That's Just Ridiculous! with GUY & PAUL

Here is the final podcast of season one, recorded before we take a break and prepare to return in 2020.  It finds us in relaxed and reflective mood looking out at a grey seascape from Paul's house in Whitstable, reviewing their first year of podding.  We look forward to returning to you, our kind and valued listeners, rejuvenated and refreshed in spring 2020. Until then, have a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year. Keep the faith.   See you on the other side. Love Paul and Guy X

A fast moving and sometimes fierce pod, in which battle lines between the friends are drawn up, attacked and defended with gusto.  Paul continues his political journey to the left with trips to the food bank, and Guy does his best to get him to vote Tory before it's too late.  But when the shouting has subsided the lads share a tender moment about no longer living together in Pilton, and reaffirm their abiding love for each other despite both believing the other one is wildly wrong on almost every subject.  Paul finishes with a light hearted anecdote about nearly murdering a prime minister.

Therapy, camping, Bukowski, being a writer and gay easyjet stewards.  Add hungry children, drawing and cruelty and you have this weeks' podcast. 

The two friends discuss plans for the forthcoming season of good cheer.  Paul proposes to liven up Christmas with a pagan celebration that includes animal sacrifices, upside down Christmas trees, and dinner in the West End.  Guy delivers a very brief moral lecture and unburdens himself of some horrific culinary confessions before they both confront the food that dare not speak its name.

From a couple of armchairs in front of the woodburner on a rainy morning we discuss old age, eco militarism, and Prince Andrew's passport.  Paul, as an expert, comes up with a working definition of the verb 'to party'.  We then pass via Isadora Duncan's scarf and castration onto the subject of transgender people, which in our characteristic manner we gave a considered and balanced ragging.

This week the friends discuss the Catholic Church. Paul was brought up in the religion and so feels qualified to speak on the subject. Guy has little experience of it but offers his opinion anyway. The conversation then veers into the subject of celebrity crushes. Could it be true that Guy has never had one? You, dear listener, must decide for yourself.

On a crisp sunny winter’s day, we pod from Paul’s house on the beach at Whitstable.  We sample oysters Paul picked from the foreshore, and hear about his adventures on his boat, the Lamia.   Beach huts, sex and death also all come under consideration as we discuss his new home town.

This week we talk about the fatbergs clogging our sewers and what to do about them; Paul interviews Guy for a job as his butler, and then admonishes him for behaving too politely in restaurants.  We finish with a look at some old proverbs while Paul indulges in some good old fashioned work place harassment. 

A pod for the hard core fans of That’s Just Ridiculous.  We tramp across the outer limits of taste and decorum as we submit Gary Glitter lyrics to a forensic textual analysis, then charge through flight shame, virtual reality and rapist shamen.  Sit forward and pin your ears back. Your sick bag is in the seat pocket in front of you.

Still in Jamaica, we talk in the evening over a glass or two of rum.  We discuss bars, clubs, benders, and country dances we have recently enjoyed.  Paul turns the talk to Xtinction Rebellion, and Guy explains what he would do in the event of a revolution.  We round off with a good dose of psychedelic drugs and Paul’s move to the seaside.

This week we are again in Jamaica and are proud to have our first ever guest on That's Just Ridiculous.  In the heat of the night we enjoy conversation with Cuba, an old friend, who talks about Jamaican life today and in the past.  We hope you enjoy his stories as much as we did.

           This week the friends broadcast from the fading colonial splendour of the Liguanea Club, Kingston, Jamaica.  They talk about attending a gathering of gay men in the capital of one the most homophobic countries in the world.  Paul mentions his racist psychologist, and guy reveals his ambition to become the cockfighting king of West Jamaica.

Over a bottle of Macon Rouge from the prestigious vintner Aldi, the two pals enjoy a typically far ranging conversation.  Polyamoury and harems come under discussion, then Guy boasts about his bargee blood, and Paul describes a drunken prank.  This leaves time for Ian Dury story, a discussion of criminal pathology and a roundup of recommended medical appliances.

This is an usual episode because we spend nearly all the half hour talking about one thing: a documentary about a road traffic incident on the M5 made in 2011.  Never say we don't have our finger on the pulse of contemporary culture.  We manage to squeeze in some James Taylor and a short interview with Bob Dylan and George Harrison.

The picture accompanying this week's pod is of Paul in drag.  He has photoshopped it heavily because I can assure you he looked nothing like as good as this in real life.  We discuss Paul's fatal taste for cross dressing, have a good rant about art speak, and hear the tale of the extraordinary time Jude Law based a performance in a major movie on Paul.  

The Pod is one year old!  Happy Birthday to us.  And thank you all for coming to this our little birthday party.  On a September afternoon we celebrate over a cup of tea and talk about the year that's passed.  Paul tells me about ineffective hangover cures and I advise him how to prevent room spin.  We plan summoning a demon at Sawain, chat about Jeffrey Archer's writing technique, and for musical accompaniment, Paul gives a tender a cappella rendition of Black Sabbath.  Here's to another year of That's Just Ridiculous!      

Some episodes are better than others, and this is a good one, with a fine balance between the absurd and the ridiculous.   We start somehow on the artist Barbara Kruger and warm up on billboard statements.  It is not long before Paul is absolving Guy's sins and talking about confessing during his childhood to a kind Roman Catholic priest.  We then discuss the art of recording music, a subject which Guy knows absolutely nothing about, and undertake a line-by-line textual analysis of the pop song Blinded By The Light.

In this episode we discuss a forthcoming project to consume an entire restaurant dinner in reverse.   We ask listeners to give us recommendations for a suitable eatery.  Please get in touch and help us on this misguided enterprise.

We podded this week after a fine lunch at The Chapel in Bruton, which set us up for a conversation starting with butterflies and ending in Ibiza.  On the trip we encountered gin, the ancient mariner, crying, and masturbation, or as Paul daintily called it, 'the hand in the service of the imagination'.  Lie back and think of That's Just Ridiculous.  Come on, we all do it.

Paul gives us a touching account of his childhood and his relationship with his mother, who sweetly called the young lad 'The Devil's Child.'  Over the decades since, Paul has not changed, and later in the pod sneers at Guy's more fortunate start in life.  Guy takes the opportunity to make the TJR annual appeal on behalf of a good cause, in this case a needy Irishman who has fallen on bad times through little fault of his own.  But even a small donation will make no difference.

It was another tough week for Guy, still on the painkillers, and Paul puts the boot in.  He never misses a chance to hit a man when he's down.  Guy milks it for all it's worth.  Paul also has time to give advice on serviettes, negative ionisers and mixing a whisky sour.

Guy has a slipped disc and recorded this pod under the influence of diverse and heavy pain killers.  Listeners may or may not notice him rambling more incoherently than normal.  Luckily, Paul takes up the slack and ensures the delivery of a sparkling half hour.  To be taken aurally, with alcohol, until symptoms pass.

This week's pod starts with an acapella rendition of our theme tune, setting the tone for a gentle, reflective half hour.  Paul s starts with a feelings check, and we move on naturally to tidying my tool shed and Paul blocking people on FB.  We talk about the triumphs and disasters of our teenage wardrobes, and finish with a discussion about what to do in an airplane that's crashing.  

We missed the pod deadline for the second time in our ten months of existence, on account of operational complexities occasioned by a fine dinner followed by poire william and many godfathers.  But on Saturday afternoon we sat down to pod, starting with the sad tale of Jo Meek, the man who made Telstar.  We thought we were a bit negative about the Glastonbury Festival last week, and realised that Michael Eavis might hear about it and as he dishes out the free tickets,  decided that a second more positive review might be advisable.  It turned out we had a belter of a day on Sunday watching the Cure on acid (us not them) and we are happy to set the record straight.  Paul then beguiles me with glamour heavy tales of being a mega DJ in the 90s at Ibiza's top night spot Nocturnal Emission.    

The two friends make a report from the front line at the Glastonbury Festival.  After hearing this  you can save yourself 240 quid and tell people you were there.  They review gigs by Interpol, Keane, The Killers and the Chemical Brothers.  Security and the drugs policy also come under sober consideration.  Go backstage with Paul to the VIP area and the mosh pit with Guy.  Peace and love and let's see your wrist band son.

The two friends are currently at the Glastonbury Festival, and little has been heard from them for 24 hours.  Paul was last seen lavishing kisses and hugs on a long lost friend, who turned out to be a total stranger.  Next week they will file a full and frank report of their festival highs and lows.

The two friends are reunited, and ready to make up for last weeks missing pod.  They extol the joys of ferry trips, the 100 years war, and the night before Glastonbury Festival, as well as warning of the perils of peaking too early and knowing too many Beatles lyrics in Cuban bars.

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION!

This week the gents attempt to understand the nature of our changing world and the role of risk and danger in our daily lives. Is there room for the maverick in our increasingly small world? Are wars necessary or can we make do with football? Can humans be domesticated? The big questions get an airing and the implications are profound.

It’s Awards Week in podland.  The prizes were handed out to the nation’s favourite pods and Guy fails to hide his disappointment that THAT’S JUST RIDICULOUS did not make the podium. It’s a bitter pill to swallow and unfortunately one that you don’t get high on.  Paul doesn’t give a shit.  We also talk about how we would act under torture, male grooming, Andrew Motion, and Paul’s late night acting out on the internet.

Listen to another closely focused podcast from the men who are Just Ridiculous.  We start with Farage, hop to the ancient Greeks and thence Paul's account of starting a revolution in Portugal.  That's the first four minutes.  We hear the friends discuss the rights and wrongs of telling friends their partners are shite, and then discuss modern trophy hunting in all its glories.  It's soon time to plan a foreign trip to pod at Chernobyl, Paul's spiritual home, before wrapping up with Jeff Bezos, living in space and the time Martian houseguests overstayed their welcome .

Friendship?  Can you wear it out with overuse? After recording 36 podcasts together, the boys discuss this rather sensitive topic. Paul then gives us a feelings check and lets his buttons get pushed.  Guy reveals what came up at his first ever tarot reading, and the two of them make fun of cruise ship holidays.

This week the two friends take their ease in front of the fire.  Paul breaks the congenial mood playing a love song to Guy on his guitar, but Guy, as forgiving as ever doesn't hold it against him.  They then discuss street begging, busking and other promising career opportunities for Paul.  Talk turns inevitably to high tension cables,  stag dos and restaurant troubadours.

The two friends are back in Somerset podding in front of the fire. They open on Kafka and how his life was such a doddle compared to the average citizen's these days.  Pablo the cat slinks into the room to listen in.  Recently Pablo has been ignoring the friends and the two of them discuss the fickleness of the pet.  It's time then for a run through of the local Glastonbury magazine, the magnificent Oracle.  The boys search for a way to heal themselves, but is it too late?

After their tropical break the two friends are back at base to tease out the difficulties of single use plastics and the sustainable development of the male inflatable doll. Paul also posits the the theory of the multiverse in which there are a million versions of himself. It concludes, logically enough, with animal poo in distant Myanmar.

In the last of their sextet of Jamaican transmissions we find the two friends in full holiday mode, settling down with rum at sunset. Paul recommends books to be read in Jamaica and they debate the shortcomings of Ian Fleming villains. Paul explains to Guy the benefits of Grand theft auto, and the two of them come up with a solution to the problem that is the United States of America.  

In a surprise political development and on the grounds that he is unlikely to be able to make matters any worse Paul Fryer is made UK Prime Minister. We listen to his first cabinet meeting and hear some of his plans for the country. The two friends then discuss Jamaican nuclear power, Glastonbury pubs and the blue glow coming from Paul's studio. 

This week the pals, still hiding in Jamaica, get personal. Guy insults Paul's swimming style and Paul goes for Guy's belly. Then things get a bit more emotional as Guy tells Paul that he is to be a gravedigger on the morrow...

In the shade of an almond tree, with the breeze blowing off the Caribbean, our two friends fire off another Jamaican pod. They talk about the growing Chinese empire, about working in the rain, fine burgundy and ganja. The relative merits of the I -Ching and English muffins also come under scrutiny. Guy discusses friendship and Paul talks about musical theatre and his washboard stomach. Does not contain Brexit.

At their ease beside the Caribbean sea, the two friends delight in a passing light aircraft, and investigate the Jamaicanness of James Bond, who was created by Ian Fleming only thirty miles up the coast.  They discuss TV watching habits on the island, Dick Van Dyke on acid, and the pronunciation of Hereford.  Then the time and place seems right for Paul to tell the colourful tale of Deep Sky Radio,  his sunken pirate station.  

This week we find the friends marooned on the northern coast of the island of Jamaica.  While a sea breeze ruffles the trees and birds sing in the bright sun, they chat about the village of Cousins Cove, where they are staying.  The conversation, as usual, is wide ranging, from Guy having his car towed in London, to an appeal to our many listeners in California. This pod is well paired with a Red Stripe.

On a sunny day the friends sit outside to enjoy the weather.  Against a backdrop of birdsong, they talk about birds, ladybirds and atomic bombs;  but in an unforeseen escalation Paul declares martial law, attempts to arrest and then summarily execute Guy.  Again.

After Paul launches the pod the two oddballs get down to some clubbable talk.  Guy tells us about the time he was caught in a hurricane, and Paul dusts off some of his large collection of unreleased Jimmy Saville stories from the archive. Justice and Hypocrisy come up for discussion before the inevitable detour into rocket science, a staple of Paul's pod ramblings.  Then things suddenly turn dark - and the pod ends not with a whimper, but a bang...

This week the two friends talk about Guy's cat Pablo, who has some problems, discussing his new medication. They move on to a recent walk up the Glastonbury Tor, and Guy tries to send Paul back in time to get him burnt as a witch, but fails.  A conversation about war movies and their relevance to Brexit concludes with a rousing (or pathetic depending on your political views) rendition of Nimrod in a Tesco Car Park. 

This week we find the friends in a speculative mood.  After creating a safe space to talk in, Paul advances the theory that humans from the future are living amongst us, and Guy talks about the time a teenage Jesus Christ stayed in his house in Somerset.  They move on to sex with computers, stockpiling toilet paper and people who put empty bottles back in the fridge.

In the aftermath of his recent London book launch, Guy describes a calamitous visit to the Sky News television studios, part of an ongoing promotional peregrination which he is compelled to endure. Paul responds with a light hearted tale of his family's bungling criminality. Guy tests Paul on a glossary of obsolete drug terms sent in by a loyal listener. A short lecture on the contents of cheap pork sausages rounds up this weeks pod.

Paul returns from an Polar expedition where he realised a lifelong ambition and saw the Northern Lights whilst dogging. Guy shares his anxieties about his forthcoming publication but is sensitively reassured by Paul who promises to punch anyone who doesn't like it. The subject of cycling raises issues of discrimination against heavier road users. Paul then bemoans his status as a commoner and suggests a new role for himself as a member of the royal family

Munching chocolates our two podders talk about the time Paul met God in a field.  Paul then uses his elevated spiritual state to solve a moral dilemma for Guy.  They discuss the merits of possessing swagger before talking about the nylon curtain on European flights that separates First Class from Economy.

Do you find it difficult to enter a room full of strangers? Do you want some help breaking the ice at social events? Well this is the pod for you. After drawing last week's espionage related issues to a close the two friends brainstorm an idea which could change the world forever. Drawing on their experience as social butterflies, they propose to run a two day course  to help us all in a wide range tricky social situations.  Guy suggests modules, and Paul joins in, role-playing to give the idea of how the course might work in practice.  Welcome to to the Faculty of Social Arts, proprietors Dr. P. Fryer and Professor Kennaway, both recently professionally  struck on.  The name of the course? Don't Be Shy With Paul & Guy.  Sign up now for the full diploma!

Our heroes, for obvious reasons, have received the call from spooks at M.I. something to do important undercover work in the interests of national security. When you need discretion, reliability and precision planning who better to ask?  The two friends discuss the mission and their tactics.  Paul suggests infiltrating Bob Geldoff.  Guy begs him not to be too hasty in case the legend has hidden IUDs.  Paul questions Guy’s motives; surely service is it’s own reward? Or are we in it for the honours? Kennaway & Fryer:  The Spies Who Love You.

This week Guy and Paul get into a pointless argument about manly cologne whilst trying desperately to overcome post festive malaise. But not before they’ve discussed New Year Resolution rockets and male pattern monogamy. The result? A mid pod crisis ensues and all seems lost...