Listener Tam has written in with a home-grown alternative to accessories made from sharks’ teeth or ivory or whalebone. Take a look at the picture. Can you tell what the pale-coloured beads are made from? No? Read on to find out:
In an earlier podcast, you were discussing a mother saving her baby’s teeth and whether it was appropriate or not for her to share this with friends. Helen commented in a joking manner that, “What was the mother going to do? Make jewelry out of them?”
Of course she could. I had foot surgery several years ago for a condition called hammer toe. My toes were all bunched up and curled under my foot, making it painful at times to walk. So, to fix this issue, a surgeon cut all of the tendons under all off my toes, and then, on five toes, had to remove the middle toe knuckle; three on the left foot, two on the right. I was awake for the two surgeries and watched the entire process. It only took about a half an hour for each foot, they put me in a surgical boot and I walked right out.
However, I thought that it would be wonderful to have a unique souvenir to show for my trauma. So I kept the knuckles. Once I came home, my husband boiled them to get the meat off, and drilled them for me. My mum gave me some rather fitting beads to make a lovely necklace.
So you see, baby teeth are really no big deal. It’s all in perspective.
That’s right – in perspective of having to BOIL YOUR HUMAN FLESH off your OWN BONES. Did you get the idea from Jeffrey Dahmer’s Etsy store?
As well as the above picture of the finished necklace, Tam kindly included photos of the process prior to completion. Because I don’t want to make casual browsers puke till next Tuesday, you’ll have to click through if you wish to see Tam’s foot pre-surgery, her blood-soaked post-operative appendage, or her disembodied toe-knuckles.
Listeners, over the years you’ve treated us to pictures of your necrotic legs, infected piercings and Satanic effigies. Not wishing to seem ungrateful, but you ARE welcome to send us pictures of things that aren’t leaking pus and blood.
On alternate Thursdays when there’s no new episode of AMT, we have ourselves a listening party. Tell us: what have you been piping into your ears, dears?
• If the imminent end of the Winter Olympics has you jonesing for MORE SPORT, treat yourself to the AMT Sports Day.
• I tell a true tale of DEATH, FAMILY BETRAYAL and TYPOS on the Spark London podcast, available on iTunes and Mixcloud:
• For more true stories, check out Radio 4’s Short Cuts, hosted by star of AMT84 Josie Long.
• And if you have the thirst for even more true stories, quench with Lea Thau’s Strangers.
• The Savage Love podcast is always educational. This week I’ve learnt what a ‘unicorn’ means. I’ve led such a sheltered life.
• Jessica ‘Lucille Bluth/mad Misty from Play Misty for Me/Malory Archer’ Walter on Bullseye? Yes please.
Hey! Listeners! What are you doing here? Throw your internet devices to the floor and sprint to Chelmsford in order to be second in the queue (behind this week’s questioneer Melanie) at the new Dunkin’ Donuts opening tomorrow in Chelmsford!
Or if you don’t give many shits about that, sit tight and listen to Answer Me This! Episode 283 instead:
Today we speak of:
coffee beans
giving people ‘the tour’
Terry’s Chocolate Orange
Bruno Mars
sushi vinegar
C3P(ost)O(ffice)
close-up Christopher Lee
Red Hot Chili Peppers
red hot chilli peppers IHOP vs NASA
the Duracell Bunny vs the Energizer Bunny
Barbie vs Bratz
sad second-rate Sindy
and
the politics of Polly Pocket.
In this week’s Bit of Crap on the App (install it on your iDevices, Android and Windows gadgets), we wonder why Heston Blumenthal has not yet mass-produced a meat-filled chocolate orange. Not that we want one.
We do want your QUESTIONS, though: leave voicemails on the Question Line (call 0208 123 5877 or Skype ID answermethis) and deliver emails to answermethispodcast@googlemail.com.
Thanks to Squarespace.com for funding this episode; use the code answer2 to snag a 10% discount off their services for a whole year.
We’ll be back on 27th February; in the meantime, listen to Olly on the now-national LBC and Helen on the international-despite-the-name Spark London podcast and Martin on his intergalactic noise-platform.
Byeeee!
Helen & Olly
AMT283 Child-Friendly Rating: 38%. Some swears. Olly talks about his burning genitalia. Speculation about Mrs Pepperpot’s sex life, but in terms a child hopefully won’t fully understand. Intermission features colourful semen. Reference to a Prince Albert that you may have trouble explaining to your youngling.
I must warn you that this post contains trigger subjects, as well as the following conundrum from Ed from Oxford :
I like the work of Eric Gill. Maybe you do too? Maybe you like his carvings, like Ariel on Broadcasting House, or his typefaces, like Gill Sans. Maybe. In any case, if you live in England (or read printed text) you’ve probably seen some of his stuff; he was pretty prolific.
He was also, it turns out, an awful man, with an energetically and eclectically abusive sex life that included his daughter and his dog.
So answer me this: when is it OK to enjoy the great art of awful people? (Or the Operation Yewtree version of the question: the mediocre art of allegedly awful people.)
‘When is it OK’? Do you mean times like when I’m looking at the BBC logo, or official written matter from the British or Spanish governments, or the cover of a classic Penguin paperback, and I think, “I sure am relieved they used Gill Sans rather than Comic Sans, even if dude was a self-confessed sex criminal”? Surely the question is: “Is it OK to enjoy the great art of awful people?” And is there a sliding scale where the greater the art, the more awful acts the artist can get away with?
A few years ago I visited a farm in Kenya where they had turkeys. The turkey-keeper, who seemed a trustworthy man, told me that turkeys change colour when they are angry or stressed, and if they are killed in this state of distress their meat will be poisoned. Because of this, turkeys have to be calmed down before they are killed.
I have just told this (what-I-considered-to-be) fact to some friends while eating a roast dinner. None of them believed me, so I turned to the internet, but failed to find anything substantial to evidence this. Please can you answer me this: is the meat of angry turkeys poisoned? Please say yes so I can prove my friends are the fools rather than me.
Now I KNOW that, amongst the diverse AMT listeners, there is at least one turkey farmer. Even if the turkey-slaughter takes place off-site, surely turkey farmers still have a wealth of information to share with us about turkeys’ emotions and the toxic potential thereof; so I beg any turkey farmers, or other turkey experts, to go to the comments to illuminate.
A fishmonger in Sydney fish market once informed me that if a fish feels pain or distress in its final moments, its flesh becomes flooded with adrenaline, which makes it less tasty. Maybe turkeys have taken this a step further. If the turkey goes, it’s taking its enemies down with it.
Although this is one of AMT’s resting weeks, we wouldn’t leave you with only the sound of silence* to listen to. You can always hear us doing our regular radio gigs: Olly on LBC every weekday 1am-4am, me on BBC 5 Live’s Saturday Edition every weekend, or whenever you want in its subsequent incarnation as the podcast Let’s Talk About Tech.
Here’re some other noisy things for you:
In this month’s Sound Women podcast, Isy Suttie and Caroline Raphael let me peek under the petticoat of radio comedy:
Here’s the latest music podcast from Martin The Sound of the Ladies Man:
On Stand Up Tragedy‘s ‘Tragic Beginnings’, I talk about one of Britain’s most underwhelming military campaigns, with backing music from AMT jingleer Jay Foreman:
It’s delightful to discover that AMT has provoked something in a listener other than irritation. Vincent writes:
Whilst merrily working my way through your previous podcasts, I was inspired by one of your answers, about cultural identity and clothing, to create a brand new range of wall art. (Podcast number 232 at 17:58 to be precise, in response to a question about French stereotypes.)
The range is called Mappliqué (see what I did there? Map and Appliqué!), and you inspired me to create fabric maps that use relevant fabrics to represent each region, for example, pinstripe for England, Tartan for Scotland, etc. Amazingly, a quick Google search showed that no-one else had thought of the idea so thank you for inspiring it.
Answer me this:
Are there any other ventures inspired by Answer Me This! that you know of, or is this the first one?
You could be like Dragons’ Den in reverse – the Dragons have no humour, destroy ideas that come before them and suck the life out of a room, whereas Answer Me This! inspires ideas and brings joy into the world! (Deborah Meaden power-suit optional for Helen.)
Can it be possible, readers? Have we somehow brought out your entrepreneurial streaks? If so, tell us about your business ventures in the comments. Although we must state that if said ventures failed, causing your financial/emotional/physical demise, we are NOT liable.
NB this is not a paid endorsement; Vincent just appealed to our vanity, so we appeal to you to check out his wares at mapplique.com, because look! Pretty:
What would YOU like to be buried in, listeners? A solid gold sarcophagus? A Zorb ball? A burlap sack? Contemplate this issue whilst listening to Answer Me This! Episode 282:
In which we discuss:
coffins vs caskets
coriander* vs carbonara
statues vs sculptures**
Leonardo DiCaprio vs Norman Lamont
sweaty sportswear
Americano coffee
Lincoln Logs
film soundtracks
sexy parrots
jamoke Jesse Honey vs flags of the world
the price of Lego Ron Mueck
and
an update to the Mastermind chair?
Plus: Olly probably doesn’t want to be served up as a snack at his own wake; Helen will be a posthumous pedant, OF COURSE; and Martin the Sound Man, MPhys, DPhil, doesn’t have a specialist subject on Mastermind, unless you can spin a whole round out of turning One Direction into physics references. Which seems quite possible, actually.
In this week’s Bit of Crap on the App, Olly invents a new game, even better than Lego, even better than Lincoln Logs. What, what, what incredible passtime can this be? Find out on your iDevices, Android and Windows.
We invite you to aid questioneer Brian by naming this tune:
We also invite you to give Squarespace.com a whirl, and if you enjoy that whirl you give it, use the code answer1 to snag a 10% discount for a whole year.
We also also invite you to send us your QUESTIONS: leave voicemails on the Question Line (call 0208 123 5877 or Skype ID answermethis) and deliver emails to answermethispodcast@googlemail.com.
We finally invite you to rejoin us in a fortnight for AMT283,
AMT282 Child-Friendly Rating: 76%. A couple of F-bombs, but other than that, fairly clear of saucy language. Elevated discussions of sculpture, coffins and Mastermind. Less elevated discussions of sweaty sports bras. Remember, parents: light and shade, light and shade.
It’s not just Cupcake Lady who has a problem colleague. Jennifer in Dublin is similarly afflicted:
In my job, it’s always up to me to arrange cards and collections when someone is leaving. It’s not actually in my job description, but being the general office skivvy it’s an unspoken rule that I do it (and I HATE it).
In a few weeks one woman who’s been here for a few months on a temporary transfer from another department is leaving. This woman is possibly the rudest, most ignorant person I have ever met. As well as being terrible at her job, she thinks she’s above everyone else, constantly loses and damages equipment and has even been rude to the boss. It’s like she’s in another world and just will not listen to anyone else. In retrospect, the other department probably encouraged this transfer to get rid of her.
So answer me this: do I arrange her leaving card and present even though I hate her and she’s been personally rude to me? Why should I do a nice thing for someone who makes my job more difficult?
Another twist in this dilemma is that her last day is also MY last day. Should I just do nothing and hope that whoever arranges my card and present does one for her too? That is presuming that someone does arrange one for me…
As I have largely worked on my own throughout my career, I need you office-dwelling readers to help out Jennifer in the comments.
But, in the spirit of altruism, I think you should sort out her card and present. It doesn’t have to be a particularly good one – eg if the usual office expenditure per present is £25, get her a cut price box of Black Magic – but try to rise above her human follies. Although you can’t stop people writing ‘FUCK OFF AND DIE! xx Michelle’ in the card. And by ‘can’t’, I mean ‘needn’t bother’.
Regarding your own departure: my poor old father-in-law was similarly the birthday/leaving celebration organiser, so of course when it was his own landmark birthday, his colleagues totally shat the bed and forgot. He was, rightly, not pleased. To avoid your own disappointment, therefore, start dropping heavy hints to some of your colleagues with whom you’re friendly. And when you’re touting around the card and collection plate for your office nemesis, you could even mention to everyone in turn that as you’re leaving, the next card and collection will have to be done by somebody else. You could even jovially remark, “And as I’m leaving on the same day as this bitch, that collection will be for me! So you’d better dig deep, hey?” OK, that has leapt clean over the boundaries of Hint and landed smack bang in Blatant Instruction, but how often do hints work? Will hints go out and buy your leaving present? Will hints console you in three years’ time when you’re still stewing about not getting a leaving card? Screw hints! Life’s too short for hints. In fact, send around a pan-office memo right now demanding a high-value present be supplied to you by 4pm on your final day. BECOME the office bitch.
For his previous birthday, I bought my friend the complete box set of Arrested Development. Several months later, our mutual friend told me that said person refuses to watch the TV show Arrested Development because he doesn’t like the band Arrested Development.
Answer me this: am I right in thinking that that is really weird? Isn’t that like refusing to listen to the musician Dennis Wilson because his name sounds a bit like the serial killer Dennis Nilsen?*
Also, have any of you experienced similarly weird prejudices based on such a tenuous connection?
First question first: yes, quite weird, given the overlap between the adventures of Mr Wendal and the Bluth family is pretty small – unless, using the money donated by the song’s narrator, Mr Wendal works his way up to a successful frozen banana business?
Second question second, I throw out to you readers: go to the comments and tell us about your tenous irrational aversions. Unless you have an irrational aversion to doing that.
*Or, for a closer Dennis Nilsen comparison, the musician Harry Nillson. Do you refuse to listen to ‘Without You‘ because of the mental image of a necrophiliac serial killer blocking his neighbours’ drains because he flushed bits of his victims down the toilet? Guess now you might.
Here’s a response to AMT281‘s question concerning the concentration of Blue Posts pubs in central London, from Leon:
Blue Posts are so named (I am led to believe) because the original actual blue posts marked the limits of the hunting ground which Soho was during olden times.
It’s an interesting theory, and quite plausible; can anyone confirm or refute? Or does it relate to some other aspect of Soho history? Are the Blue Posts marking, for instance, the locus of the 1854 cholera epidemic? Or are they simply referring to, er, what were protruding from the trousers of gentlemen roaming Soho, seeking relief?
AMT-brand advice has come in useful for once! Rosie from Kent living in Sardinia confided in AMT281 that she thought her in-laws’ wine was giving her cystitis. Relieved, she writes:
Your answer was bang on! It turns out that the culprit was not the wine but the fabric softener we were using! It ran out and the problem cleared up, where it had only improved when I stopped drinking the wine. In the interests of science I did a double blind drunk test and still no problems. Joy!
Answer Me This! Podcast 