Friday, 22 June 2012

BOF Bay

Last Sunday, Coyote and I took a jaunt along the Llyn Peninsula.  It was a glorious day; the sun shone gently on the verdant hills and floated lazily on the clear waters of the various bays and harbours dotted along the timeless coastline.

Somehow - call it an error of judgement - we ended up at Morfa Nefyn golf club.  We padded about a bit, marvelling at the allotted car parking spaces for the golf club bigwigs:  President, Vice President, Vice Vice President, Vice Vice President's Secretary, Vice Vice President's Secretary's Dog...and so on.  Just as we were running out of things to snigger at, I noticed a mound of earth jutting out from the hedge at the back of the car park.  Before Coyote could compare me to a mountain goat, I bounced up and looked down upon a stunning site:



"That's beautiful," Coyote commented as we gazed at the pretty harbour.  "Let's get down there!"

On the third unmarked, loose chipping-riddled road, we turned back from another dead end and drove for a mile with the wing mirrors tucked in.  We wouldn't give up, though.  Oh no.  Somewhere down there was a beach that was crying out for Coyote and Roadrunner's footprints!

Long story - involving abandoned cars, surfers, scary farmers and the slowly-dawning realisation that there was probably a road through the golf club that would've got us there in three minutes - short, we parked up on a narrow road by the beach.  Coyote made use of a BOFmobile (yes!  It's possible!) by parking behind it so that any car barrelling down the road would smash into its ugly bumper instead of injuring Monty.  Clever Coyote.

A quick change of footwear later and we were strolling hand-in-hand along the shore.  The cool breeze played around us as soft waves licked at the sand; it truly was a gorgeous day.  Just then, Coyote stopped in his tracks.  He sniffed the air and I watched as his eyes widened.  Before I could ask him if he'd caught the whiff of a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, a FOBOFmobile cruised past us.  Wordlessly, I swapped lenses on my camera and waited for the evidence to present itself.  We weren't disappointed.

Churning up the sand, the gleaming monstrosity came to a halt...in bay 1, of course.  The BOF emerged, his Wellington boots crunching the shale as he purposefully gathered items from his vehicle.  While he busied himself with this task, his BOFWAG paid as much attention to him as she would a woodlouse.  The BOFdogs trotted around, lingering over scents on the ground.  Probably trained to hunt down bacon sandwiches.


A few moments later and the BOF strode ahead with a set of oars on his shoulders.  As you can see from the photo below, his BOFWAG was the last thing on his mind:


Following at a safe distance, we tracked them to the harbour around the corner.  There, the BOFWAG disappeared into the hills with her trio of BOFdogs - leaving the grinning BOF to take to the water in his dinghy. We're pretty sure he was humming Rachmaninov as he rowed across the harbour:


We surveyed the vessels moored just off the shore.  Which one was his?  Not the fishing boat, that's for sure.  Nor the dredger.  How about the elegant Drascombe?  No...that would require a sparse knowledge of  actual sailing.  BOFs don't have time for that.

With a few more strokes of his oars, our question was answered.  Of course, it had to be the pretentious Cobra RIB with the smelly Mariner outboard. 

Slowly, the BOF rose to his feet and attempted to board his nautical steed...


...then he stumbled (probably weighed down by the size of his own ego) and tried again...


"Blast!"  One more go...


Quite how I managed to take these photos I'll never know.  I was doubled-up with hilarity and my legs were plaited...but we triumphed!


With a lot of grunting and an extraordinary amount of needless effort, the BOF finally managed to clamber aboard.  He spent an inordinate amount of time faffing around (probably setting his webcam up and trying to remember how to start the damned thing) and eventually steered out of the harbour:


Did he tear the sea up in his souped-up inflatable dinghy?  We'll never know.  We'd seen quite enough and decided to cross back over the beach before the tide cut us off.

To this day, we hope there's a FOBOFmobile bobbing about somewhere in the Irish sea.

*MEEP MEEP!*

Monday, 11 June 2012

A Warrior Steps Up!

It seems that our post about the BOF Desk (below) has rather rallied the troops.

As you know, we live in Wales.  We haven't done too well with the weather over the last few days; and a lot of folks are struggling with the aftermath of raging rivers and furious floods. After a weekend of rain and misery, it was a delight to come back to an email that had us beaming from ear to ear...!

An anonymous BOF Warrior has taken it upon themselves to step up to the front line and physically attack a FOBOFmobile.  As its chrome glinted horridly in the acidic street light, this Warrior sidled up like a hooded ninja and marked this vehicle for all to see.

THE TARGET:

MID-ASSAULT:

VICTORY!

We don't know where or when these photos were taken.  Nor do we know who this brave Warrior is...but we salute you.  You're the first to risk your arse by branding a BOFmobile.  If you're ever in our neck of the woods, please stop by.  We'll pin a badge to your hoodie and make you a cuppa :)

*Meep Meep!*

Thursday, 7 June 2012

The BOF Desk

With readers across the globe, the BOF Warrior army is growing.  As the ranks swell, so does the influx of information and evidence.  We've been sent photographs of BOFmobiles from Italy; BOFwags in Kenya and BOF sightings from Tenby to Trinidad and Tobago!

We thought we'd seen it all...but no.  An anonymous email arrived recently that had us stunned into silence.  No words accompanied the photographic attachment...but no words were required.

What you're about to see is so shocking that you may need a brandy to recover.  We didn't think BOFs could possibly get any more obsessed with their BOFmobiles - but this proves otherwise:

* We've taken the liberty of concealing this BOF's identity with a strategically placed sprout.  If we didn't, we'd get into trouble.  Again.

Not content with terrorising people on their commutes to and from work, it seems that BOFs also need to be surrounded by chrome while in the office.  We believe that the bling lights flash every time the phone rings, the indicators blink into action when a new email arrives and the headlights blind anyone who dares enter the office without express permission.  The car horn is used when the BOF requires his PA to supply a bacon sandwich.

And so The War on BOFs rages on.  Please keep your information coming; we need everything we can get in order to put a stop to this ridiculous, tinted frippery.

In the meantime, we're off to buy more sprouts.


The Coyote and Roadrunner Dictionary


If you follow either of us on Twitter, I'm sorry.  However, you may have noticed that we use a few strange terms here and there.  Of course, most of you already know what a BOF is...but what's a 'Lourk'?  Who the hell is 'Colin' and when is a sheep not a sheep?!

In this blog post, we're going to attempt to enlighten you through the medium of letters strategically placed next to each other in some sort of order.

So get a cuppa, sit back and educate yourself.  You might learn something useful*!

*This is highly unlikely.  You might smile, though.


THE COYOTE AND ROADRUNNER DICTIONARY - 2012 EDITION

A
Aberwristwatch – Aberystwyth
Abu Dhabi – Aberdyfi
Al Jazeera – Form of freeze-dried coffee
Amazing – Not amazing
Austins – Horse blinkers

B
Bappage – To be in receipt of a text message
Barcode Cock – Bird of prey common in Powys
Bastards – Gnats
Bastards – Hard to open containers
Bastards – Traffic wardens
Bastards – Wasps
Bastards - Weeverfish
Bee Cee Io Oo – BBC Radio Two
Beef Garda - Cow police
Beough - BOF exclamation or approval
Bernard – Roast chicken
BIF – BMW or Mercedes driver
Billy – Champagne
Blow job – Hair dryer
Bob - Husky
BOF – Range Rover driver
BOFahoy! - Getting a wave from a Range Rover Driver
Boffee – Black coffee
BOFroshire - Pembrokeshire
Bollock Brain – Term of endearment
Boocicle – Eastern European pushbike
Bosoms – Biscuits
Bus – Isuzu 
Buzby – Telephone

C
Car - Bus
Charts - Meteorological Tourette's 
Chepow – Monmouthshire town twinned with Japan
Colin – McDonald’s Fillet o’ Fish
Conditioner – Shampoo
Cow – Sheep
Croooss Foooxes - Pub near Dollygalloo
Crossroads - Female weather presenter
Custard – Gravy

D
DAB – A national radio station
Daffodil – Lorry
Defrag – To occupy the WC for a considerable time
Dollygalloo – Dolgellau
Dominianos – A pizza with a free photo frame
Donovan - Not flushing the toilet
Dykeson – Sandi Toksvig’s vacuum

E
ELC – Condescending voice-over artiste
Elliotts – Porta Potties
Eye Charts – Meteorological Tourette’s

F
Face Grease – Lip balm
FOBOF - Range Rover with chrome everything
Forks – Candles
Fred – Moth

G
Garda – Sheep
Giraffe – Sheep
Gobshite – Term of endearment

H
Hacketted – Severely inebriated
Hair dryer – Speed gun
Ham Sandwich – Tuna Sandwich
Hamster – Sheep
Handset – Machynlleth
Hedgehog – Sheep
Heilo – Standard Brithdir greeting
Helga – Log cabin overlord
Horse – Sheep

I
Inland Revenue – To make one’s brain work overtime
INRIX – Weatherproof jacket

J
Jacob – Very spindly spider
JK – Rather common person
JOB – National radio bingo game
Josh - A relationship of convenience

L
Llama – Sheep
Llanheadlice – Llanidloes
Lourk – Social networking voyeur

M
Maisie – Shower puff
Martin, Joyce and Darcy – Our Irish friends
Mememem - Audi
MerthyrMobile - Any car that's a violent shade of green
Mingeface – Term of endearment
Moon – Sun
Mountebank – Complete wanker


N
NEM – Mistakenly rearranged emoticon
Number 6 - Decent coffee

O
Octavia – Taxi

P
Perversion – Method of heating water
Petes – Hair straighteners
Pop Pop Pop – Error with hotel booking
Port Toilet – Port Talbot
Post Apocalyptic Movie Set – Anglesey
Princess Anneing – Masticating gum
Prodigies – Fire lighters
Puke – Particular model of Nissan

R
Rebecca – Fortifying vitamin and mineral drink
Regan – Cigarette

S
Samsung – Unreliable
SAS – Dawdling weekend drivers
Shitface – Term of endearment
Simon and Garfunkels – Men’s undergarments
Slate – Cotton
Slate – Metal
Slate – Plastic
Slate – Wood
So Long – Type of sauce; usually served with fish
Sprouts – Weapons of mass destruction
Stephanies – Cold and flu medication

T
Taiwan – Tywyn
Tarzanespam – Sleeping pills
Timothy Spall - Jacket
Tits – Light shades
Twat – To share information in 140 characters or less

V
Van - Bus
VOD – Overweight woman of a certain age

W
Whittaker – Any man with a grey beard
Wilcox – Floral neck tie
Woofing – Not quite the shilling
Wuckfit – Term of endearment
Wynne Evans – Ten pounds of money

Z
Zebra - Bus
Zip – Phenomenal display of geekiness 


*Meep Meep!*
xx