Bugle 260 – International Love Triangle

God, I love coffee.

It's just...

it's just great.

It's a great drink.

This is a podcast from thebuglepodcast.com.

The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello, Buglers, and welcome to issue 260 of the world's leading and only audio newspaper for a visual world for the week being Monday the 17th of February 2014 with me, Andy Zoltzmann, five-time Dream Boat of the Year in Balding Ginger Cricket Obsessed Laps Dew magazine, Shalom ladies, reporting live from the London archipelago and joining me from across an increasingly large pond.

It's the man who turns cows into milkshakes just by vigorously palpating their udders during an earthquake into a bucket full of strawberries, so the rumor goes, each to their own.

It's John Oliver.

Hello, Andy.

Hello, Hello, buglers.

Look, if this week has taught us one thing, Andy, it's that snowboarding has no place in the Olympics.

And I'll tell you why, Andy.

They're f ⁇ ing smiling all the time.

All I saw this week is snowboarders coming down a mountain, failing, smiling, and congratulating each other.

That is an absolute disgrace, Andy.

Athletes should not have more perspective on life than anyone else.

They just keep coming down and go, oh, well, it doesn't matter.

I had a good time.

I'm here with friends.

It's all fun, isn't it?

No, it's not.

That's not what the Olympics is about.

Andy, I watch sports to see someone's world fall apart.

I want to see an expression cross their face of, I dedicated three decades of my life to this, and now it's all pointless.

What I don't want to see is, oh, that was fun.

F ⁇ you, snowboarders!

Well, it's about time someone said it, John.

It's about time.

It's so frustrating.

It's almost like this disappointment is zero sum and when they're happy I have to get angry How could they fall over get up and smile?

No

So this is Bugle for the week beginning Monday the 17th of February on this day 17th of February in the year 1600 the Italian philosophy ace Giordano Bruno was executed for his crazy far-out views such as that the sun is just another star knocking about in space like all the other stars.

That qualified him as a heretic in those days, and he was burned at the stake in Rome in the Campo de Fiore, which,

well, for those of you who know Rome, that makes sense.

There's some cracking pizza places around there.

They probably just popped him in the oven.

Lovely little wine bar in the Campo de Fiore as well.

I hope they let him have a cheeky little glass of Barola beforehand, otherwise, that would have really stung.

He was a big mnemonics fan,

Mr.

Bruno, and pioneer, author of The Art of Memory.

In fact, the very last two mnemonics he developed were this, Father Ignacio rode an elephant fast until capua, kipping in nice gardens, hardly urinating, rarely taking shits.

That was a mnemonic to remember the phrase, fire fing hurts.

And uh this one as well, uh Pope Clement must have had uh

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh

and uh This other one, Pope Clement must have a shriveled old floppy dick, uh, which stood for poison by poisoning by carbon monoxide, heat stroke, asphyxiation, shock, organ failure, death.

So,

terrific, terrific mnemonic fan.

As always, Section of the Bugle's going straight in the bin this week.

Well, a few sections: a personal finance section, an impersonal finance sension.

It's best to be ruthlessly objective about these things, otherwise, you might as well dig Trotsky up and say, Go on, pal, have another go.

And also in the bin, free audio golf lessons with the American golf guru, Fluty Gunscombe, part one.

Yeah, you need to aim a little bit more down the middle there and not play in an archaeological museum.

Try again.

Top story this week.

Heart-shaped balloon sales are up and so is the suicide rate.

It must be Valentine's Day.

Andy, Valentine's Day.

is such a commercially special time of year.

Yes.

It is that

romantic time to look a loved one in the eyes and say, look, I remembered all right, I don't want to hear any shit.

I mean, those are just memories to last a lifetime.

Throughout history, Valentine's Day has been a date synonymous with romantic gestures and massacres.

And fittingly, there were a number of stories about the art of love this week.

And in an act of perfect timing, the White House enjoyed a state visit earlier this week from François Hollande, President of France, the nation of Courst, instantly identifiable with love and military capitulation.

However,

however, it came with a need for some diplomatic tightrope walking after François Hollande's quintessentially French decision to trade in the First Lady of France for a younger French actress, to the somewhat mystifying shock of the people of France and the First Lady of France.

I mean, come on, both of you.

You know what you signed up for when you elected and or married a man with a French passport.

It was a a matter of time before he was caught on a scooter outside his mistress's house.

And by the way, that is not an offensive stereotype.

That's literally what happened.

This meant that the White House had to quickly and discreetly destroy all the state dinner invitations due to the fact that they were inviting people to a dinner honouring Francois Hollande and his wife, the wife who is now presumably at home cutting his face out of their wedding photos.

White House aides then apparently had to delay printing any new invitations as they were were waiting to hear whether to include his new mistress on the invitation or not.

And perhaps wisely, Hollande opted not to bring her.

Although that would have been a really ballsy move.

And the turn up to your state dinner with your mistress sitting on the back of the official French presidential scooter.

So instead, the invitation simply read, you are cordially invited to the White House to enjoy a state dinner honouring François Hollande, President of France and the human Pepe Le Pure.

Yes, he ended up, as you say, going solo, Hollande.

So they, in fact, gave him Ruth Barder Ginsburg as a date, the long-standing Supreme Court judge.

Apparently, relations between them were, quote, a bit frosty, but with some potential.

And in fact, goes even beyond what you suggest in terms of the damage he's done to America's view of the French, because I think America tends to have a stereotype view of what France is all about.

I think this has been exacerbated over the last decade and a bit during the various disagreements during the war on terror.

So this was a chance for Holland to build bridges.

But

this is the first state visit by a French president to America for 20 years.

And in terms of getting rid of stereotypes, it wasn't his wife that he did not bring.

It was the girlfriend that he ditched his wife for that he's now ditched for this actress mistress.

He might as well have just ridden off the plane on an old bicycle with a string of garlic round his neck.

Big step back.

He's an offensive stereotype, Andy.

As you say, this was a chance.

This was promoted as a chance for two nations who've had a sometimes tricky relationship over the last decade or two to come together.

And it's been portrayed here as a huge success with the French leader announcing in a press conference that mutual trust had been restored.

And if you were standing outside the apartment of the ex-Mrs.

Hollande in France, I'm pretty sure you could have heard her say, oh, huh, I'm so pleased to hear that trust has been restored.

America is certainly admirably forgiving.

Although, to be fair, I don't believe the US was consistently lied to by France in the past, only for it to turn out all along that France was f ⁇ ing another country.

In the same press conference, President Obama praised France's military role.

in helping quash extremist violence in Africa after the French and the US collaborated this year on missions in Mali and the Central African Republic.

And it's such a classic story, Andy.

What brings a relationship together better than a military intervention?

Any good marriage counselor will tell you that.

Things are going a little stale.

Why not try scented candles or fighting your way through the Congolese jungle together?

Hollande is not what you would describe as a classic Hollywood pin-up boy.

And one journalist was quoted in a British newspaper as saying that his sex appeal is, quotes, as inexplicable as unpasteurized cheese

well I mean this whoever said this needs to change their cheese supplier unpasteurized cheese is a passport to eternal happiness

and well I mean he's saying this isn't in the week of Valentine's Day there was I read a poll of the most romantic nationalities and France came in fourth

behind Spain, Argentina and Italy, a creditable fourth place.

Britain not in the top 10, sadly.

America, seventh.

Three places ahead of the 10th place Vietnamese.

Both top 10.

I mean, it doesn't mean if you watch Apocalypse Now with this fact in mind, it basically comes across as a rom-com.

France, a fourth most romantic nation.

In another survey,

came out as the rudest nation in the world.

And in another survey, it came across as the nation that is most tolerant of men wearing speed-oh swimming trunks on the beach.

And you can read into those three surveys whatever you want, provided what you read into them is telling someone to go fix themselves while wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy wangle and flugelnut contour flaunting under splants is more likely to make someone fall in love with you than a trip to the cinema and a romantic meal.

Use that information wisely, buglers.

Test it out if you want, and please, if you do test it out, report back on how it pans out for you.

The top five most romantic nations, John, Spain, Argentina, Italy, France, Brazil, they've all won the Football World Cup at least once since 1974.

In fact, eight of the nine last World Cups have been won by the five most romantic nations on earth, the exception being, of course, Germany.

So

that really is,

that shows you what an amazing sport football must be.

Yeah,

you can't argue with statistics, Anne.

And Britain when they seem to be deployed inappropriately.

Britain third in the rudeness table.

Bronze medal.

Bronze medal for being the third rudest nation on earth.

That is bollocks.

Who the f are these cs doing this bullshit survey anyway?

They should f the f off and leave us the f alone.

We're not fing rude in this country.

Who are these c?

Cup of tea.

Russia second.

Germany fourth.

That is down three in just 70 years.

America seventh, the least rude of the countries in the survey.

Brazil.

It's pretty hard to give off a leave me the f alone vibe when you're trying an unlikely overhead kick on the beach.

There you go.

Oh Chris, you better warm up that bleeping thing.

You don't want to pull something.

Fretch it out.

The UK press has been reporting the French state visit here in the US in a way that has made Britain sound like a jealous partner.

Because the newspapers were filled with worried reports about whether France had taken over the role of special relationship with the US from the British with the panic of a paranoid ex-girlfriend.

It seemed that we were only one step away from sending David David Cameron over unannounced to crash the press conference, only to storm in, look President Obama in the eye and say, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were with this bitch.

I'm telling you, Andy, from the tone of the reports, I think Britain and the ex-Mrs.

Hollande have been eating a lot of ice cream together this week.

In other Valentine's Day news, a restaurant here in New York is offering a $30,000 Valentine's Day menu in a pretty seismic f ⁇ you to poor people in this country and around the world.

Barak Karakam, owner of the Pera Mediterranean Brissary on Madison Avenue, said it promises, and I quote, a unique experience with all the right touches.

This is an extravagant experience featuring some of the most aphrodisiac ingredients.

I have to say, Andy, if...

If I had a $30,000 dinner, the most aphrodisiac ingredient would be $29,500 cash back at the end of that meal.

So,

well, what do you get for a $30,000 meal that makes it worth it other than dessert being the keys to a new finging car?

Well,

you get $1,600 an ounce Royal Austeria caviar.

You get a molten chocolate cake topped with edible 24-carat gold.

You get Shelter Island oysters and three main courses including lobster, roasted venison and rack of lamb.

That meal is not an aphrodisiac Andy, that is a digestive hand grenade.

You are absolutely going to to need a scented candle afterwards, not to set a sexy mood, but to cover up the gigantic romantic dump you're going to have to take.

Well, it puts a lot of pressure as well if you're not splitting the bill, doesn't it?

I mean, you know, you're going to want some payback for that.

The owner of the restaurant, Andy, says that he imagines a specific couple showing up, saying someone with a long-lost love, a love against all-odds situation, and this is kind of the final icing icing on the cake to bring it all together.

Uh no Andy, that is not who's going to be turning up for a $30,000 dinner.

I'll tell you who is though, a hedge fund manager and his closest personal prostitute.

That is who that guy is catering for.

Incredibly, the restaurant is also offering insurance just in case the evening doesn't end well in the form of a therapist and a matchmaker also being part of the package if Valentine's heartbreak winds up on the menu.

The owner said there's still a great story to be told.

We'll try and put the gentleman back in the game quickly.

Apparently they've also included a cleaner Andy in the Harvey Keitel sense so that you can murder her and dispose of the body all before dessert arrives.

The whole thing clearly just smacks of being a shameless marketing ploy to make money.

And if that's true, then what actually could be more appropriate on Valentine's Day than that?

Of course not, everyone's into Valentine's Day.

And a heroically single Chinese man, still recovering from the breakup of a relationship last year, has tried to put a spanner in other people's Valentine's Day works by buying up odd numbers seats at his local cinema to stop any couples sitting together.

The fact that he was doing this apparently spread on social media, and other people then started helping him out by buying...

all the odd numbers seats in the cinema until there were no pairs left.

Now, the man claimed it was a joke

but I think I rather think he's just a massive movie fan and if you're watching one of the classic films you don't want to be distracted by the smooching slurps of a saliva swap or the Casanovan crunch of lasciviously shared popcorn or by someone saying please remove your hand from my crotch I'm trying to watch this film.

You want to be able to concentrate fully on the film.

He also claimed that he hoped that people watching the Valentine's Day showing at the cinema might find themselves sitting next to someone they didn't know, thus sparking new relationships.

Well not if this goes according according to plan.

What it's more likely to spark is conversations like, do you think we're essentially alone in a pitiless universe that love is a madmate mirage to soften the unending rabbit punches of truth to the solar plexus and that Smurfs 2 is a film you want to hear every single word of so much

so many layers.

Me too?

Want some popcorn?

Buy your own dick bag.

Of course there are other ways of going about Valentine's Day.

It does really provide a kind of unrealistic expectation of what romance is truly about.

And

I guess there's very you know, you could I think really we should be looking at doing the least romantic acts possible to make the rest of the year seem like a 364-day whirlwind of affection, including bugle suggestions for you.

Find a large rotten stick in the woods, jab it through your loved one's front window with a note tied to it saying, Can I borrow five pounds to buy some anti-exma cream for my flaky elbow?

Or lay the table with candles and flowers, cook a nice meal, then summon your loved one with the words, dinner time for Nicky Numbskull, take a baseball bat and smash the food, plates and table to pieces.

And that, I believe, will do more for your long-term relationship than conventional romantic actions.

Alternatively, poetry, of course, very popular

on Valentine's Day, but we live in a very hectic world and we can't afford the time and effort to express our emotions in any more detail these days than a single smiley or sad face, or as they're known, a remoticon, so-called because they are a con and they make you feel more remote from genuine human communication.

Of course, now known as emoticons, because of their lack of genuine feeling.

There is no R in remoticon, hence, emoticon, a little bit of modern etymology for you.

So, we have no time for the big long waffly expressions of love people used to pen in the olden days.

Shakespeare with his hit sonnet, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

I forget how it goes on.

I think it's Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

Yes, good.

In which case, you're like a Summer's Day, because I can't spend any time with you because there's cricket on the telly.

Cup of tea would be nice.

Cheers, babe, it's 140 for three, by the way.

If Shakespeare was around today,

well, for a start, he'd probably be writing advertising jingles about domestic cleaning products.

Well, yeah, I mean, even in the day, he had to earn a living.

In fact, recent research shows that he doubled up his playwriting job as head of creative for the

Elizabethan ad agency Strout, Bacon, and Gripe, who ran campaigns for, amongst others, bubonics, plague remedies, you go, Bubo, and heretico accessories for religious dissenters, including the very fetching Persecutes fire-retardant Catholic ape, which would extend the life of a customer being burned at the stake by between 30 and 45 minutes, sold with a slogan, don't worry, I'll cook.

But if Big Billy Shake It was around today, he wouldn't have the time or inclination to waste 14 lines of prime sonnet banging on about

how he's wondering whether or not to compare some chick to a Summer's Day.

He'd probably just boil it down to a simple, uncomplicated

toast my bagel.

So we like to help you out to the bugle, so just in case, I mean, bearing in mind, we are recording this on Valentine's Day, so by the time you listen to it, it will be over.

But there's a couple of free Bugle Valentine's poems for you in case you don't have the time to write your own.

Firstly, you'll do.

You'll do for now.

It might last but somehow when I look into your eyes I know if I get a pay rise I'll ditch you for someone new.

I'll trade up and be made up but in the meantime you'll do just fine.

And love is like a bucket of sick.

Love is like a bucket of sick.

in that it's better than a javelin in the eye and should not be taken on a motorbike.

So we do hope that brings you happiness and love on this very special date.

Canadian rock band Sues Guantanamo News now and in an amazing twist for both music and morality, a Canadian rock band has officially sent a bill to the US military after they were told that their music was used to torment detainees at Guantanamo.

That is quite a royalty check to demand Andy.

The band in question is called Skinny Puppy, pioneers of industrial metal, the music that is, well, not actually industrial metal, the pioneers of which was, of course, the British peasants in the late 1700s.

But the keyboardist for the band, Kevin Key, said that they are seeking $666,000

for use of their music, saying, I'm not only against the fact that they're using our music to inflict damage on somebody else, but they're doing it without anybody's permission.

classic selective musician morality andy this is morally wrong and i'm totally against it happening unless i'm being paid for it the real victim in this torture of an uncharged detainee is the artist it's the artist

i think they might have been playing some of our early episodes of the bugle as well um

Kevin Key went on to say, I wouldn't want to be subjected to any overly loud music for six to twelve hours at a time without a break.

And exactly, Andy, he's right.

At the very least, throw some between-song patter in there.

Because here is an extract of Skinny Puppy right now.

So,

the very least they could do, Andy, is something like this.

Hey, we're Skinny Puppy, great to be with you today.

This is from our 2013 album, Weapons.

Available on Metropolis Records.

Shout out to Guantanamo Melbay, the controversial facility of the Republic of Cuba.

Shout out to all our fans stuck in legal limbo.

Well, I say fans, I really mean people subjected to our music with the aim of inflicting pain.

Come to see us live sometime.

Check out our website for tour dates.

That puppy.com we got the dot com

I mean

that would that would make it make it better but um I mean I'm just not sure this is the right type of music personally I'd rather

I think light-hearted music is in many ways more intrusively offensive than than deliberately intrusively offensive music.

I mean, if they just played this song Snooker Loopy

to these detailies, which

was a snooker-themed novelty pop hit in the mid-1980s in Britain,

then I think, I mean, by your 40th or 50th repetition of the words, pot the reds and screw back for the yellow, green, brown, blue, pink, and black, you will basically confess to absolutely anything.

In fact, a mate of mine did a 20 stretch for claiming he was the real Dr.

Krippin after just hearing that song twice in the same afternoon.

Well, that's the point, because this is, of course, nothing new, Andy.

It has been reported in the past that the US military at their other detention facilities in Iraq and Afghanistan blasted loud music into cells ranging from Metallica and Nine-inch Nails to Sesame Street and Barney the Dinosaur.

And Barney the Dinosaur never sued Andy.

I can only presume that's because he likes people being tortured to his music, the sick purple fk.

Good job to get in the military.

Yeah.

Very much out of the front, out of the firing line.

Playlist compiler, DJ.

This one's going out to Ahmed in cell 13.

Who hates the West?

But this is the first time that a band has attempted to take legal action to get paid.

And Key said that while his bands acknowledged that his band's music could be a terrible nightmare for some listeners, to others, it's a creative artistic endeavor that plays with dark writings and dark cinema.

That is a hell of a description, Andy, because you could probably describe our podcast like that, Andy.

It could be a terrible nightmare to some listeners.

Wouldn't it, though?

Wouldn't it be incredible if it turned out that this is actually the thing that ends up closing Guantanamo Bay?

It's like getting Al Capone on tax evasion, Andy.

It would be amazing.

Guantanamo wasn't shut down due to egregious human rights violations.

It was shut down due to copyright law infraction.

Listen, we'll take it.

They got whichever way it comes.

They also got Capone for making illegal mixtapes of late 1920s classics as well.

Historic burglary news now, and there's been a big spat, John, between Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London and de facto king of the British Empire, and the Hollywood heartthrob George Clooney,

who made a comment that he thought that the Parthenon marbles, or the Elgin marbles, as they're known after the man who stole them, should be returned to Greece.

Boris Johnson responded by saying that Clooney needs his marbles restored and said these words.

Boom Andy.

Clooney

is advocating...

Johnson pointed out that the Nazis have apparently drawn up plans to return

the marbles to Greece.

And so

they were so interested in doing the right thing, weren't they, Andy?

And Boris Johnson said these words.

This Clooney is advocating nothing less than the Hitlerian agenda for London's cultural treasures.

Oh my God.

Well, you have to snuff these things out, John Root, because this is where it all starts.

One minute you're advocating returning stolen goods to their rightful owners.

The next, you're invading Czechoslovakia and instigating genocide.

It's a slippery slope.

It's not just a slippery slope.

It's a bobsled run.

Once you've set off, there is absolutely no way off it.

We might as well bang Clooney to Wright in the Hague right now and be done with it.

Yes, Johnson said that the Nazis were...

a little surprisingly you might think planning to send their marbles back to Athens.

Now

I mean I don't know I mean, I never actually met Hitler, and I can't claim to understand his thought processes, but from what I've read about him, I'd be surprised if he'd progressed that far in his plans to build a special museum in Athens, specifically for these historic sculptures to be seen in something approaching a valid context.

But maybe, maybe this was his big thing, John.

Antiquities in context.

Mr.

Fuhrer, we need to sign off on these plans for the Russian campaign.

I think we're going to need to order quite a lot more overcoats.

F ⁇ ing Zoff, Shitzenkoff!

It's been fking on the gallery Spietziel Spetzy Allen plans for the Egyptian Reliken exhibition schnitz in the

Valley von der Kingsmuseum nich abed nihlenfloswater.

Fing ich been an angry Adolf.

Angry, angry archaeologist.

Gettens it fura fura furious.

Ahisen

it's beautiful language.

Sonorous lyrical language.

It was uh it's just a classic clownish overstretch from Boris Johnson.

You know, he goes in there with the someone needs to restore George Clooney's marbles.

Boom, Oscar Wilde lives, Andy, and he is currently Mayor of London with even sillier hair than before.

But rather than stopping after that perfect put-down, he continued with his Hitler analogy.

And what you need to remember is that he deserves sympathy more than condemnation.

Boris Johnson suffers from Achilles' mouth.

It's his fatal weakness.

Now,

regardless, let's just look at the actual content of what George Clooney said, though, Andy, which is that he thought the organ marbles should probably be returned to where they belong.

But let's look at that in the context of history, because obviously, historically, Andy, they belong to Britain.

Unfortunately, even more historically, that is, anytime pre-1801, they belong to Greece.

So it really just depends when you think history started.

If it's any time after 1802, those f ⁇ ing marbles are ours, and I don't know who this ancient Greece is.

1877 for me John.

That's when the first test match was played.

And also once again we see that Johnson of course Conservative, Mayor of London, shows that the Tories have a very different view on returning people to where they came from if those people are made of marble rather than

people.

He clearly said this.

He said I do think it's worth having an open discussion.

It was one of 100 questions at a press conference.

A Greek reporter asked me about the marbles, and I just said I thought it was probably a good idea if they found a way back at some point.

But if you play it backwards, it sounds like this.

Yes, I'd be all in favour of a thousand-year Reich.

Why the fk not?

So maybe Johnson has a point.

Is that technically true, 1877, Andy?

Didn't they not know they were playing a test match then and only retrospectively they called those games test matches.

Oh,

so

in a match.

But when they didn't call it fing one

AD as soon as Jesus was born, did they?

No, no.

It works, mate.

Okay, fair point.

I'm just saying, 1877's tough one.

That nearly really escalated fast then.

There was a twitch across the room.

And that is why it's so important that Britain never does get firearms.

Cat name competition entries now and well, last week we had an email from Amy and Josh

with the frankly inadvisable request that we name their new cat for them.

We open a bad idea to a competition for buglers.

That was yeah that was only followed up by an even worse idea Andy which was you throwing that out to the room

you know love democracy John big big fan

thanks to the many of you who sent in suggestions for what this cat should be called some including not cat lovers for judging by your entries a lot of leader theme suggestions, including uh a lot of people saying Chairman Meow, which uh as uh I think David Badil had didn't he have a cat called Chairman Meow?

I know we used to call a cat in uh in when I lived in uh in Brixton the chairman, when he uh used to wander across the garden.

Uh some a lot of Silvio Berlusconi um variations uh

Silvio Perlusconi

um I think you do better than that.

Catamir Pertin

Catamir mutin.

A bit forced.

Yep.

Silve Meow Perlisko, and that's that's chucked in another meow in there.

Barak

Meowma.

Wow.

Pushing a little bit.

Dwight's Meowsinhauer.

That's

Fidel Castro.

I do like that.

Better.

That's good.

That's good.

Joseph Miaobutu.

That's

a good book.

There's something I like about that.

Nigel Lee pointed out that any Putin-related name would be good because presumably the cat will be walking around topless killing local wildlife, so it would be appropriate if it was stock.

This David King came up with a couple of particularly good suggestions that they should get another cat.

They're social animals and can benefit from companionship.

Mostly, he says it would give me opportunity to live out my lifelong dream of getting two cats that can't quite see eye to eye, naming them Yasa Arakat and Benjamin Kitanyahu.

Eric Rand's bottom suggested Miaugrit Scratcher.

And another suggestion for

Thatcher, described as the Genghis Khan of Grantham by Tim in Sydney, Australia, who suggested it should be either Thatcher or Putin, the cat's name.

Either way, he writes, seeing Margaret Thatcher or Vladimir Putin licking its own asshole on the sofa would be a very satisfying feeling.

We did ask for it not to be be too rude, but that did not stop Josh from Perth in Western Australia saying,

I'm sure we can all agree that the most bugle-appropriate name for Amy and Josh's cat would be penis, if only for the frequency which you'd be able to have your very own penis on roof story.

That's

about right to Bugle 69, I think it wasn't it,

one of the all-time classics

of satire, and one of the issues that other organs were afraid to address.

Meow Mar Gaddafi being suggested by various people.

Oliver Jackson, call that furry bastard Hammerpaw Hammerpaw Flash Inferno and be done with it.

I like that.

I think that's a strong name.

Andy in Stockport suggests, I have a suggestion for the naming of the cat.

You should call it Stop Shitting Behind the T telly, you little ts or I'll tell you to the kebab shop because that is what we should have called our cat.

Zach Roger suggests Plaxico Per S and signs off whoop.

There it is.

Okay.

Yep.

Nikiti Khrushchev.

Another one.

Brian Drake in in Gallatin, Tennessee says my absolute favourite name for a cat is Professor Fuzznuts.

And of course, since they're not certain what gender they're getting,

in the case of a lady cat, it should be Lady Fuzzy Tits.

So there we go.

I think we have now seen

short-sighted us of

Pope John Paul's the second from Will Blake, who also suggested Moggy Thatcher.

And various people have suggested riot, as in Pussy Riot, given another topical Winter Olympics-themed

suggestion.

So I don't know, John, are any of those that stand out for you?

For

winners, I got a soft spot for Joseph Meow Butu

just for the conversation starter or stopper that that would provide.

So you could call it Butu, as in Meow Butu.

I mean, that would probably work as a cat's name.

Yeah.

I mean, I don't know if

Amy and Josh are starting to regret throwing this in our direction.

I'm sure they are.

I mean, I was, I'm also not surprised that any of this has happened, Andy, after you uh instigated it.

This is where we were always going to end up.

Uh, well, another picking up on one of your bugle words, John, Martin Ray suggested it should be called astratunity, as in catastratunity.

So, I mean, you could call it astro for sure.

That's quite a good name for a cat, isn't it?

Catastratunity.

Uh, also suggested two poor Shakur and Kitty Smalls, Smalls, kind of hip-hop themed

cat names.

I like Godfrey, as in Kitty Godfrey, but that's a bit of a niece reference for fans of 1920s women's tennis.

Just call it fking mittens and get it done with.

Fucking mittens.

Yeah, not fking, but mittens.

So, I mean, it's a tough one.

I think.

I think Butu, maybe Meow Butu.

That's um that seems to be the front runner.

We might have to sit sit on this and decide over the weekend.

Anyway, Buglers,

you've let yourselves down.

And you've let Amy and Josh and

all the cats of the world down.

Meow Grip Scratcher was good, though.

I like that.

Do keep your emails coming into info at thebuglepodcast.com.

The cat competition entries are now closed.

I repeat.

They are now closed at least one week too late.

Don't forget also to check out our SoundCloud SoundCloud page, soundcloud.com/slash the hyphen bugle and our webpage, thebuglepodcast.com, where you can take out your voluntary subs and buy your bugle scarf and other forms of merchandise.

This scarf is sensational.

Sensational.

That is it for this week's bugle.

I'm afraid I think next week we're going to have to get a bit Sweden 1753 on you, by which I mean we're going straight from the 17th of February to the 1st of March with nothing in between, like Sweden did in 1753 when they switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar, by which I mean

we're probably going to have to take next week off, but we will put a sub-bugle, put a sub-bugle out.

Wow, it's educational, isn't it?

Wow,

I guess it is.

Well, I don't think it's so much educating people in a fact as to what a human adult can do with their life.

Thanks very much for listening, Buglers.

Until next time, goodbye.

Bye!

Hi, Buglers, it's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast, Mildly Informed, which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.