Dragons’ Den – 22.10.07



Bannatyne is now so firmly embedded in my head as his alter ego – an 80s club singer – that I half expect him to start singing ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You’ by Glen Madeiros at any given moment, every time I sit down to watch the Den. Or maybe a burst of ‘Girl I’m Gonna Miss You’ by Milli Vanilli. Or anything Tony Hadley sang. As it’s an hour long show I reckon they could shoe-horn in three minutes at half time for a quick medley from Duncan. It would also act as a nice way of balancing their hardass natures onscreen, giving us a glimpse into the Dragon’s offscreen hopes and fears and stop them from looking like the smug, Thatcherite arseholes they so clearly are.

Someone mentioned that DD is stale by now in the comments section of last week’s article. I beg to differ. I don’t think this show willl ever go stale. There are always rubbish inventors in the world, just as there are always amazing new inventions round the corner. There’s no shortage of idiots chasing their pointless dreams who we can laugh at from our positions of inertia without realising these folly-bound individuals are a step above us because at least they’re trying. They’re trying aren’t they? Unlike you, sat on your arse, content to do the same job, day-upon-day so long as you get home in time for the ‘Enders. You lazy shit.

Each episode is essentially a sketch show, five or six episodes of equally balanced content wherein two of four pitchers will n’doubt get a deal, whilst the others will be laughed at. X Factor for boffins, really, with the judges arguably far more qualified to cast aspersions as their pedigree is indisputable – they’re fucking wealthy, like it or not.

The opening pitch last night was for an amiable piece of tat called the Yoodoodoll. Despite having a Hoxton haircut and a vest top showing off a large tattoo, the Dragons warmed to the presenter of the dolls, which shows them to be hypocrites in light of the fact Pink Quiff Man was made to exit stage right last week. Obviously as long as your outlandish look is 21st century, then body modification and crazy cuts are ok with the Dragons. The dolls were pretty much useless – a briefly amusing stocking filler – but Caan and Meaden went into the bidding, with Meaden inexplicably winning despite asking for 45% of the company to Caan’s 40%. Sisters doing it for themselves, perhaps, but is Meaden really a sister? I suspect she’s more asexual alien life-form than human, but I’ll resist the temptation to investigate further.

Some golf gizmo was covered quickly, looked far too complex for my tender brain, so I made a cup of tea during that bit. An older lady then took centre stage trying to flog some learning aids. Y’know – for kids. They were just bits of plastic in the shape of numbers, so after Bannatyne kicked her into the dust with a salient point about copyrighting digits, she trotted back down the stairs, tail between her legs after over-enthusiastically proclaiming her levels of enthusiasm.

At some point a bizarre episode clicked in wherein a hispanic lady tried to sell an ironing board that came in a cabinet. it was kind of a cabinet / ironing board hybrid. Imagine a small, ugly cabinet that had been raped by an ironing board. Then imagine its horrible offspring. It looked sort of like that – and promptly got laughed off the floor.

The ‘infant training mechanism’ was an interesting one. Essentially it was a ping pong ball with a cartoon face on it, designed to stay face-up while being peed on, so that kids enjoy getting off their potties and using a grown up lav. Girls could also use it, the pitcher opined, as the sitting back motion required when aiming would prevent them leaning forward and weeing all over the carpet. Unpleasant images, unwlecome and vivid, couldn’t help but force themselves into the viewer’s mind’s eye. Yes – wazzing is all well and good, me and the missus declared – but what if you get the runs and get all poo all over it. Even if you pop out a floater, imagine it sailing on toilet water with that weird little blue face peeking out from behind it. When does this silly little ball get washed? Does it live its entire life in a piss / shit / flush cycle? I couldn’t see it working.

The pitcher gained kudos, lord only knows why, for his presentation, despite the fact that all Dragons rolled their eyes on his opening gambit: ‘May I ask how many of you are currently toilet-training?’. He must have picked up somewhere along the way, as Caan, eager to seem like he’s one of the crew already, pitched in, but it all came to nowt. Caan should thank his lucky stars.

Finally, and inevitably, a fresh-faced middle class couple managed to get some cash when their terminally dull poker-email system got Theo’s go-ahead, after some overlong wrangling. A duller and more annoying product you won’t see all year. Stick ‘online capabilities’ into a sentence when pitching and the confused Dragons get all excited, for some reason. This was glamourised spam, and these two are now £200,000 more likely to be filling gamblers inboxes with rubbish thanks to the Dragons.

Next week, just imagine Bannatyne in a jump suit, banging out his club-style version of the Ballet’s ‘Gold’. It works, for some reason. Always believe in your soul.

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50 Responses to “Dragons’ Den – 22.10.07”

  1. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I reckon that wally Theo only gave those last two money because he wanted a go on the brunette. Either that, or he was unable to come up with one of his shit comparisons in time (“You’re about as useless as a toenail in a donkey factory.”), so handed over the money in a panic instead.

    You’re right about that woman’s looks. I hadn’t thought of that, but yes. How come she’s acceptable but the big guy with the pink quiff ain’t? These dragons need a good slaying, the hypocritical, mythical, rich, ugly, dirty bastards.

  2. Swineshead Says:

    He definitely fancied the brunette droid. Didn’t you think her monotone tones were a bit freaky? Well I bloody did.

    If you were to kill off the Dragons, one by one like you’re Charles Bronson in Death Wish, which one would you whack first. And who would be second, third, fourth and fifth?

    And what methods would you use for these kills?

    And what bon mot would you come out with after each slaying?

  3. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:


    1 – Theo.
    Method – Suffocation using an elephant’s ball-bag.
    Bon mot – “You’re about as useful as a fish in knickers sucking off a horseradish.”

    2 – Jones.
    Method – Trick him into drinking pub line-cleaner.
    Bon mot – “Try being wealthy and attractive to women without a windpipe, you lanky sack of shit.”

    3 – Meadon.
    Method – Kick in the nuts.
    Bon mot – “Try investing £50,000 now you’ve got your nuts hanging out of your mouth. You can’t can you? Eh?”

    4 – Bananatyne.
    Method – Sausage and broccolli.
    Bon mot – “Bon appetit! Try getting a 25% equity share in my new online confectionary company now you’ve shit most of your organs into the toilet. On guard!”

    5 – The new one.
    Method – Shove the old one up his arse.
    Bon mot – “Touche! Not so easy driving a speedboat now you’ve got a four-foot Australian entrepreneur shoved up you arse, is it? Eh? Can I have £50?”

  4. Swineshead Says:

    Good work.

    Apparently Duncan’s releasing a single with Duncan from Blue and Gazza and Lindisfarne.

    They will call themselves Duncan & Duncan & Gazza & Lindisfarne and the song will be

    Banana Tyne Is All Mine, All Mine.

  5. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I’d be tempted to buy that. Bananatyne looks, as you’ve pointed out, like he could pull off a good tune from the 80s. Maybe he should do a duet with The Meadon? He looks like he’s from the 80s, and she looks like she’s in her 80s. It would be an 80s love-in.

  6. Swineshead Says:

    She’s in her 580s, as she is an alien being who is looking to impregnate humans with her demon seed.

  7. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Really? Are … ahem … her udders involved in this plan at all? I only ask out of curiosity, I’m not fascinated by the subject or anything.

  8. Swineshead Says:

    Yes. Yes, they are.

  9. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Oh dear God …

  10. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I’d pay at least £95 to see her make a guest appearance on Last of the Summer Wine. Clegg’s looking increasingly frail, and I reckon Meadon’s towering dabbers would finish the bugger off for good.

  11. piqued Says:


    Strangled with his own tie

    “you like that huh? How about investing in this”

    *waves cock in his purple dying face*


    Face surgically removed and exposed flesh smeared with mrsa

    “whose a pretty boy then eh eh?”

    *slaps removed face*


    Grenade in the bottom

    “Oooh, sew a button on that”

    *tinkles on bowels*


    Plied with booze and made to drive down Cheddar Gorge with no brakes

    “Hey, don’t forget you can save money with confused dot com”

    *flings turd at out of control vehicle*

    James Caan

    Beaten to death by his naked acid-psychotic namesake

    “You pay Beans and the only Freebie is pain, yeah”

    *eats Tesco Kiev*

  12. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I watched Freebie and the Bean recently. Fuckin’ ‘ell but it ain’t ‘alf racist.

    I still reckon The Meadon should have her balls knocked out through her false teeth, mind. I imagine she has enormous balls – like a sheep’s.

    Look, here – http://www.sheepandgoat.com/news/images/tarheel.JPG

    See? Imagine them, but swinging in between The Meadon’s legs. You wouldn’t, would you?

  13. piqued Says:

    Fuckin’ ‘Ell but it Ain’t ‘Alf Racist Mum

    Didn’t Ronnie Hazelhurst do the music for that?

  14. Who Says:

    Stop saying things like that, just stop it

    Last of the Summer Wine is as old as me. We share a birth year. If they stop making it, I will die too. It is the way it has to be.

    That bloke in the cafe, Wally Batty and Compo have all passed over and it’s only a matter of time before the reaper takes Clegg and calls for me on the way through. I really can’t talk about it anymore, it’s too upsetting.

  15. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Who – Compo and Wally barely scratch the surface, as you know.


    Sid from the cafe
    Milburn from the cafe
    Wesley the mechanic
    Whatever Thora Hird’s character was called
    Eli (the blind one)

    May they rest in peace (preferably sliding down a hill in a tin-bath).

  16. piqued Says:

    You forgot to mention Ronnie Hazelhurst, the composer of the deade and weake

  17. Who Says:

    There are too many to remember. Sometimes the grief is just overwhelming, you know? It helps to tell you about it, NC. It’s so nice to find someone who understands.

    What criteria are they ranked by; date of passing, pecking order in the show, or just how dearly their memory is held to your heart?

  18. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    He wasn’t a character though, was he? I was focusing on the many fine actors and actresses who’ve laid down their lives in service to their country in a tin-bath flying down a hill. I can’t see Hazelhurst trying to get airborne in the seat of a modified tandem as custard (for ballast) flies out of his wellies.

    Unless I’ve been misinformed, o’course.

  19. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Who – I understand, son, I really do. A light went out in my world when I learned of the tragic death of Thora Hird. To lose one’s life careening through an upstairs window astride an out-of-control stair-lift (see: Gremlins) is no way for anyone to go. And she was only seven hundred years old – so young, so young (imagine the udders!).

    There was no particular order to my list. Just a roll-call of golden memories as they entered, then rapidly left, my mind. Wesley, take your shoes off.

  20. piqued Says:

    He exemplified the characters NC by the doom laden choons what he laid down. He was Last of The Summer Wine yeah, he fucking lived and died it.

  21. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I beg to differ Piqued. Ronnie never got his hands dirty, not like Compo. Was Ronnie ever persuaded to wade through a lake in an upturned bath in only his smalls, wooly hat, braces, and wellington boots? I don’t think so. Did Ronnie ever rise to the challenge of simultaneously drinking tea with four other women after making a comment about what lazy, fat bastards men are in general? Did he hell-as-like! He was too busy sitting in his fancy London appartment composing music, not where he should have been – sliding down a hill etc. etc. etc.

  22. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    By the way, there’s a great discussion about Eddie Large’s tits just about to kick off over at The Urban Woo …


  23. Who Says:

    What about the theme to Don’t Wait Up?

    Don’t think it was one of Hazlehurst’s and it bloody well should have been. He was robbed – outrageous.

    Sorry, still dabbing damp hanky to grief stricken eyes – just remembering the lush orchestration and jaunty horn section that heralded many a favourite programme. Early bath, clean nightie, crumpets and Goodbye Mr Kent with Richard Briers, how do you like that?

  24. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Don’t Wait Up, eh? A classic slice of early Havers gold-dust. I haven’t the foggiest who wrote the theme-tune … was it John Williams?

    It’s best to think of something else when you’re grieving, Who. My father died a few years ago, and I got through the ordeal by concentrating on an Anne Widdicombe erotic fantasy I’ve been working on for a few years now.

  25. piqued Says:

    ‘Early bath, clean nightie, crumpets’

    Pard..? I… well….


    *bursts into tears*

  26. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I like a nice bit of crumpet.

    Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh? Eh?

    Lads? Eh? Yeah lads? LADS?

  27. Who Says:

    Or muffins sometimes, wasn’t always crumpets.

  28. piqued Says:


  29. jasonspaced Says:

    Back on topic –

    I thought Theo invested in that on-line gambling ruse because his missus was addicted to on-line bingo. It’s the Dragon’s equivalent of me picking up a Creme Egg on the way home.

    Me: “Here you are love, I got you a Creme Egg.”

    Theo: “Here you are love, I just invested £200k in a company so that you can get on-line Bingo alerts.”

    I also couldn’t stop imagining what would happen to the smiley face wee ball if you pooed on it. Why were there four in a pack? Would they flush, or do you have to pluck them out first with a rubber gloved hand? Plenty of hygiene issues going on with that product.

    The thing that really bugged me about that pitch was it really showed up how inconsistent those Dragons are. They’re always banging on about knowing your figures, and establishing your market, and he’d done everything they could have wanted and more, but they chose not to invest because the product wasn’t sexy. And the man nearly started blubbing when Bananatyne (I like that) asked him why he was obsessed with kid’s toilet training (I thought intimating that he was a fucking weirdo with bog based issues from his youth) but the pitcher replied by saying he’d had a deprived background, which confused me no end. Was he saying he came from a deprived background where he hadn’t been toilet trained so he’d had to wear nappies until he was 14? Didn’t get that…

    Anyway, another great hour of telly, though Evan Dando’s eyes are shot to fuck at the moment. One of them is pointing at the ceiling, the other is thousand yard staring. I think he needs some ophthalmic assistance.

  30. Swineshead Says:

    He’s always been bog eyed, that fella. He’s a lovely chap. At least he seems to be. You never can tell – after all, Meaden looks vaguely human when in fact she’s a betentacled monster from some hideous lagoon who wants to impregnate my innards.

  31. Kakjunkie Says:

    I like him too but I wish he’d stop stating the obvious after every pitch!

  32. Swineshead Says:

    Be fair – that is his job.

  33. Kakjunkie Says:

    True, true. I love his tactful, charming way he has to do post mortems.

  34. Swineshead Says:

    ACTUAL post mortems?

  35. Kakjunkie Says:

    yeah, he’s good at consoling yuppies whose “get rich quick” dream has just died! hee hee hee

  36. sarah lu Says:

    hello there

    I do believe in aliens and I also believe in cyborgs… and I think that Deborah is a cyborg. So you need not worry about the human/alien hybrid foetuses…

    I read your write up and I love it! So much emotion and imaginative craziness! Are you a failed inventor? Would you smile if you got a tatty doll for your stocking this year?


  37. Swineshead Says:

    Thankyou Sarah

    The thing is, Meaden may have robotic sperms. This thought will keep me awake at night.

    I am pondering going on Dragons’ Den with my ‘E-meal’ facility – a means of electronically ingesting food via a USB navel orifice. Few issues with it to iron out first but then I’m sure I’ll get Meaden on board by dressing as you and saying exactly what you said to clinch that deal.

    Hope business is going well, maybe you could do Pink Quiff man a favour and put in a word with Ol’ Debs?

  38. piqued Says:

    Hi Sarah

    I know which doll in stockings I’d like for Christmas sugar tits

    Wuv oo


  39. Swineshead Says:

    Nice one Piqued – sexual harrassment is GR8!!!


  40. piqued Says:

    That wasn’t harassment SH, birds like to be talked to like that, they fucking love it

    Last bit of advice my old man gave me when he finished off that 5 stretch for aggravated burglary

  41. Swineshead Says:

    Your father’s a very respectable (bearded) man, YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THIS

  42. piqued Says:

    That’s only because he paid you the amount you asked for you little tease

  43. sarah lu Says:

    thats a bit crude piqued! 😉 but i’ll take it as a compliment as not to get into a sordid horrible banter!

    so moving along swiftly… anyway how is everyone?

    bought a youdoodoll yet? hehehhee…. xx

  44. Swineshead Says:

    I haven’t bought one yet as it’s not payday. But, believe me, when payday comes my cupboards will be stuffed with PinkQuiff beef jerky, my unborn child’s cot will overflow with youdoo dolls and you won’t be able to plant a log in my bog for those blue toilet balls with faces on.

  45. Clarry Says:

    That little piece made my morning….

    Never laughed so hard at the image of Piqued waving his cock in Theo’s purple, dying face!

    *wipes away tears*

  46. bob Says:

    i think it is

  47. bob Says:

    IT IS SSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO RUBBISH a monkey could of thought of it!!!!!

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