Three Bean Salad - Teachers

Episode Date: April 19, 2023

This week the Bean Machine, having been pre-loaded by Luke (of Bremen?), spits out the topic of teachers. It’s time for the beans to think about how many Alsatians is too many Alsatians. Also the dear listeners are called upon to help solve a cereal based codger mystery.Join our PATREON for ad-free episodes and a monthly bonus episode: www.patreon.com/threebeansaladGet in touch:[e-mail]@beansaladpod

three bean salad first Henry is eating a bacon sandwich. It's quite exciting. We're recording this at the crack of dawn. Yeah, it's a very, very early. So it's barely light outside, isn't it? It's so I love it. I mean, this is the time I'm normally sat here waiting for you guys for a couple of hours, just you know, you just sit, don't you? The main problem is I haven't yet shifted my the mucous that sort of sits on my lungs as I wake up. That's you know, I've had the deep physical

coughs yet that come from you haven't de-sluffed your outer casing yet. That's very much still there. Because normally you wait for it to solidify and then you break out of it, don't you? The outer shell is sort of semi gelatinous at the moment, isn't it? It's still quite soft. So I got confused Henry, because also the the plug of mucous I normally wait for that to harden into a solid as well. I know, because then you can you cough it out out of I think

three possible or if I isn't it can come out of I don't know which way it's gonna go, it's gonna pop out. But it's an internal convulsion, isn't it? And then just sheer force, isn't it? Sheer pressure. It often it often actually comes out of the beam machine, cause untold damage to the mechanism. Yeah. But if it's not too hard, it can be used, can't it? It's a sort of flame retardant, quite pliable building material and grease grease things with it and the grease.

Yes. For heavy machinery. Well, you see, it's a classic case, isn't it? It's those natural products, which are so hard for technology to replicate, isn't it? Because the complexity of the when you zoom into it, there's a real beauty isn't it to the fibers, the mucous fibers, the way that they're crystalline, they fan and crystallize and crystalline polysaccharide weft, isn't there?

That's right. Yeah. It's very similar to what the the jutes used to oil their eldest children before battle. Here, but the eldest son would be sometimes so slippery, he could slip through a phalanx of infantrymen, archers, horses, he could sublates straight into the next batch of straight through out the other end, into the battle that was planned for later on that day.

So yeah, it is a bit early. I mean, we should put this in proper context, probably half the UK workforce is probably already hard at it. Oh, rush hour is well over. The roads are empty. Yeah, so it's not, it's not like it feels entertainment industry early, but it's yeah, yeah, showbiz has a different dawn. It really does. It's certainly not Baker early, is it? If it bakers, it's like, it's tomorrow for bakers, isn't it?

Because they've already done their sleep for today. Do you mean that that I don't know what a baker is doing right now? Needing. Needing. Yeah. Is this leather? Is this, is this, I said, I was going to say leisure time for bakers, but I said leather time. Oh, yeah. Probably is leather.

Exactly. Is there a difference? They say that the body wakes up in a certain order. And I feel like I'm, I maybe haven't woken up in exactly the right order or the order is still going. That would explain why your face looks like a Picasso painting. Yeah.

Not everything's in place here. There is a touch of the old unsolved rubrics to you. Yeah. Yeah. I've got two eyes around the left, haven't I? I feel like I'm making quite a satirical point about the Spanish Civil War, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I think I need to get through Picasso, I need to get into his blue phase, where at least, at least you can see there's a woman sitting at a table in front of some potatoes.

It's a bit bluer than you'd like, but you sort of roughly know where you are. I'm in my Goya Horrors of War sketches phase, I think, at this time in the morning, sort of, you know, prostate bodies, prostrate or prostate? Prostrate, I think. Yes. Your prostate is something else. Your prostate is, I think, is

in the in the Dali phase of waking up at the moment. Yeah, that's still very much like a liquid clock. Whereas Mike is kind of vital, like a little. He's as pert and fresh as a Mike with a pearl earring. He's a perfect little, gorgeous little Vermeer. Your colours are perfect. Are you enjoying the way the light is catching my left earlobe? Just so.

Oh, it's playing over it. It's so realistic. It's so loving the way it looks like it's dancing over it. And the way that you're just gently pouring fresh, fresh hot milk from that earthenware jug, and it just keeps pouring, but it doesn't run out. It's extraordinary, but at the same time, it doesn't spill over. How do you?

Well, this is what you get if you catch me early enough. And you're pouring it into the pale of a delighted monk. The way that the light is playing across his face from that candle is incredible. I could see from that monk's red cheeks that he's a ribbled monk, isn't he? He is, but he's a good lad, Edwin. And he knows to stay quiet during the recording.

That's right. Because he's a bit too ribbled for this show. Oh, that ribbled, ribbled monk. Oh, that ribbled Dutch monk. And I don't know if it's some sort of maiden in the background I can see through a lattice window. She's got a very, very complicated head handkerchief. I think she's doing the dance of the veils, hasn't she?

She's doing the dance of the veils, isn't she? It really is quite the Dutch courtyard, isn't it, with what's going on in the background now? That's my chastity escort. She's there to make sure that nothing untoward happens with me and Edwin during the recording. And the candle that's sort of dripping in the background and the candle that's sort of dripping wax over an old skull.

That's just always there, isn't it? That's just Mike's desk lamp. Okay, well, I feel like I think I'm getting a bit better. I'm going to have another bite. You know, I'm going to return to this little fella, my bacon sandwich, have another bite, see what happens. Absolutely dripping with ketchup. Yeah, I've got this thing in my mind, which is

if I get up early, it's everything which I think it justifies a bacon sandwich or a sort of full English. I think of sort of builders and, you know, the people that actually make this country bloody work, you know what I mean? The engineers, the... I don't know what I'm talking about. Oh, God.

The signalman, the single woman. The single... A signalman and the single woman. All the signal ladies, all the signal ladies, all the signal ladies. If it wasn't for the single woman, this country would grind to a halt. So here's to you, single woman.

No, like... And also plumbers and plasterers. It'd be great if Beyonce did all the signal women. Maybe for a rail strike or something. So put your flags up. If you liked it, then you should have got the right ticket, because I'm afraid I'm going to have to charge you again. This is from the north-eastern rail,

and you're on a southern train, I'm sorry. Yeah, that sort of works, isn't it? That's actually like a little bit of comedy there, like a comedy routine. A little poke in the eye to big train. Oh, yeah, when I'm up at the crack, I think I've just got to get like a bacon roll or full English type thing into me,

and it does work, actually, that combo. And the ketchup, it's all about having... I always ask for two ketchup when I get a bacon roll. Because my anecdote part of my brain hasn't woken up yet, you see. I haven't woken up in the right order. So you're sort of dipping your toe into sea if there was another... Yeah, I was dipping my toe in, I wasn't sure.

Oh, just a bit of... It did awaken the beginnings of an anecdote in my brain, but again, I don't think it's fully formed, so I'm going to try it. Okay, yeah. Let's have a go. But be kind. Last week, I had fish and chips,

and I asked for 12 ketchups. It's a very strong start, then. Doesn't go much further than that. Doesn't go much further. It's all headline, really. I've got a feeling it has a sad ending, Miss. No, not at all. It was just that I've come...

Were they obliged? I've come to realise that, really, the size of the ketchup packet they give you is absurd. Yeah, I agree. Most people get one, sometimes two. I did the mental maths. It came to 12. I said 12.

He did look surprised, and it did come to about £3, and I should have gone to a newsagents and bought a bottle. Of course. But he knew he never should have got rid of that big old dispenser that you have to use your elbows to press down on on the full weight of three members of your family. But, yeah, anecdote-wise, I think that's all...

That's done and dusted already. I think that was quite good, Ben. I enjoyed that. That's good, yeah. People who might be listening later on in the day might score it differently as an anecdote. I don't know, but for me, at this time of day, that was tip-top.

Yes, I do think the audiences should try and listen to this as soon as they wake up. Mm-hmm. Yeah. By the way... Oh! That has really put me up. Whoo-hoo, I think.

Um... It was quite a loveless bacon roll, I've got to say. Because what I've done today is I've brought Costa to the studio, which I don't normally do. The Costa can be enjoyed on the road. Yeah. As well as in one of their over 2,000 restaurants. They are restaurants.

And they are restaurants. We're very clear about that. I think it obeys the legal rule of what a restaurant is, because if it can serve a hot egg, a warm noodle, and has a tap, it's technically a restaurant. Yeah.

It does the minimum. Costa, it does the minimum. It does the minimum. He's also got a pasty? No, it's a croissant. No, it's a croissant, surely. It's a croissant which they give you an evidence bag. Doesn't inspire much confidence.

Yeah. But you get some understanding why no one wants that croissant anymore. Why it's no longer needed. Yeah. It's the name of the victim on the back. Just a society. When you're eating Costa food outside of the ambience, the considered ambience of the restaurant,

which they've spent so many manos, perfecting the environment in which to eat, slightly disappointed making so much. And some hogwash coffee. Oh, the people they brought in to get their ambience just right. Yeah, what's it like taking it out of the ambience of the Costa? Have you ever seen a vampire when it goes into broad daylight? No.

It's sort of, yeah, it doesn't... It's just screaming dust. Yeah. It does have screaming dust vibes to it. Yeah. I've had Weetbix this morning, made by my own Fairhand, with garnish of grape nuts,

a little sprinkling of luxury on the top there, Ben. Yeah. And Mike, what have you dined on? Hog on a spit. Yeah. I bet the monk helped with that. I love that. That ribald monk.

Of course, Edwin was... He caught the hog and we spitted it together. And yeah, I overdid it a bit. I've done myself a bit of a mischief, so I'm feeling a bit sluggish now, but I think I'll be all right. I'll kick him to gear. I am quite interested in to know what all our breakfasts are, if we're okay, if we're comfortable talking about it.

I've just told you about it. So I'm interested in grape nuts, because grape nuts are a slight maverick among cereals, aren't they? They're kind of, who are they for? Would you ever eat grape nuts solo? Well, by myself, not surrounded by friends and family, you're in. Exactly. That was question one.

Are you mad? Of course not. It's extremely intense experience. I'm not doing that by myself. Grape nuts is the most ritualistic of all the cereals. Surely. Absolutely. It's much like doing LSD. You need to surround yourself by people you trust.

Yeah. It will help you through the trip. Yeah. Because if you end up having a bad nut, because you can have a bad nut, you can't have a grape nut. I remember you had once one, Ben, didn't you? Where you thought you were milk.

Do you remember? You were haunted by it. It certainly reveals the truth of the universe. I remember looking at the box and just screaming, you're neither grape nor nut. That's a very good point. Nor are they anywhere close to being a hybrid of grape and nut.

If you were to mix a grape and nut, you wouldn't get anything near a grape nut either. You'd get an acorn or something, wouldn't you? The other thing which perplexed me about them is one of those products where it's almost like, is it even real or is it part of our... Did I imagine it? The grape nuts exist.

There are different sides from all the other cereal boxes. Yes. They've got their own size. Yes. And the lettering is confident as well. So it feels like you should know about grape nuts where they grow under the ground, on a bush, up a tree, off the back of a monkey.

What's the deal? Are you aware of, a few years ago, our mutual friend Henry Whidicum bought a box of grape nuts and saw on the side that they had a Twitter account at grape nuts that was printed on the box. He went on Twitter to add them to his Twitter, people who's following.

Of course. And realised they hadn't actually registered it. So he registered it and was the official grape nuts Twitter for a while. They must have hunted him down, surely? They did eventually start... Yeah, they approached him and now, sadly,

it's gone back into their ownership. But for a moment, it was absolutely fantastic. He was the voice of grape nuts. Now, I'm having a memory now of another cereal that I think falls into a similar category. OK. But I can't quite remember what they were like. They were sort of like flakes

and they hadn't... You're not talking about... Hang on there. No. They were kind of like wheat flakes and the cereal packet had like an old man on the front. Do you know what I'm talking about?

I don't think I know this one. That's not ringing any bells at all. And they were like, gossamer thin. Was it thin as the flakes in Just Right? Kellogg's Just Right, because those are thin. Thinner than that. I do like those, though. But thinner than that. I'm going to say it again. They were gossamer thin.

They sound so thin. They're gossamer thin. Were they just called gossamer thins? They should have been. Have you noticed that the phrase gossamer thin is never used in society, apart from in novels, when almost everything is gossamer thin? That's a very good point.

Yes, I think that might be just now is probably the first time I've heard it in spoken language. Also, whenever I read something that's gossamer thin, I think, that's really conjured up how thin that is. Cricky. Cricky, that. When I think of the gossamer that I've got in my chest of drawers. But that's the thing. That's the point.

I can tell you right now for a fact, for a cold, stony, hard, cold, hard fact, I don't know what gossamer is. What is it? I know it's as thin as everything in a novel. I think it might also be, I think it might also be wispy. What is it? I think is it like silk? Okay, gossamer.

I think of it, I think it's like a silk. Yeah, silk plus. Oh, we're both wrong. I've just looked it up. What is it? Is it a cereal? It's a fine film of cobwebs that is often seen floating in the air or caught on bushes or grass. Is it really?

There's me thinking that you could get a kerchief of gossamer, but you can't, can you? Well, the second definition is something that is light, delicate, or sheer, such as fabric. But that brings us back to your internal mucal plug, Ben, doesn't it? It's that delicacy of weft that's in the fibres there, that again, it's that classic thin, gossamer silk. It's always natural products, isn't it, that can achieve that?

Right, so delicate and yet also stronger than steel. Yes. The other thing I've noticed in novels, this is a wider novel point, so everything's gossamer thin. And then also, because novelists can't just write walked all the time, he walked to his kitchen, he walked. They have to come up with different words, meaning walked. And they do this a bit with said, because you can't just say said all the time.

Gasped, exclaimed. Exactly. Yeah. And I think for... Mouth tharted. Yeah. Yeah, that's towards the end of the novel when they're really reaching. They're wishing they kept 280 pages.

And I think for said words, they've got quite a lot. And it's okay, they're doing all right there. Walking, they very quickly run out of ones. And all the time I'm reading this in novels, he padded to the bedroom. Padded. He padded on his gossamer thin sandal. Turn sideways and sidled through his gossamer thin doorway. As she marched from the garage and word burped the following.

What the fuck? He vomited. Brackets, figuratively speaking. Close brackets. You want me to put one foot in front of the other and go across the room. She said, while putting one foot in front of the other and going across the room. It's true, and there aren't that many words for walk, are there? No, they come up with some really stupid ones. Padded is the one that annoys me because I've never heard anyone say that in real life.

Yeah, padded is. Here's another thing I've noticed in novels. I don't know what this is about, but for some reason I find that in novels, people are very often described as having grey eyes. Do you miss this? I've literally never once in my whole life ever seen someone with grey eyes. In fact, I'm going to say it, grey eyes don't exist. But do you know, have you ever noticed that?

Yes. People have grey eyes a lot. People also notice the colour of other people's eyes more than people do. I didn't even know how many eyes you guys have got when I'm not looking. I think I picture Ben as a sort of cyclops, I think. And Mike has just a hand that comes out of his mouth and there's an eyeball on the end of each finger. Yeah, the compound eye and the palm.

The compound eye and the palm. Generally, I've shut my eyes now, so if I have to think of what colour eyes you both have. Well, I think Henry is possible with Henry. Henry's are quite distinctive. Well, I have got both eye and eyes. I have got. I've been described many times as having the dead eyes of a shark. Oh yeah, you've mentioned that before.

So they're black, black, they're blacker than black. Exactly, they're darker than... Yeah. Imagine less colour than the absence of colour. It's almost hard to imagine outside of a black hole. It's a sort of... Henry's got the kind of... If you're watching a post-apocalyptic movie,

his eye colour is the kind... You know that it's taken hold. Yes, exactly. Of this person. Yeah. He has succumbed. It's too late. Leave him.

Yeah. He's not Henry anymore. Let's just really quickly pad the hell out of here. Just pad over here now. Pad. All of you, pad, pad. They're coming, pad! Um... Yeah.

If you look at Henry's face, you think... Yeah. That's his chin, normal chin. Yeah, thank you. That's his nose, normal nose. That's his cheeks, normal cheeks. Henry's face. Henry's cheeks. Henry's head.

Henry's forehead. The eyes. Hondgerman. They're called bleak vortices of his eyes. Yeah, they're sort of nightmare eyes. You could imagine them brimming over and a black fluid just sort of... kind of dripping down my cheeks, couldn't you?

As the evil witch will destroy all of us. It finally takes hold. Um, shall we turn on the beam machine? Expostulated Bonderman. With his slate-gray eyes. Staring down the lens of the gossamer-thin laptop. This week, we're going to turn on the beam machine, but we're going to use a beam machine jingle sent in

by one of our fabulous listeners. Jolly good. This is from John. Thank you, John. Here are its dear beans. Please find and close my version of the beam machine jingle. I hope you enjoy Keep The Lukewarm Bantatepid, John, from Brayman Caster.

Lovely. Thanks, John. Very strong. That was nice. Sounds like there's a beam machine emergency setting. Very nice. Thanks, John. Giving me sort of 90s warehouse party vibes. Yeah, I've had a flashback to me with my top-off on a stage in Ibiza,

and everyone in the club circling me and clapping as I was doing moves, and I was going, I was just going crazy and everyone was clapping, and even the DJ went on the mic and said, that is a cool guy. That guy, he's a cool guy. I'm remembering when that happened in Ibiza. You're remembering, aren't you?

Memory is a fickle thing, isn't it? It plays games. Yeah. And that was at the Ibiza annual agricultural show, wasn't it? That's Ibiza, Fa, which is the international brigade of... Threshing automobiles. Yeah, it was...

It was a threshing meet-up. I remember after that, I was so high, I said, OK, the compost's on me, everyone. The compost, all the compost, all night is on me. I regretted that the next day, I can tell you. I had to create that compost myself. You're still paying it off, aren't you? I'm still composting that.

I'm still spreading it. Still spreading it. A very, very good song. Thanks a lot, John. Brilliant work. It reminded me of a feeling. I had a flashback of a feeling, which I think in the 90s, probably at some sort of dancing, you know, some sort of dance event.

For farmers. For all the farmers' daughters. It was the first dance of the season. And that's where all the eldest men in the town spread their composts, and then the farmers' daughters all ducked up and down. And press it in. Press it in. And then everyone gets de-wormed. No.

It reminded me of that feeling of, like, being in those clubs and stuff, and going, why is the music also... Why are we all young, and why are we listening to... Why is it all like this? Guys, does anyone want to put the carpenters on? Why can't we just put the carpenters on? Why can't we just put the carpenters on?

No, this has got something called a melody. What? Why do birds suddenly appear? Still a great question. I still don't know the answer. That's why it's still relevant, that song. Why do they suddenly appear? It's the handfuls of birdseed secreted around the person's person in their pockets.

It's an old flat-jack you forgot about in the back of your trousers. Every time you are near... So instead of taking pills, everyone might take these little buggers I've got in their pockets, called birdseeds. They're a lot more fun. And actually, rather than hallucinating, a demented sort of demonic bird with the face of a teacher from school or whatever,

it doesn't look real demonic... Real demonic... Birds themselves are pretty demonic if you look at them. They're pretty freaky. Let's give a pill to a heron. Let's see what happens. Let's see what it does. I know it's dangerous to bring up topics from the intro

in this section of the podcast. Very dangerous. Have any of the listeners can think of what that gosmothin, crispy, wheaty cereal is? Yeah. Do let us know. This could become a podcast about the guy who had that song in his head that he had to track down.

It could become a really epic journey, this quest to find that cereal and the old man. Yeah, or hopefully we've got someone who works for Bellingcat, who can open-source it for us, working out. Can we track down that cereal and can we track down that old man and how old would he be now? Sorry, which old man?

The gosmothin, old man. The gosmothin. I thought you said there was an old man on the packet sitting in front. Yeah, but I think when I was by old man, I met like Tricorn hat wearing kind of like the Quaker Oats guys, the man of olden times.

You met an oldie man, a ye oldie. I thought you just met an old man. I thought it was a weird, slightly weird marketing. Look at this old man and look at this cereal. He's enjoying the cereal. Maybe you will, too.

Oh, a ye oldie man. Tricorn hat, et cetera. But not, I don't think it is the Quaker Man. That's what people are going to email in there and say. You're going to get a lot of Quaker Man. I don't think it's the Quaker Man. I want to head that off at the path. This old man's thinking about some of the terrible things

he did in Belize. What would you think about when you eat the gosmothin? Gosmophlakes. The Scottish Oatsman. It's not the Scottish Oatsman. Is he tossing a cable or something on the front? Or he's doing shoppers.

I feel like he's doing something sporting. Yeah. It's not him. Your one doesn't sound like he's quite as hewn of muscle as that guy. No, he's more like the face you get on a Toby joke. Ruddy, red with alcohol. Would this cereal get the sort of alcoholic complexion?

Colonialist bastard. Yeah. Oh, was it tasty-weety Colonial Bastans? It was Colonial Bastans. OK, well, this week's topic, as sent in by Luke... Yeah, Luke. Thank you, Luke. ..is teachers. Can I tell you what I think is the lamest song of all time?

Yes, please. And it makes me cringe so much when I hear it, and I can't quite put my finger in one. Don't stand so close to me, eh? LAUGHTER The police's pervy classic. LAUGHTER One of their pervy classics is a number of pervy classics.

Rucks! Oh, yeah. Also, every breath you take. Yeah. Just by putting on that weird voice, you thought we wouldn't notice the pervulence, and it did take us a few decades, but we've noticed it now, mate. We've noticed it, Sting. Do you feel like as a culture we're ready to have a reckoning

about Sting's voice? Like, what's going on there? LAUGHTER Is it... Is it if you turn up Jordy high enough? You can't turn up! Cos you think... Cos I've found a Jordy, and anyone can experience this.

You go to Newcastle, stand close to someone, and they'll say, Yeah, flawless. Yeah? Don't stand so close to me. And don't stand so close to me! It's funny. Yeah, if you really push it.

If you get really, really close, then maybe that's what they do. They go to that Sting voice. Maybe it's just a ramped-up Jordy. It's a my song that I find cringey. Hey! Teachers! Leave those kids alone!

Nothing wrong with the music, necessarily. I find the sentiment... Guys, teachers are just there to teach you to be compliant. Then it's there to teach you to become a cog in the machine. Brick in the wall, if you will. You, seven-year-old, need to think for yourself. Anyone who's met a child knows

that the child can't leave a child to think for themselves. They need to teach... Don't be like everyone else, because, yeah, think outside the box. You can live a totally unique and different life. You don't have to go along with society's norms and conventions and values. I, for one, live in a,

well, sort of mock-tuder, with a huge pile in the cotswolds. And I have over 50 Alsatians, as far as I know. I actually can't keep track of them. That's as many Alsatians you could have. And, yes, I did go to school. I mean, I did...

One of the country's top public schools, yeah. Quite well educated. That's why I invest my money so intelligently, because I have so many friends who have top banking jobs. Bricks and mortar kids. And basically, I mean, I've got so many Alsatians that I didn't even pay for them, because of the complex investments and...

They're doing a sort of tax break, really. Yeah, they're a tax break. Technically owned by the Cayman Islands. So my Alsatians essentially pay for themselves now. I mean, I've got a sleigh that's pulled around by Alsatians. I don't even use it. Do you know what I mean? But they have to do that so they can write themselves off.

You're right, Henry, because being pulled around by a sleigh by Alsatians is totally normal. That's conventional thinking, isn't it? They're totally hypocrites. Exactly. They're hypocrites. Because that's what everyone wants to do. No, it's a good...

Yeah, but I've got... Well, Ben, I've got to say, I've got to be honest. I don't think that, what you think. I think that song's quite cool, and I like it. But now that you've said that, I may reassess it. And it'll just sort of mar it slightly for you. I like Pink Floyd, and I just find that one line in the way that people came to it a bit annoying.

But also, you know, some teachers are bad. Yeah, some teachers are bad. But also, I think as a general rule to say, hey, teachers, leave those kids alone, that's not going to... For example, that isn't a coherent policy to do with education. It needs contextualising, doesn't it?

It needs contextualising. Of course, it was pre-off-con, wasn't it, that? Listen, you're talking to a guy who recently went to a planetarium to watch a planetarium show based on Dark Side of the Moon. Did you really? I did. I went to a planetarium and I projected trippy 3D images

onto the ceiling and played Dark Side of the Moon. Did they hologram in Pink Floyd? No. I think it was a very shit, early version of that kind of thing. And it was meant to make you totally spin out, guys. But it was quite an impressive. Yeah. This was in Germany. I was in Germany. And as we staggered out, people were like,

whoa, that was amazing. And I just felt quite tired. Do you like that song? I'm just trying to guess which one that is. Took a moment. I know which one you mean, though. Yeah, it's good. It's so teenage. Their music, it's so perfectly teenage. Yes.

Yeah, you kind of have to listen to it when you're 15 and then really like it. And then you can continue to be fond later on. If you were to listen to it, if you were to play it to an 80-year-old man who'd never heard it before, who'd just been on some... I suppose they thought of themselves as alternate thinkers, didn't they? Because they called themselves Pink Floyd.

Wasn't this a thing as a Floyd, is there? Except for... There was a guy called Keith Floyd, who was a TV chef in the 70s and 80s. Very good with a fish. Yeah. He did have quite a pink face a lot of time because he drank a lot. I don't know if that's...

And he was often a bit sunburned as well, wasn't he? Because he would broadcast from, you know, Porto. Yeah. It was from the good old days when TV chefs were completely pissed from the first second of the broadcast, they could barely stand up. They'd been just very transparently shipped out to somewhere

in the Mediterranean. They were in Sicily somewhere and they were just obviously rat-assed on holiday. But at some point, did have to record a fishy mashed up. Do you have this experience, which is that thinking back to my school days, you realise I think only in hindsight

that some of the teachers were really crap and probably barely holding it together as a human being. But Ben... Yeah, that definitely applies. But Ben, the fact that you were throwing hot handfuls of gravel at them, the second they walked in the room,

wouldn't have been helping. That's part of the picture. That's the bit you're missing out. I do realise that, but I think I also have a bit more empathy with them now. I think at the time I would have been... I think I probably did fairly scathing views of them. I think to walk out in front of a class

of people like me would be... I mean, 15-year-old loads. I can't imagine how terrifying and awful that must have been for... I still feel bad about supply teacher Mark. To this day, only three of us know where he was buried. We had a whole year

where the whole game was to try and drive our chooser who we had to register with every morning to distraction. You know, with 13 years old, that was... I mean, the whole class was unified. 30 kids unified against Mr... Yeah. Probably need to bleep that out of the name.

Who was this teacher and why did you go for him? What was his thing? Was he maths or geography? I can't remember. He was maths. I never actually had him for lessons. He was just our tutor. But his classroom had these very high ceilings and we'd do things like we'd build enormous pyramids.

People would get in early. So we had time to build an enormous pyramid of all of the chairs in the room on top of as many desks as we could in the room. Absolutely massive. That sounds horrible. Going up 20 foot into the air. Really dangerous structure.

And that would be the first thing that would greet him. In front that no one would admit that anything had happened. We'd even deny that we could see that anything was there. You know what's... I find terrifying and so awful about that. This guy, like everyone, would have had his own problems anyway in life. We all have to deal with.

Even if we don't have kids psychologically torturing us as soon as we get in the door at work. He's got a Nissan micro that's on its last legs. His mum's fallen over over the weekend. He's had to take for three weeks. Those Verukas aren't shifting. So the water polo team won't let him back. Yeah, we don't know any of that.

He's getting no replies from the letters he sends to Cindy Lauper every week. And he... Even just to know I don't want to have lunch. Just any... Would be something, just a reply. He is absolutely getting mail-bombed by Tupau though.

And he's never made contact with him, not even once. And he has to come in, but it's the unified front that's frightening, like all of you doing it together. But also, I meant... You can't start it either. I've thought about this. I don't think there was any inciting incident

where I don't think there was no vengeance. The motive was pure sadism on our part, I think. It's also the chaos of it. Because you can't fight an enemy who doesn't make sense. Because there's no logical response to a pyramid of chairs.

Because if you say deconstruct the pyramid, that's a mad thing to say. Why are you deconstructing a pyramid? None of it makes sense. I remember that being chaotic in front of teachers. I'm sorry for them though. But then some of them

seem to escape this fate somehow. Yes, that's so true. I think it was the ones that you knew that the ones that would react were the ones you were going to go for. So the ones that were going to get angry for some reason, you knew you wanted that somehow. Whereas the ones that were a bit cooler,

we're just going to laugh it off. I think we should change names. So in my case, there was lovely Dr. Beige. And Dr. Beige was a history teacher and we just all absolutely loved Dr. Beige. Real name Dr. Brown? Correct.

I've cracked a code. We all absolutely love Dr. Puce. But I think as a teacher it's very hard to calculate to get that right. Because you can't be too matey. No. The one who got it most right, I think, okay, again, nom de pod, we'll call him Mr. Hyundai.

Ah, Mr. Mitsubishi. So he was a math teacher and he was getting on a bit. But he definitely wasn't cool at all. And also he never got angry and we tried with him and we sort of painted

the picture that he sat on. We'd cover that with chalk dust. He'd have chalk on his arse at the end of every single lesson. Someone would always be playing jack-o-lanterns and his eyeballs. We'd muck about with him. But it was just, he didn't give a toss.

So when you say playing jack-o-lanterns with someone eyeballs, do you mean scooping out the eyeballs and replacing them with too many candles? Exactly right. There was no issue. But he was completely resilient. In any sense, he'd be talking about, he'd talk about some sort of history of calculus thing.

No one understood what he was talking about and he'd just do that until the bell went and he had some kind of special, like he was within his own sort of hardened carapace somehow. But he's quite a nice bloke as well. He was just separate. He was in another universe. But what is that quality? Is it about knowing yourself? Does that guy know who he is

and he's kind of cool in himself or he's kind of... Because what would happen to us? That's why I find fascinating. I think I would... I think I know what I would do if I had to teach a class. Well, you'd be dead by the end of the day. I'd be dead by the end of the day. And it would be the first case

of everyone in a school, all the pupils, all the teachers, all the staff, killing one person together. PCA, the governors. Ground staff, the priests. Ex-peoples coming back? Yeah.

On as alumni. In gym toilets. So how would you play it? Well, my worry is that... You'd be an art teacher probably, wouldn't you? I don't know. Is that right? Is that what you'd go for? Maybe English or art? What would it be?

I think you'd be safest in art. But art teachers are a whole different breed, right? Art is a different breed. That's why I think where you'd be safer. I think I'd be safest. But if I was teaching... Let's be frank, a real subject. I would...

We've all done stand-up. We all kind of know what it is. We've all lost control of a room. We've all lost control of a room. We've all been described at various phases of our careers as unbookable. We've all had a full bottle of Cronenberg 1664 launched at our heads.

We know how it feels to be handed out of a room. We know what it's like to be walking into a car park a little bit faster than you would normally, just because you genuinely feel a little bit worried about your safety. We've all had the phone call, where we've heard the words,

I'm sorry, I just can't in all good faith pay you for what you did last night. And we've all heard the dreaded words for any comedian from a friend or colleague after leaving stage, because that was really fun. Almost as devastating as, did you enjoy that? Or you should do comedy.

You should try writing your little skits. But we've all crossed that, some might say, sacred threshold between the stage and the rest of the world, which I personally think is actually, in a way, kind of staging itself. But the teacher has no green room.

The teacher has no wings. He or she has to come straight from the hall into the classroom. That's pretty hard, isn't it? Because I think a teacher should really have an offstage space, a kind of wings, where they can walk on music. What would you go for, Ben?

Music wise? I've got no joke. And then on an offstage mic, please welcome, it's your maths teacher for today, Benjamin Hartridge. And then you come and dress as an eagle and pick cring.

On a high wire. On a money high and down a high wire. Music I think the thing that I came to realise quite quickly is that the thing that governed when your class got a bollocking had nothing to do with the behaviour of your class.

It was entirely under the mood of the teacher who was giving out the bollocking. It was all personal stuff to do with whether Cindy Lauper had got in touch. Yeah. It's all there. You're right. At the time, I didn't think we realised that, did we? Well, I remember realising it once

because we just got bollocked. The whole class got severely bollocked and we had done nothing really. We were just a bit noisy or whatever, but it was normal. It was within the bounds of normal behaviour. Yeah, yeah. Mr. Bennett had missed Binde or something like that. Exactly. And we just got this massive bollocking

and we could all sort of just, we could feel ourselves going like, why? Like what? And then you realise, oh yeah, it's because it's a really bad day. Yeah, because Cindy Lauper has actually got back with a cease and desist letter. It's the worst possible outcome.

And T'Pau have moved in next door. And they put a letterbox in the adjoining wall to save time. They're posting things directly into his home. It's right next to that from their bureau directly into his toaster. Teachers.

Thank you, Luke. Thank you, teachers. For all that you do. Thank you, teachers, yeah, heroes. And we talked a little bit about bad teachers, but all of the teachers listening to this are good teachers. That's right, except for one of you.

Time for your emails. You must give thanks to the postmasters that came before. Good morning, postmaster. Anything for me? Just some old shit. When you send an email

this represents progress like a robot shooing a horse. Give me your horse. My beautiful horse. Georgie Mills, Dear Beans. In your recent episode, I was delighted to hear

mention of my hometown of Nottingham. Oh, yeah. However, that delight soon turned to horror. When you joke that the shopping centre in Nottingham is probably called the Robin Hood shopping centre. Good joke there, come on. Also, good name. Also, probably true.

I'm not upset simply because this isn't true. Brackets, it's called the Victoria Centre. By the way, we only said it was probably true. It's true. But more because you fell back on the easy Nottingham reference of Robin Hood. There are many things that England's Ney Button's best city is known for.

You could have talked about how it's the home of the... Friar Tuck. Made Marion. The Sheriff of Nottingham. Alan Rickman. Archery Contest. Little John. Battlements, people swinging on the chandeliers

wearing very, very tight green tints. Apples on heads. That's William Tell. You could have talked about how it's the home of the pharmacy boots. That is quite interesting. Hang on. Is he just saying they've got a boot?

They might have a big boot. They might have a big boot. Oh. Where you can get jabs, get a flu jab in there. It's such a crushing blow when you realize you've got to go upstairs. I'd rather just not treat these hemorrhoids. I'll let them just take over.

I'll let them take over. Did you know that the arboretum in Nottingham was the inspiration for Neverland in J.M. Barry's Peter Pan? Yeah, we all knew that. Yeah. We knew that. We assumed everyone knew that. That's why we went for Robin Hood.

Robin Hood is one of what Nottingham has to offer. Next time you mention Nottingham in the podcast, which I'm sure must be soon, all I ask is that you don't simply make a pun about Robin Hood and move on, but that you help spread awareness of the rich cultural tapestry that Nottingham offers. Fair enough.

I think it is unfair to make constant references to Robin Hood while talking about Nottingham. I think he's really hit the bull's eye with that comment. I'm going to put all my conversational arrows back in their quiver now. Robin Hood. What's an arboretum?

Like a zoo for trees. So it's some trees. I mean, all trees are in a zoo for trees, aren't they? But they might have exotic trees that you wouldn't normally get. Treekeepers. You can watch them feeding the trees if you go at the right time.

Some of those trees will be asleep. Is there really such a thing as a treekeeper? No. I know that Nottingham is famous for shoes. No, that's Northampton. Oh, yeah. Sorry.

What's he called again, the guy that emailed that one? George. Sorry, genuinely apologised for all Robin Hood stuff. And I owe you one. For example, if you ever need to cross a river, I'll carry you across it, maybe. Still making Robin Hood references. I don't remember that from Robin Hood.

Richard Hill, John. John. He tells you you're right. He carried a Daily Mail columnist. I think he fired an arrow into a tree on the other side into a tree zoo and then swung on a rope. Are you ready for an email that's entitled Wozniak Bollack Fest 2023 Headline Act?

Oh, my God. Oh. Bring it on. Bollocking Loaded. Dear Beans, it's at the scene Wednesday 29th of March. I open Spotify and press play on the 5th Wednesday

candor aberration broadcast. So that was our episode about how we don't put out an episode we don't work on the 5th Wednesday. Flash forward some hours. Am I about to get a bollocking for a non-episode? Carry on. Steady. Embraced. Flash forward some hours and a mix of concerted bouts of concentrated work

effort and internet scrolling interspersed with food and coffee that I remember I had a gig to attend that evening. A birthday present, in fact. I arrived at the venue, a solo performer with the subject matter of a family member traversing Europe in the midst of war. Mike Wozniak performing a solo stand-up in Brighton

on a 5th Wednesday. Come on. Mike, if I may do with the presentries, I appeal to you to uphold the bean treaty of non-working on the 5th Wednesday of the month. I believe this includes your non-bean activity. OK. I made it. I'm a scab. Sorry. You wouldn't find out about that, Ben and Henry.

Can I say, in Mike's defence, what he does cannot be considered work. He phones it in. You can't call it work. I mean, it'll feel like hard work. Hi. Hi. Hi, everyone. It's a good defence.

The tour continues, Mike. Tour's still going on in much the same vein and I'm going to use that Henry defence. That's quite good. So that's bollocking. That's a reflector. It's not work in the sense that it's... It's my passion. It's a passion and it's... Oh, it never feels like work.

Because the fact is, the great thing about what we all do is we're just big kids playing and having fun all the bloody time. Aren't we? That's definitely how Mike feels when he has to drive from Axe. Does the glass go for Ricky? Which I'll do next week.

He just imagines he's in a big Tonka car, doesn't he? Beep, beep. There we go. Tonka car. Beep, beep. Waving everyone on the bridges. Lovely tone. Two hours later. Beep, beep. Tonka car. Only seven hours to go.

Nick Emails, Dear Beans. I'm watching a British comedy series in which the lead character and his partner go to A&E after a sexual accident. They have to explain the situation to a bemused doctor. I really recognise his voice, but not having my phone to hand, I don't have the brain to figure it out.

To my wife's irritation, I insisted on replaying the doctor's line. The line was, the left index finger was put in the anus of your boyfriend. Over and over again. Until a terrible realisation dawned on me. No, it can't be. That's not Mike Kozniak from Three Beans Salad, is it?

I'm sorry to say that I don't know what any of you Beans look like except for your descriptions of each other. That's this well-built, bearded, handsome doctor on screen whose only lines were about an anal insertion and Mike was deeply unsettling and quite frankly ruined the whole TV show for me. It also ruined it for my wife

as I wouldn't shut up about it and she has no idea what Three Beans Salad is. Thank you. And thank you for calling it Handsome Doctor. The part when I auditioned as what many of the parts have done in my life, I don't have a name. This part was,

the audition piece was for Handsome Doctor and when I did the role in the credits at the end of the show it was simply Doctor. They had made that editorial change in post. Look guys, it's just that we don't want to get sued, it's just not worth it.

That was in, what was it called? It was called Scrotal Recall, although they changed the name. Oh, I remember that, yes. Love Sick, that was it. Yes. Ah, yes. Single Cena, little afternoon work and then sent away, never to return. And your line was the left index finger

was put into the anus of your boyfriend. Yeah, and the difficulty with a line like that is not to, you don't want to lean into it too hard. It's, you've got to believe the subtext really and throw the line away, I think is the key with that kind of piece of dialogue like that.

You know, it's your moment in the sun, sure, but you've just got to breathe, breathe the scene. What word do you stress? Because you've always got to stress one word, haven't you, as an actor? Index, always index. And if the word index doesn't appear in a line of dialogue,

I will find a way to crowbar it here. Yeah, yeah. Acting tip then. Because, you know, an untrained, untrained actors like me or Henry, we're not really actors, but you know, we'd probably stress the word anus. That would be your first instinct. And it's a rookie error

because the stress is implicitly there with anus. As soon as anus appears in a line of dialogue, that's all anyone's thinking about. Anus is its own stress. Yes. You know. It doesn't need stressing, it's already stressed, as you say. As soon as anus pops up in a conversation in dialogue,

it comes pre-stressed. Welcome to the Actors Studio with Mike Wozniak. Yeah, chapter three, anus. So what was the line again, Ben? What was the exact line? Can you read us? The anus, let's give it to Henry. So the left index finger was put in the anus of your boyfriend.

So I'm a very, you said I'm not an actor, Ben. I disagree with that. I'm a very natural actor. The left index finger was put in the... So yeah, it's about throwing away anus. Is it, Mike? Throw the anus away.

This is a teaching episode, Mike. Teach me how to say this line. So would you say I throw anus away? So think of an important anus in your life. It's very close to home, this one. Is that all right? Yeah. Don't tell me about it.

Okay. Pick a random word that you're going to put the stress on. One of the words in the sentence. The more random, the better. Because then you give yourself some Pacino vibes. Everyone will think you're doing really good acting if there's a really weird stress somewhere in the middle. And then take a deep breath

and go. The left index finger was put in the anus of your boyfriend. Oh. Oh, wow. Oh, lovely. That was really lovely stuff. Okay, Mike, my turn.

Okay. Here we go. The left index finger was put in the anus of your boyfriend. Oh, lovely. Lovely. Very nice. Very nice stuff. Very early Alec Guinness, I thought.

To me, that felt like no offense for that. For me, that felt like you were slightly trying to draw focus and steal the scene. Because that feels like that's the continuing adventures of Dr. Anus. It felt like that was your show. I take that as a compliment, Andrew. Because I'm more New York school.

It's truth. And then let's finish off then. Mike, could you give us the correct reading of the line? Just give us the right answer, please. Now to the question. The left index finger was put in the anus of your boyfriend. It's amazing when you hear it, Henry.

You're like, oh, that's how you meant to do it. Great acting isn't acting. That was just real. That's how it would, yeah. That's how any one listening would say it. Yeah. But what's difficult is, that's why people think acting is easy, actually, isn't it? You have to unthink acting.

And it's so hard to unthink. If I'm able to unthink very easily, there's usually absolutely nothing going on in there at all. It's time to pay the ferryman. Patreon. Patreon. Patreon.

Patreon.com 4 slash 3 bean salad. As ever, a big thank you to all of our patrons, patreons. Thank you. Go to patreon.com

4 slash 3 bean salad to check that out. You can get rid of those ads, those pesky ads. You can get a bonus episode every month where I was thinking about this. We did an episode earlier this month where it was meant to be about TV crime shows. But the final episode actually contained

nothing about that topic whatsoever. Is that true? Yes. I can't remember what we hooked about instead. Did that happen with Dentist as well in the end? There's a bit of Dentist chat, but it's mainly about Lobsters. But I think if you are actually interested in those topics, what will often happen is that

our actual chat about that stuff will end up in the bonus episode. Or just Google it, you know what I mean? There's other ways. Certainly, if you're doing academic research or something. We probably wouldn't use that as a primary source. Not as a primary source. Go down to the British Library if you're London based.

I think it's quite easy to get in there now. That's quite a London centric for you, Henry. You could also go to the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth. That's right. And I think there's a book or two knocking around a car park behind a Wix in Exeter. There's a red phone box that someone's left

some Grishams in. And I think a couple of Delia Smiths. A couple of David Baldatris. Yeah, I think you're supposed to swap in, swap out. But yeah, it's up to you. And there are various tiers to join out. If you join out, the Sean Bean tier. You get a little shout out in the Sean Bean lounge

where Mike was last night. You bet I was. Because of course it was the... It was the Root Veg Disco, wasn't it? It was the Root Veg Disco. It's an event that's very special to me. And here's my report. It was the Root Veg Disco last night

at the Sean Bean lounge where a tuborous Root Boogaloo was as welcome to shake it as a rhizomic disco finger. Brian Mock ensured the pH of the dance floor remained steadily at 6 to 6.5 by rototilling into it the well-rotted manure of Matt Verrill, Rosteen's and Craig Williamson,

and boiling off the elemental sulphur of Lizzie Shaw for use in fine adjustments. Tunes came from a mix of Graeme, Dirty Onion's Denny on Decks, and live music from Mrs. Jodie Pocock and the Root Maggots, featuring Deleth Jones on Vibes, Isabel Trollio on Tuba, and Matt on Sweet Potato Flute.

First and last on the dance floor was Amy Simpson with a high-stabbing a complex polysaccharide solo skip-jive. Charlotte Clarke, Jason Ernest, Vic and Madeleine Dallaston teamed up for a four-way turnip-based vegan turkey trot. While Charlie Berry, Radroll, and Matthew Frey left onlookers Slack

jawed their ginger-based knobbly pole dance. Abigail Walsh's Celeriac Lambada repeatedly intruded upon a hog-potato conga, separating Nick Andrews from the line whose attempt to rejoin detached Jim O'Brien, whose exit distracted Emma Smith, resulting in contralateral conga-kick D-alignment, which Sandy Perry attempted to correct,

which Alasda Lindsay mistook for an act of trouser graffiti in progress, leading him to attempt a citizen's arrest armed with nothing but an unglazed parsnip. Elsewhere, Jabbo Ab's cat-daddy the Cornish Yan, and Duncan Scott to Hanod with a Jerusalem artichoke, while Liam Meyscoff, Michelle, and Steph Han treated the crowd to a liturgical dance

with fennel from the waist up and, bravely, horseradish from the waist down. The three-way garlic-crumping from Rhys, Peter Templeman, and Mr. Jeff was too strong a flavour for most dance palettes, but only lasted seconds when it was brought down by Ben Fox's crowd-harvest. Davina Bartels, Chris Cameron, Chris,

and Carl Saunders caused a stir ahead of the event, with talk of their Kohlrabi Germanations apatiado, but at the time of writing remained subsurface and a rumoured to be waterlogged. Special Effort Award went to Ed Wilkins and Mark Linton for their carrot-themed Batadecola flamenco robes, which was then withdrawn by Sean Bean,

who felt the robes to be dangerously provocative. Award for fewest bruises sustained in the beetroot Charleston went to Kerry Sharman. Award for bruise that most resembles a sovereign nation, Hannah Lawrence, Rackets Mauritania. Thanks all. So that's the Three Bean Standard podcast for this week.

And to play us out, a version of our theme tune sent in by Graham. Thank you, Graham. Graham writes, Hello Beans, I'm loving the pod, as the kids would say. As a man with a copy of GarageBand on his laptop and too much time on his hands, I thought I should ever crack at your theme tune.

I've taken the liberty of interpreting it in the style of a James Bond soundtrack. Ooh. That should please the provincial dad segment of the listenership, if nothing else. So. It certainly does. Well judged. Picture of the scene. A white lotus asprey emerges from azure waves onto a deserted tropical beach.

At the wheel of the submersible sports car sits Suave secret agent, Mike Wozniak. I keep talking. Rocking a safari jacket and beige slacks, as only he can. This is what I'm wearing right now. This is amazing. In the passenger seat lounges the glamorous and enigmatic Henry Backer.

Bit of eye candy. Yeah. Henry turns to Wozniak and says breathily, Mike, thank you for freeing me from Dr. Spurges Clutches. That fiend wanted to use my elemental force of my lukewarm chat to power his undersea base, but I've sworn to use my middling banter only for good. Well, you can't sit on your own arse,

Crips Wozniak distractedly as he negotiates the lotus around an abandoned deck chair. The tranquility of the beach is suddenly shattered as a gigantic mechanical crab rises up from the sand to intercept the fleeing pair. It's one of Dr. Spurges' impractical sea themed vehicles, Christ Henry. And look who's at the controls.

It's Spurges' top henchman and bridge partner, the evil Bonjimin. Lovely. Still alive. Wozniak narrates his eyes and mutters to himself. It's got us in a pincer movement. Something about crab sticks. I must start writing these bonmots down in advance. He guns the engine of the lotus

and the chase is on. All the best, Graeme from the New Forest. Graeme, that was magnificent. Lovely stuff. So, we'll play that out. Thank you. This is very exciting. Yes, and thank you, listener, for lending us your ears. And we'll see you next time. Thank you, thank you.

Thank you very much. Goodbye. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.