THE UNWITTY RIPOSTE

Nobody's ever quite ready for the answer phone. You call up, you're told to leave a message, you have to come up with something on the spot - it's a very difficult position to suddenly find yourself in. You certainly didn't bank on all this when you dialled the number.

Being told to leave a message after the beep is like a curtain call for a play you don't remember auditioning for...

"Krusty, you're on in three seconds... beep!"

"What?"

"Get on the stage, pal - you've got a full house waiting for you out there."

"B-but, I didn't get a copy of the script yet!"

And it's being recorded as well, so you know your friend can and will play it back at least once. In that sense, it's not so much like a play - more like one of those charity telethon things, where the newsreaders have to perform a live song and soap opera actors struggle to be spontaneous, fully aware that people will be rewatching these embarrassing clips on compilation programmes for years to come.

I think the real problem with the answer phone is that most telephone conversations just aren't that important. You call you friend, you really just want to know if they heard that new record yet, or whether they're still coming out on Friday or something. The actual decision to leave a message feels like it should be reserved for important stuff, like when someone's in hospital or the house has just burnt down or there's a newborn baby. "Are you still coming out on Friday?" seems kind of a waste of good tape.

I guess the real problem with the answer phone is realising that your friend is out somewhere, probably having a lot more fun than you are. So, whatever you say in that message it pretty well boils down to "Hi, I'm at home, on my own, nothing to do. You're out, you have other friends. I don't. Hope to speak to you when you're not so busy. Please don't forget me."

THE FRANKIE HECTORING

Stop it. It was clever when Seven did it. You know, that 7 in place of the V. Se7en. Sure, someone thought about that.

But, come on now. 5ive? Numb3rs? Thir13en Ghosts? Do we have to have a digit in place of a letter on e7ery s1ngle w8rd n0w?

Television's Numb3rs is an especially poor example. I mean, the show's called Numbers. Not Number. So they really should have put at least two digits in there to make that one work. Like Numb3r5 or maybe 2umb3r5, something like that. Otherwise, it's, like "Numb Three Rs". Who's numbing three Rs? What's an R? Is that street jive? Do they talk about the R down in the 'hood?

Pop band 5ive make a compelling argument for stopping the practice. They had that 5 at the start, but there's also the IV in the middle of the word "five", which is four in roman numerals. That's very confusing, especially to time travelling Romans (note - their time machine is designed to look like a freakishly large wooden horse).

It's high time someone reversed this trend. We should start writing the numbers with letters placed at odd angles within them like the result of a brutal car accident between the alphabet and the numerals. Together we can change the world.

This has, incidentally, been the 150th edition of Krusty. Or, as I prefer to think of it - Krusty ISO. D'you see what I've done there?

THE CAROL VESSEY DETENTION

So, the internet. Why do the media people keep telling me it's online? It really is only the media people, isn't it?

Go online. Hello to people listening online. Check it out online. You can participate online.

What's with the line? It can't be the phone line, surely. Because we've been using phones for years and nobody ever said "Give me a call tomorrow and I'll speak to you online." Believe me, I'd remember.

And, hey - TV presenters... no one out here in sofa land is saying "online". Not about anything. Really. We just call it the internet, maybe the net, maybe the web if we're feeling kind of nostalgic. Occasionally, we call it the information superhighway, just to mix things up a bit. But nobody's "going online" except for you.

Because, ____ - that's a line. You want us to go on that?

Perhaps if the TV ideas people stayed off "the lines" for a few days, maybe that would help...

THE BUS PASS

It's an old cliché, but you do seem to wait ages for a bus and then three come along at once. It's like one of the old Hanna Barbera cartoons where you'd see Scooby-Doo and the gang walking past the same door again and again. The real world animators get bored, use the same cell of the moving bus three times while you're at the bus stop.

If you were a Hanna Barbera character - Fred Flintstone, George Jetson, Josie McCoy - I guess you'd be making the bus observation about a lot more things. "You wait hours for one door to come along, and then twenty turn up on the same corridor."

There's some comfort in that.

THE IMPASSE

And there's nothing else quite like the sinking feeling you get in your stomach when your pass stops working. You're standing at the ticket barriers, there's a big queue of people behind you and - beep-beep-beep - "seek assistance". Because you feel like a criminal.

You get very apologetic in that situation. You do that "I don't understand how this can have happened" face to the person behind you. And you have to try the pass a couple more times to really be sure.

Sometimes you see people, they will keep sliding that pass along no matter how many "seek assistance" signs flash up. Doesn't matter how many people are waiting behind them. Doesn't matter how many staff are eager and willing to help. The train station could be on fire and they'd still be there, swiping the travelcard, seeking no assistance whatsoever. I think their attitude is "I've been navigating gates since I was 18 months old, thank you very much. I'll tell you when I need assistance."

The thing about the seek assistance sign is it has no real power to make you seek that assistance. It's just a prompt, and a lot of people don't like to get prompted into taking action. What they really need at the station is a guy who comes out when your pass doesn't work, grabs you by the shoulder and tells you, "We'd like you to come with us. You're playing with colonial dollars there, son."

THE PASS MASTER

Is it supposed to be a race when you use those magnetic pass card things on the reader? You know, the travel pass, the work i.d., the fob for the magnetically locked door. I find myself trying to do the slightest, mildest, subtlest swipe on these things. It's like one of those time/motion studies - I'm trying to use as little motion as I can for the operation. I'm like a statue. I don't know why - I can't see what I'm saving all that energy for.

It's great when you don't even need to touch the reader - just get close enough, it knows, the door unlocks. That's a great feeling. It's like having a touch of the magician about you. "Look, no hands - the door has unlocked. This simple-minded device obeys my will."

Sometimes I like to do it like I'm palming a coin. The pass is between the third finger and the pinkie, rotate my knuckle, the pass is read, the ticket barrier opens, the pass is already travelling back down my sleeve into hiding, the audience think I can somehow travel without a pass.

If the equipment has a good reader range, you can keep the pass in your pocket. Kind of step just so and the pass is read - you're in. Other people are fumbling for their i.d. passes behind you, but you just step through like your own the joint.

Sometimes you can get too blasé about it, pull out the wrong pass for the wrong occasion. You're trying to get through the ticket barriers at the train station with your work pass - usually takes two or three goes with that sucker before you realise why nothing's happening.

WHY MY CINEMA NEEDS A BIGGER MARQUEE #2

Showing this week: Harry Potter in Her Shoes.

THE DARK BOARD MEETING OF THE SITH

If there is one person who has influenced my decision not to pursue a career in management it is Darth Vader. That bit at the end of The Empire Strikes Back where he makes the job offer to Luke...

"Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy, as father and son."

I'm not denying the coolness of Darth Vader, here, but you really have to root for Luke in that scene. Vader's a great bad guy, but nobody wanted the evil galactic Empire to win Star Wars. After all, they're the evil galactic Empire. That was their first choice of name. There was no question of using the misunderstood galactic Empire or the we're okay once you get to know us galactic Empire. They went straight in with the evil.

Vader's offer is really that Luke come and join the management team. You know, the Emperor is the Director General, Vader is the logistics manager, there's Peter Cushing in there as one of the regional directors, Mister Bronson from Grange Hill as the guy from human resources. Since I was six years old this has been my comprehension of management.

Nobody wants to be on the board with Darth Vader. He's in the middle of a presentation of profits for the last financial quarter and he's suddenly turning to me...

"And how is productivity in your area?"

And I'd be blurting out something off the top of my head, you know, like, "Well, we've had quite a difficult time - the cold weather has kept people away from our stores..."

And Vader would do that strangling people with a look trick of his. "The weather does not concern me, Assistant Manager Krusty."

(Which is ironic, because when you wear a heavy cloak you really need to think about whether you want to go out in a heavy storm - it gets damp, weighs you down, it's a great big drag.)

It's tough to feel much job satisfaction in a situation where you can be strangled at any moment.

THE MISUNDERSTATEMENT

Today, Channel Four television have announced a new reality TV show in which contestants are fooled into thinking they've travelled to Russia to learn how to become an astronaut (okay, cosmonaut). "Hilariously", it is, of course, a prank played on a group of gullible volunteers mixed with stooges who have been briefed on their mission.

The show will transmit nightly over ten days in December, and is fronted by Johnny Vaughn. Channel Four's Angela Jain says, "We've taken a big risk with Space Cadets."

Sweetheart, it's fronted by Johnny "the ratings killer" Vaughn - it's tough to imagine taking a bigger risk in television. When you know you're onto a loser that you'd rather everyone ignore, ask Johnny Vaughn to host it. Eurgh!

THE PREPOSTEROUS SIXTH OUTFIT

I don’t remember - did I miss one of the Doctor Who stories?

He's regenerating every few years, he's got a new waist size, new leg measurements, different size of feet - does he have an outfit for every possible body type tucked away in the TARDIS somewhere, "just in case"? Where is he getting all these clothes from?

It seems very unlikely. Because, as a rule, men hate shopping for clothes. Sure, they'll go out, they'll buy new shoes, a new jacket, whatever, but trying stuff on, choosing between things, purchasing an outfit that will fit them after they've been on a diet - that's really more the territory of women.

I think maybe we missed the episode where he regenerated into a woman and went shopping. You know, being chased by Cybermen around Harrods, getting stuck with a congestion charge for the TARDIS. It was a good episode. She broke a nail in the wrong part of the time stream.

THE SCYTHE OF NUTRITION

In the news today, doctors announce that the nation's unhealthy diet is, in fact, costing more to the NHS than smoking-related disorders. At least one doctor is urging the government to take firm action, raising taxes, adding health warnings and generally rallying against nutritionally poor food types - your crisps, your junk food, your buttery products - much as the campaign against cigarettes has developed over the last twenty years.

Has anyone noticed that, whatever we do, everyone will die? And I mean, everyone. Eat well, don't smoke, exercise, take vitamins, bathe in the blood of fair maidens - the end result is always the same - you will die.

Health taxation seems to be missing that point. We have to die from something. No amount of raising taxes in the name of protecting the nation's health can change that. You keep raising these taxes, people are going to die from exhaustion where they have to work all hours of the day to pay them. Then what are you gonna do, Mister Chancellor? Tax wages?!! I think you'll find you already covered that one at the outset.

Benjamin Franklin assured us that there are two things which are guaranteed in life - death and taxes. Do we really have to keep upping the latter in some vain attempt to stave off the inevitability of the former?

THE GUILTY BUTLER CLICHÉ

I admire Barry Manilow for being the only musician, so far as I am aware, to create a mystery thriller in a pop song.

Some genres are ideally suited to a specific facet of the media. It's tough, for example, to do 24 hour rolling news in a monthly magazine. Mathematics textbooks don't translate very well to the silver screen. And, on the overwhelming majority of evidence, crime thrillers do not, repeat, do not work as pop songs.

But - somehow - Barry Manilow managed to conquer this apparently insurmountable mountain. Because at the Copacabana, where music and passion was always in fashion, we are offered that tantalising second verse cliff-hanger...

"There was blood and a single gunshot but just who shot who?"

And, in a continued display of genius, Barry did the whole thing to a good beat.

Diamond-wearing Rico was sentenced to 20 years for shooting Tony but was paroled after twelve years having been a model prisoner. He is now retired and living in the New York City Rhythm with Mandy.

THE PICK-ME-UP

Does Starbucks really say "coffee" to you? If I were starting up a coffee shop tomorrow, I can't imagine coming up with Starbucks as a name. Because it has all these strange, slightly negative connotations.

It's Star, then Bucks. That's, like, one of these * followed by some of these $$$. You stick that together you get this *$$$.

And that, my friends, is Donald Duck swearing. Four random symbols stuck together - it's how comic books show bad language. When Bruce Banner stubs his toe and realises he's about to turn into the Hulk, he's giving it plenty of *$$$, I can assure you.

I recommend the next time you feel the urge to curse, just say "Starbucks". It's the swearword polite society has been waiting for.

THE MEASURE OF A MAN

It's all getting too easy. What we need is another new system of measurement.

Because, the feet and inches seemed to worked okay up to about 1970, so the introduction of metres and centimetres was wilfully thrust upon us. Even today, when they describe a bank robber on the news, we are told his height in feet and inches. We still travel by miles. But we have a whole generation of schoolchildren who have been educated with the new system, never get to use it and have no conception of what either measurement really looks like in their mind's eye because of it.

So let's introduce a third system, keep the thing moving, pile on some more confusion. Rods? Are they a measurement system? What about the cubit, what's that mean? Furlongs, knots - there are plenty of systems we can plant wholesale into the education system, mix things up a bit.

Or we could just introduce a brand new system.

"How big is the office space here?"

"Sixteen square spice girls."

"Ooo, spacious!"

THE RATINGS WAR

One of the more perverse trends of television in the last couple of years has been the growth of the inappropriate holiday programme. Spain, Holland, Canada - these kinds of places aren’t enough for our intrepid holiday reporter. No, he has to try to sell us on the merits of going to Afghanistan, Chechnya or Iraq, maybe one of those tiny Congo republics that's been in a constant state of civil war since before I was born. And he's there, in the midst of a war zone, telling us what sort of sights the tourist might see.

What? Plummeting bombs? Grenades? Dead bodies? Come on, guys - these people are at war. Let's give them some dignity.

Seems to me that the tourist board of a war torn country has no sense of priorities. Sort out your country, first, guys, really. It's only fair to all the other holiday destinations who get along peacefully.

The ancient temples of Afghanistan may be fascinating to look at - right now probably isn't the right time to be looking at them. War isn't a spectator sport, television people. It's not like some local custom that tourists can just fawn over.

THE HOLD-UP JOB

It's tough to queue in a bank without feeling like you're casing the joint.

You're waiting in the queue, you've got nothing better to do, you can’t help but watch when a member of staff types in their little code and goes into the back room. You're counting in your head when that door closes behind them. It buzzes for two, three seconds and you're thinking, "I could get through that. Two strides, I'd be inside. What are they going to do?"

There have to be a few bank robbers who got started like this. They were just queuing for a long time, got bored, saw the opportunity. The CCTV footage shows them standing around, counting the time it takes for that door to close. Just like you or me.

THE LET'S-NOT-AND-SAY-WE-DID FORMULA

I'm getting mighty tired of the anti-smoking lobby now. Smoking's bad for you, I get that. The warning on the side of the cigarette packet and on all the advertising makes it pretty clear. Smoking and illiteracy don't go hand in hand as far as I'm aware. There's really no need to make a great big song and dance out of it every time someone puts up an advertising hoarding in the same country where children are being raised.

The smokers seem like a more considerate group to me. There's no hard core of smokers insisting we have a National Smoking Week, is there? You know, a whole week where everyone has to smoke. No, they're happy to carry on puffing away, not interfering with anyone else. Lower stress levels, I think - they take things more in their stride.

With the anti-smoking lobby I think it's become an addiction. Maybe they could develop a patch or something, wean these people off their obsessive whining.

MY ONE TRACK MIND

In today's news, a woman is suing a railway company for negligence after she drove into the path of an oncoming train at an open level crossing. According to the report, Karen Schofield was hit by a moving train and shunted 100 metres along the track after she drove her BMW across an unmanned level crossing. Her claim was that the crossing gates were open and she couldn't see the warning sign.

Okay, now, drivers, Karen especially - please consider... When you are driving (that's the thing where you're behind the wheel of a vehicle), you need to pay attention. It's as simple as that. If you drive into the path of an oncoming train at a level crossing that's your fault. If a train hits you while you're on the train tracks that's your fault.

Now, if a train had hit you while you were on a motorway some miles away from any train tracks, that's the rail company's fault, Karen, I grant you that. If you were hit by a train while in the middle of a supermarket - yes, please sue the train company. Swimming in the Atlantic and a train drops from the skies and lands on your face - entirely their fault. You're on the Moon, driving the moon buggy, playing a few rounds of golf and a train cuts you up - their fault.

But while you're driving over train tracks... not their fault. Because, you see, you can look left and right, see if anything is coming, decide the appropriate measures to take if a train is hurtling towards you (for example: apply brake). The train diver only has one way to go. He's travelling at high speed, he might slow down but he can’t hop the kerb to avoid you, turn off the track to go around you, pull into a siding because you want to drive over his path. It doesn't work like that.

If this woman wins her case for negligence the rail company must be able to counter sue for moronicide.

THE HIGH POINT

Walking on stilts is the real world answer to having superpowers. You know, you're up there, looking down on everyone else, head in the clouds. Okay, so not really in the clouds, but maybe nine feet high, something like that.

There are pros and cons to wearing stilts.

On the plus side, you can reach the high shelves, nobody blocks your light when you're reading, you can see who's making that noise down the street without really going to much effort.

On the down side, you really have to duck to get into the house, nobody wants to give you a lift into town and it's tough to find clothes that fit.

You see those houses they build in swampland or near rivers - Louisiana, places like that - they build the whole house on stilts. In that house everyone has superpowers. Step out the door - you're back to being Clark Kent again, I'm afraid.

THE STOCK PHRASING

Who are these people who wake up and smell the coffee?

You're told that when you miss the point, aren’t you? "Most people are scared of klowns, Krusty - no-one wants to invest in your theme park... When are you going to wake up and smell the coffee?"

But, is anyone really waking up, smelling coffee? I figure only very rich people are. Bill Gates. Donald Trump. Richard Branson. Bruce Wayne. Their butler comes into their bedroom with the cafetierre on the silver tray, "Good morning, sir." They're, like, "Sniff, sniff... Mmmm-mmm, coffee!"

But, speaking for the average joe, we're waking up and thinking about maybe making some coffee. It seems that these people who are telling us to wake up and smell the coffee - they are really the ones who are, in actuality, missing the point.

They should change that phrase to "wake up and make some coffee". Now, that would make some kind of sense.

SAFETY MATCH OF THE DAY #4

Vivienne Westwood versus Clint Eastwood.