memorable. It is immensely frustrating to teeter on the brink of a perverse emotional epiphany only to have all recollection of the experience erased by the catchy strains of a Lady Gaga alarm clock (which is co-incidentally a product that would receive high praise from everyone at The Whole Caboodle except Josey Moses).

One problem an audience may have with my dreams is that they are so boorishly out of touch with reality. While other productions are keen to make reference to (or even represent) current events, my dreams rarely hint at the fact that I frequently expose myself to the outside world. No, not in that way. Instead, my dreams opt to return to the same frivolous themes over and over again, rarely approaching the depth of meaning we’d like to see.

However, this thematic silliness does occasionally produce something glorious in its wackiness. Who hasn’t wanted to comfort Kanye West with a puppy? Who hasn’t wished they could battle a giant squid in a flooded colosseum? It’s certainly something I’ve dreamed of doing.

Image depicts squid fight.

Felicitricity

Review of The Whole Caboodle

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 10:54:00 -0400

What is this?

Tumblr is an excellent website, chock-a-block with entertaining blogs, rib-tickling comics and graphic sexual images, but The Whole Caboodle must not have been told. The main premise is seriously dubious. Who wants to know what two hapless English degree victims think about such inconsequential things as the apple they’ve just eaten or their grandfather’s kneecaps? Here’s a guess: nobody. The page itself, designed by a professional, is pretty enough, but there is no actual content here whatsoever, only an unnecessary insult towards our very own tumblrbot and an extensive ‘About Me’ section that fails miserably at being funny and has one of the authors demanding that we “Follow, Reblog and Like”. Yeah, right…

10 out of 77

Josey Moses

WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 09:23:31 -0400

Oh shut up, tumblrbot!