The Nod Preventing Anti-Doze Device. 

I’m back! Despite the flattering rumours that I’d been away to collect my Nobel prize for exemplary contributions to the field of “general savvy”, they were of course untrue.

I was in fact in a sleep clinic as I’ve been suffering from something called night-terrors.  They’re not too dissimilar from nightmares, only they’re slightly more extreme. In the way that an evening with Leatherface is slightly more extreme than an evening with Nicholas Parsons.

In fact, it’s gotten to the point where I can’t nod off on public transport for fear of sweating through the seat and screaming “no no Koko!” as I fight off imaginary clowns armed with deceptively sharp balloons. 

But I’ve come up with a solution; the Nod Preventing Anti-Doze Device. 

It’s basically a uni-spiked collar that sits under your chin, so that at the slightest slide of your head towards the nap position it will administer a jolting jab and startle you back to the land of the living. 

Word to the wise though, please avoid wearing the device in any situations requiring vigorous nodding (i.e management meetings, at hospitals when asked if you’d like to turn off a loved ones support), because it could cause some minor stabbing damage.

But I’d rather not talk about that.


Prosthetic T-Rex Limb Lengthener

According to recent scientific research, the main reason that T-Rex was the angriest of all the dinosaurs was because of frustrations brought about by insufficient arm length. 

With only a couple of chip-fork sized appendages at their disposal, simple everyday tasks were rendered near-impossible. 

They couldn’t scratch their heads, do up their flies, pump super-soakers, hold an umbrella above their head and mime along to Singin’ in the Rain, tilt their hats to jaunty angles, do press-ups, or even bust out some YMCA dance moves. 

‘But isn’t it a bit late to be coming up with an invention to take T-Rex frustrations’ I hear you ask.  Well to that I say no. No, along with two more words. Jurassic. Park.

Since Jurassic Park opened there have been multiple deaths at the jaws of this pissed-off predator. So I’ve come up with something that will mellow-out this lame-limbed tooth warehouse by giving him some improved arm-articulation.

Introducing the Prosthetic T-Rex Limb Lengthener:

Just two bits of plastic hanging off this enraged reptile will give him the freedom of movement to do the things that formerly frustrated it, and leave him with a non-threatening toothy grin on his face, making Jurassic Park a little less lethal in the process.

The Heel-Adjacent Mouse Deflector

The trouble with having squeaky shoes is that they invariably attract the amorous attentions of mice, who end up following your loafers around in hope of a quick naughty nibble.

Indeed my own dear father had such problems with squeaking hobnails that he was quickly dubbed ‘The Pied Piper of Hamilton Motor Village and Caravan Park’.  And to make matters worse, all the children used to throw cheese at him and shout “mouse f***er”.  Until mother stopped us and told us we should respect our father.

But since purchasing a pair of squeaky rubber-soled foot-sheaths of my own I feel his pain, and it’s time to do something about it. 

So I invented this; the Heel-Adjacent Mouse Deflector: 

It’s basically a taxidermised cat built-in to the rear of ones footwear. Any approaching mouse will be immediately deterred by the sight of a roaring feline and be forced to seek a squeak elsewhere.

On the downside, it does attract dogs.  Which is a much bigger problem.

The Snail-Friendly Bridge Boot

For readers who are enjoying this blog today from the comfort of a bone-dry sofa, looking out upon the mildew-spawning sog-fest that is merry ol’ England, then this invention may not be for you. 

No, this invention is for those rain-hardy Brits who stick two fingers up at Johnny Weathercock and go outside in conditions that would make a dolphin consider donning an attractive cagool. 

There’s nothing worse than taking a weather-defiant walk, only to find that each step is met with a mollusc-mashing crunch. 

Yes, aside from the idiots of Albion, the only creature to venture outside in this weather is the snail.  And as sturdy as those curly shells are, they’re certainly no match for a size 9 moon-boot.

But from now on, molluscs and men can share the pavements in peace, with this:

The Snail-Friendly Bridge Boot. 

These snail-saving shoes act as a constantly moving bridge for the wearer to cross, whilst at the same time creating a sub-foot tunnel for said snails to pass through in peace, thus keeping crushing to a minimum.

Woodland Critter Cleaning Deterrent

I’d like to tell you about a famous ancestor of mine who became a celebrity largely thanks to her eyebrow-raising lifestyle choices.  

Her name? 

Snow White Crumpet.

A legend in her day, being the only average-sized woman living on a midget commune in the woods before running off with royalty following several assassination attempts.

But that’s not what I want to talk about.  

‘Snow’ had other strings to her bow and she wasn’t afraid of a good pluck.  As is common in the family Crumpet, she was also an inventor and all-round clever sausage when it came to solutions.

One problem she regularly faced that was ripe for solutioning came when she was cleaning. 

As soon as she cracked open the bucket and mop it was like a siren call to all manner of woodland critters who would flood into the house offering their services.  

However, far from being helpful, this do-good gang of over-eager Beavers, Badgers and Birds would end up leaving trails of fur and faecal matter in their wake, increasing the amount of housework to be done three-fold. 

It goes without saying that Snow White was one fierce bitch by the end of this daily fracas.  

At first she would whistle whilst she worked to try and deter the animals from entering with her high pitched power-notes.  Although this failed when they all joined in with the tune.

So then she thought; what’s the one thing that scares woodland creatures?  What’s the one thing that can get wid of those wascally woodland wabbits and such?

Elmer Fudd.

Knowing this, “Snow” constructed a pinafore in the shape of Mr Fudd and wore it whenever she went on one of her domestic hygiene rampages: 


Any animal trespassing on the property would be immediately greeted with the menacing visage of the murderous Elmer, ready to pop a shotgun-sized cap in their collective asses.

So that put a stop to that.

Doddery Biddy Spring Packed Stabiliser

As was pointed out in the comments on my ‘People Plow‘ invention, in which I detailed the chaotic journey of a rolling pensioner as they were pushed down a motorway embankment next to an international airport, the stability of old people can be the cause of a great many problems.

As those leathery old wrinkle-factories reach over-maturity, and regular vertiginous fails suddenly become referred to as ‘a fall’, our health system faces increasing pressure as they struggle to keep pace with the rate of imbalanced old biddies playing human dominoes. 

But Stanley, I hear you ask, can’t you invent something that’ll stop the blue-rinse brigade dropping harder than one of Doctor Dre’s phat bass beats?

Well the answer is yes.  Yes I can.  And yes I did. 

And here is is; the Doddery Biddy Spring Packed Stabiliser:

It’s basically a foam head protector, featuring state-of-the-art eye holes and air holes, and surrounded by springy springs. 

Whenever one of our musty slow-mo-moving elders takes a tumble, they’ll immediately be sprung back to their upright self without breaking so much as a sweat.

Word to the wise though.  This invention should really only be used on pensioners who are able to balance themselves once they’ve been sprung upright.  Otherwise they’ll simply get into a cycle of falling and bouncing, which is unstoppable even long after they’ve popped their clogs.

The Thumb Nail


No other three-letter combos strike fear into the heart of man like these ones do.  (Except maybe for P.M.T.).

Not only does DIY make for a tedious exercise, but it goes against millennia of evolution whereby man has strived to get anyone but himself to ‘do it’, whatever ‘it’ may be.

Personally I loathe assembling anything that doesn’t involve Lego, or clues that build a picture of what the hell I did after that sixth drink last night.

Even when constructing prototypes of my inventions I leave most of the donkey work to my cak-handed lab assistant Takeshi.  

He’s pushing 90 and most of him has been transplanted from low-end organ donors with substance issues, but he soldiers on and he does a reasonable job despite my frequent reprimands in Braille.

However, the one thing my bat-blind assistant does struggle with is hammering.  

More often than not he’ll miss the nail completely and flatten whatever appendage is sticking out in the vicinity of his swing action.  

Usually his thumb.  

Well, I say ‘thumb’…  It’s really more of a meat pancake now.

But this got me thinking.  If he’s hitting his thumb so often, there must be something about it that attracts the hammering action. 

So, in order to protect what’s left of his hands from further injury, I invented this; the Thumb Nail:

Word to the wise though.  Do ensure that there are no immature thumb-suckers passing by before letting your partially-sighted Japanese lab assistant loose on it, because it will end in a lengthy court case.  

But I’d rather not talk about that.