Ask Isambard Kingdom Brunel a bastard question

What ho. Bastard engineering work has dried up lately and I find myself with a lot of bastard time on my bastard hands. So, with the help of my bastard Stovepipe (Hat) of Knowledge, I plan to put my-bastard-self to good use once more. Ask me a bastard question, I'll tip my Stovepipe and Bob's your bastard uncle, a nugget of genuine wisdom and truth will fall forth. Who's bastard first?


I wish to address you to hold forth forthcoming and fontaeneously 'pon the subject of Child Discipline. Every honest Christian gentleman of good breeding knows as surely as he knows the 7 Commandments (of Our Lord God Almighty And Most Terrible And Punishing For Sins Of The Flesh, Such As Ejaculating Onto A Caccus) the favourite saying of our erstwhile Lord of Affairs and Stately Cumbershanks, Sir Peter Crumblehair (Royal Knight Secretary Lord Horse To The Catcher Of The Privy Oubli�re Council Trouser): "A child not beaten to within an inch of its very life is an offence in the eyes of the Lord God Almighty he who created That Great Nation England and Her Royal Highness Queen Pomp-vuss Victoria H�nsch�nheimvenn�cht�sval�nSchlo�v�s III's glorious and most venerable Empire of Britain and the outlying lands of Compromos, Scotland, and Progron 5". However I am afeared in mine eyes that perhaps it is possible to administer a beating that goes above and beyond what one expects to glean from aforementioned beating. If I may take just a moment of your most honourable time to perentulate what a typical aforementioned beating applied by a generous God Fearing philanthropist such as myself may possibly entail:

1. Take stout cane of matured oakwood
2. Soak in quinine
3. Suck quinine from cane
4. Gag child
5. Beat child's face until gag comes off
6. Beat gag as it lays on floor
7. Beat child's eyes
8. Beat inside of child's knees, with occasional random beats across the back
9. Punch the air with your fist, and go 'Yes!'
10. Child will have looked around; beat child's face, hands, face, legs
11. Beat buttocks
12. Flay skin from buttocks using beating
13. Beat blood that emerges until it is gone; muscle will be revealed
14. Beat muscle
15. Buttock-plate is revealed; beat buttock-plate until it cracks
16. Fluid will seep out; beat fluid
17. Beat child's chest until it splits
18. Beat heart until it bursts
19. Eat remains of heart

So in summarisation - in your esteemed opinion, how much is too much?

Your honourable honoured lowly noble servant,

Sir Guinea Eggmouth Pipistrelle Paperswanston-voc,
Battersea Orphan And Urchin's Home For Orphans And Urchins,

Sir Guinea Eggmouth,

Firstly, may I heartily congratulate you, sir, on your plain and upstanding morality. You truly are a pillar of decent society. To beat a child is the only and surest way to instil strength of character and encourage a disciplined mind. We would, I am sure, be among those who would say that there is a cruel, primitive background to society, a background of brutality and callousness, of bestiality and heavy drinking and much wretchedness and degradation. This is certainly true of the ale houses of Fleet Street (one cannot help but smile when recalling Pepys trying to gain entry to the Cock Tavern! Women are not admitted to regale at the Cock Tavern; he had to go somewhere else with his Mrs Pierce and Mrs Knipp). Ahem! Mark me when I say that this was not witnessed by mine own eyes, keen as I am to avoid such dens of iniquity (apart from Thursday evenings, when my name be Isobel Kantabria and I allure all with my golden mane). But back to your question, sir! I would advise that the stages of discipline should be altered according to the status of the child. If that child be in your employ, as kitchen boy or ass dweller, I would recommend that you proceed only to stage 16 (the beating of the buttock plate fluid). To go beyond this point may render the child unable to return to his duties immediately. On the other hand, if that child be our own spawn, flash and blood, I find it fully permissible to complete all 19 stages.

Dear Isambard,,

What is your favourite cake?

Yours sincerely, Jeanette


This varies greatly. For example, during my sojourns to Bristol, I like to perambulate the City streets at night until I hear the familiar cry of "Brandy-balls! Brandy-balls! Here you are! Brandy-balls, four a penny! Hot spiced ginger nuts! The raal sort! Hot as fire!" Often, I do not return to my lodgings until morning light. One other favourite is the Thomas Telford cake, which my housekeeper and bed warmer Beatrice McGrundypipe makes to my own particular specifications. It is a rather large, round, doughy cake, filled with raspberry jam and shortbread biscuits. Rather than eat it, I like to punch it repeatedly whilst screaming �Bridges, Telford? Bridges? I�ve shat �em!�

Dear Isambard (may I call you Isambard, Isambard?),

I am currently suffering from a terrible temporary affliction which has caused paralysis in my left and right and middle. How can I pass the time until this wears off?

Yours sincerely,

Reginald McVicston, Watford (Railway Station)

Dear Reginald

I once suffered a very similar affliction. Mrs Beatrice McGrundypipe, my housekeeper and bed warmer, attributed it the bastard rigours of entering architectural competitions to, I bastard digress. I assume that your upper and lower are still in fine bastard fettle. If so, you may while away many a bastard hour trying to light and smoke a cigar using your bastard feet. If this is not to your taste, you may (for a reasonable fee) make use of my patented Mouth-o-Matic, especially designed to aid and amuse those unfortunate bastards as yourself. Here is an example of the jaunty, gay time I had whilst recovering from, well.

Use of my device will set you back by the cost of a dozen raal brandy balls. No need to bastard thank me.

Dear Isambard Kingdom Brunel,

What sort of punishment would you devise for Frank Skinner?


Mrs Venison.

Young Mrs Venison

I have given this matter a great deal of bastard thought. In my mind, the punishment must fit the crime but we must consider the possibilites of bastard reformation of character. So, for the crime of Shane and Blue Heaven, I prescribe that Mister bastard Skinner is encased in my patented Diversionary Activities Chair. Whilst encased, he shall be bastard forced to spend one week watching episodes of Terry and June back to back, hour after hour. This should cure him of his bastard desire to create cumbersome and predictable sitcoms. The Diversionary Activities Chair can also be used to reform the bastard character. For example, Mister Skinner once shamefully chose to deride the delights of the older female. Again, once encased in my chair, he can be subjected to a sensory overload as provided by my housekeeper and bed warmer Mrs Beatrice McGrundypipe, who will dance the Sexxus Dance of One Thousand Bastards.

Again, I can vouch for the effectiveness of my design, having bastard utilised myself on the occasion of my unfortunate....ahhh....incident. Here is a pictorial rendition.

I hope this is of help

Dear IKB,

Can you build egg bridge?

Yours Truly,

Rt. Hon. Bishop Harold Bishop

My dear sir

Perhaps you have not heard of my excellent bastard reputation in the field of bastard bridge building. I can build a bridge using any material available, including bastard oxygen. Marvel if you will at my most current bastard masterpiece, The Castle of Egg.

I am sure that you will agree, an egg bridge is not far behind. Unless, of course...unless...that cunt Telford.....graaaaaa.......aaaaaarrrrrk......what is the next bastard question?


This girl I know told me that when you go up an escalator and someone is standning in front of you, you inhale their entire body weight in skin particles. Is this true?

Concerned, Tiramisu Mountain


I can advise that this is only partially correct. Whilst standing behind someone travelling upwards on an escalator, you will inhale the skin particles coming from the ass region only. The weight of this will of course entirely bastard depend in the size of the ass you are inhaling. In my experience, this can also occur when following someone towards a stage or awards podium. I once found myself with an entire cheek of ass in my mouth on such an occasion. The Police Constable attempted to infer that I willingly bastard placed the ass cheek in my mouth by way of brute force but this is plainly untrue. Once again, that cunt tried to steal the truth from me.....the truth.....AND MY BASTARD PRIZE......grrrmmmmmmk.....ahem.

Dear Isambard,

"Egg" and "Anus" are funny words. Agreement?


Curious in Blackpool

Mr Blackpool,

They are bastard amusing sir! However not as amusing as 'choking', 'telford', 'death', 'while', 'ramming', 'plans', 'arse'. Those words always make me bastard chuckle.

Thank you so much for my bastard questions. I am heartily bastard spent! I must retire to my private chambers and instruct my ass dweller and house boy to begin my medicinal administrations. What what!

Dear Isambard,

What shape is an egg?


Professor Sampson, Cambridge

Professor Cambridge,

Eggs? EGGS? Eggs are bastard egg-shaped aren't they? Listen sunshine, I can't be dealing with your lah-di-da "Ooh, look at me, with my clever questions about eggs" when I'm digging a bloody tunnel - one moment's distraction and I'm up to my eyeballs in rocks and dead navvies, and what'd I say to the committee about that, smart arse? "Sorry, I was thinking about eggs"? That bastard Telford'd just go "Eggs, Brunel? Eggs aren't going to build this tunnel. I think I'll build yet another sodding canal". Is that what you want, more bloody canals? A Britain full of BASTARD CANALS? Get out of my way.