Peter Andre may have been cryogenically frozen Wednesday, 17 August 2011



Peter Andre first visited these shores in 95’, he came bearing gifts, and Peter’s gift to us was the single ‘Mysterious Girl’, yes I know it’s like opening a Christmas present and finding a dead pet.

Then sometime in1998 he and his chip fat hair and original Greek nose departed these shores, he just simply disappeared and wasn’t seen again until a few years ago in the Australian jungle hunting and chasing the money, but caught the booby price……Jordan!

Peter hasn’t changed at all since the early days the only thing that has and does change is his haircuts and the amount of lardy arse brothers he has on the payroll….oh and that Greek nose had to go when it refused to let him sing through it anymore, it was replaced with a more agreeable one, one that would let every note flow through it instead of his mouth

Now after being treated like a dog with fleas by Katie Price his managed to work his way back into the nations heart and has given us ‘Peter Andre Here 2 Help’, yes his at it again with the gifts and just like back in 95’ it stinks like a dead pet.

Im holding out for an American Cryogenics company to admit that there was a meltdown due to power grid failure somewhere in Texas and Peter effectively escaped and isn’t due to be released until 2050, I want albeit a harmless face stuck in the 90’s put back in the freezer and any other Andre projects put on ice, as long as it’s not ‘Dancing on Ice’!

Things you shouldn’t do or shouldn’t happen (Part 4) Monday, 15 August 2011




Car drivers are a funny lot, ok first thing you shouldn’t do is leave your hand hanging out your windows as you drive, your trying to tell anyone with the gift of sight that your bad to the bone, a bad boy, you shouldn’t be doing it in a Escort from the early 90’s but it’s the economic climate that’s prevented you from your destiny, the 1969 cherry red mustang will have to wait…………..You are a knob you are not the Fonz!

You should never find yourself in a traffic jam and begin to hand tap your roof to whigfield ‘Saturday night’, its doesn’t matter what car your in with each tap you are sending out morse code to the rest of us that spells….I….M…..A….C….U….N…T.. A…N….D…..M…Y….W….I….L…..L…Y….I…..S…..A…..J…..O…..K…..E!

Thirdly arriving at a packed petrol station like Marty arriving back from the future and disembarking like everyone should applaud is your first failing, sliding the unleaded nozzle into your willing vehicles petrol tank and proceeding to lean your whole 17 stone body weight upon the vehicle like your Mr Cool puts you in a league of your own, if your 50 wearing chino shorts and a £15 polo shirt the only league your in is a pub dart team.

Driving a Nissan…WHATEVER as long as its from the 90’s and Black has to be Black and has a cherry bomb exhaust tells everyone a little a bit about you already, arriving at a petrol station tailgating a normal driver and playing some hip hop with your bass and treble to the max tells us all a little bit more about you, putting in £5 of petrol tells me everything I already knew…….you and your car are a joke, I cant help but laugh as I follow your chav arse into pay.  

Rose West would kill for a game of Monopoly Sunday, 14 August 2011



Rose West is burying money instead of dead bodies into property, that’s right she kills time now rather than people playing Monopoly, and just like her pastime she’s addicted to it.

A source at Low Newton prison said: "She took up the game to lessen the boredom, after all not a lot can replace the excitement and adrenalin of blood curdling screams and killing of people and then digging a grave and tossing a lifeless corpse into it, but she’s hooked and is definitely the units Monopoly champ."

The only time she shows any emotion comes in the form of a eye twitch whenever she lands on ‘Go to Jail’.

The source goes on to explain her success at Monopoly,  "Rose is a strategist if you show any sign of weakness or indecision or take your eye of the ball for a moment she’s all over you, your as good as dead and spend the rest of the game up to your neck in dirt…I mean debt!"

Bert & Ernie love bumming! Thursday, 11 August 2011



Sesame street has been brought to you by the letter H…….H is for Homosexual’s, yes it seems Bert and Ernie are ready to come out, they’ve been banging the shit out of each other for nearly 30 yrs behind closed doors.

I hope we don’t get a string of gay style lyric’s from them, “Hey Ernie I found this letter C under your Torso of the week magazines, what can we do with it?”

I know a song with the letter C in it Bert it goes like this , “C is for Cottaging…C is for Cock....C is” ….NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!  

It’s a shock to me having watched Bert and Ernie as a kid, I want cookie monster to come out too but he can drop the pretence and the euphemism ‘cookie’ and replace it with the word and object that ravages his mind….. ‘PUUUUSSSSSYYYY’ whilst ramming knickers in his mouth!

Super Stooopid! Monday, 8 August 2011



If im stuck down a blind alley after shining a laser pen into a Greek cabbies eyes, the last thing I want to see marching down to my aid is one of the Superheros from ‘Superheros of Surburbia’ I might as well stab us both and get it over with.

Superheros of  Surburbia is the latest documentary in the First Cut series for channel 4 and explores how a number of ordinary people have donned superhero garb in the past few years and taken to the streets.

Unlike other superheros who have undergone life changing accidents such as gamma rays, spider bites, distant planetary explosions, our superheros simply yearn to be a superhero, its like thinking you’re a millionaire with a tenner in the bank.

The Dark Spartan or Will as his known at home to the wife has sparred no expensive on his outfit but apparently is going through a bit of a breakdown which goes someway into explaining why he thinks his a member of the infamous 300 of Sparta, his enlisted a sidekick which actually makes him look like a genuine superhero, Black Void is prone to irritable bowl syndrome and has only a cane which he twirls like a 15 yr cheerleader when under attack, he has taken the less expensive route on costume he looks like a big kid whos mum has stuck him in some ill fitting pyjama’s.

The last of the superheroes was a confused teenager who had a niggling doubt about his ability to be a superhero but none the less was determined to be one, in fairness the doubt would be the standard emotion in any human that has NO super power except for being super stupid.

So The Dark Spartan , to his credit he did have a good superhero costume and had the balls or stupidity depending on your take to enter Torquay town of a weekend in full regalia by taxi and stand by looking superhero’ish overseeing events as police tackled drunken youths , with no martial art skills or weapons to protect him his a sitting duck , a NHS A&E statistic waiting to happen.

The Dark Spartans costume looks impressive but I suspect his Roman like shield wasn’t adequately pressure tested, the true test will probably come in the shape of a  volley of spit, verbal abuse, and adidas canvas trainers that will no doubt rain upon it one weekend when the locals grow tired of his presence, if his job as a superhero is to take both verbal abuse and sooner or later a volley of physical abuse then he is indeed serving the community.

The worst Superhero costume goes to 17 yr old Kieran or Noir, he clearly hasn’t got the heart or the imagination for it, if you just cut a eye mask out of the orange box your Nike trainers came in and wear only that your leaving yourself open to being  both recognized and ridiculed.

The mask is crude, it doesn’t hide the big hair or the everyday clothes he wears all the time, and his less likely to be taken seriously if he deems giving a girl who’s recently been mugged a box of Maltezers as job done, instead of tracking the thug down the rain soaked streets under the cover of darkness and dishing out some vigilante violence.

Sure his hearts in the right place but its only a matter of time before it finds itself skewed to a knife like a red onion on a kebab spike as he leaps into a gangland postcode turf  battle, with nothing but good intentions and a orange cardboard box eye mask to protect him!

No make my superhero Highlander, I want Connor McCloud by my side down that alley taking the stabbing over and over again laughing as he slowly gets back up from his knees, until of course he realises his not actually a superhero who’s immortal his Jason Page from Leicester who’s been missing from his hometown for 3 weeks after his cheese business went belly up and he stopped taking his anti depressants.

A superhero without a superpower is like having a blog nobody reads….pointless!.........wait a minute?









Nordic Thunder Sunday, 31 July 2011



Ive been wondering what is a bigger waste of time this blog or a man dressed in a leather tunic pretending to play a imaginary guitar.

Air Guitar is where you stand and play a imaginary guitar to some cool rock track, flicking your long damp hair, fingering the fret board at breakneck speed to an equally sad crowd of onlookers who are dazzled by your ….er …. brilliance on that invisible guitar.

I don’t know how this past time ever got out the bedroom and in some circles considered cool, I pray we don’t get Air Wanking.   

The Us Air Guitar championships took place recently and Nordic Thunder or Justin Howard as he known in his hometown was crowned the champion. To be fair Ive seen  a drunk Scot act exactly the same way in Leicester square as a way of disgust at being ejected from some fancy London bar, he did shout ‘Big man’ a few times during his set, and for an encore threw up but he was the real deal!

There’s nothing cool about Air Guitar, its ridiculous.

  

Charles Bronson does ‘ART ATTACK’. Friday, 22 July 2011



Charles Bronson is the sort of person/vehicle a child would draw if they were asked to draw something that could pull a Tyrannosaurus Rex’s head off with its bare hands.

Talking of drawing ‘The Mirror’ newspaper reports that Britain’s most dangerous inmate recently went mental and took on nine officers from the prisons ‘Tornado’ response team after having his crayons confiscated.

The Tornado team deployed nine well trained officers with a ‘Death Wish’, decked out in head to toe body armour, armed with nine batons and a vat of pepper spray …….., Charles Bronson turned up to the battle naked… like you do, armed only with a tub of Utterly Butterly and enough hate to fill a Al-Qaeda suggestion box .

A prison officer on routine morning patrol alerted staff of his discovery, he said: “ I was doing my normal patrol and thought I could smell hot butter, my stomach growled, I thought that’s funny the canteens been closed for hours , I peered into the gym where the smell was emanating from, I was greeted by a naked Charles Bronson bending over a dumb dell set applying what looked like the last of a tub of Utterly Butterly to his  buttocks, my stomach stopped growling and started turning as I knew we were in for a long lunch with plenty of knuckle sandwiches on the menu.

The battle reportedly lasted five hours, ‘The Mirror’ reported that Bronson is thought to have been protesting about a ban on receiving the materials he needs to do his art, the proceeds of his art help pay for his fees for his ongoing legal appeal, which will be ongoing a little bit more now.

In keeping with the TV trend for all things cookery Ive made a recipe that encapsulates the saga.

Here’s how to make a Buttery Bronson, be warned it’s potent and liable to take your mouth off:-

Ingredients:-
Take 120kg of notorious incarcerated prison hard man,
add 1 life sentence,
extract all art materials,
allow to simmer then just add butter.

Serving suggestions:-
Decorate gym with 9 or so guests armed for battle
Place a boiling Buttery Bronson amongst them.

Emmerdales Andy Sugden’s Guns are useless! Wednesday, 20 July 2011




Whats going on in Emmerdale, whats all the fuss about the blank canvas ‘Andy Sugden’?

The man that could start a row in a phone box, Oh I see his arms have exploded but you never see him working out on’t farm, his either shovelling shit, washing his hands in’t basin with overalls on , or down ‘Woolpack’ being an annoying little turd who punches way above his weight with the ladies…...guns or no guns! 

How does he get guns like that anyway, is he up the farm working out swinging from beams and punch dancing to the sounds of footloose pausing only to swig a bottle of beer in his dungarees, or as I suspect injecting himself full of banned EU cow steroids and snorting offal whilst wanking himself off in front of a full length mirror before choking cows to death in a vice like headlock, licking himself and admiring his guns in the process.

There needs to be some balance and realism injected into Andy Sugden’s character, I wont be happy until his alone in a field and takes it upon himself to remove the blockage from the shrub grinder and looses both arms in doing so, I then want to see him in the Woolpack sipping beer through a curly silly straw.

Swagger Jagger makes me want to cross the central reservation and take out innocent motorists



Swagger Jagger the new song by the lip curling gurner Cher Lloyd, makes me want to end life, mine, yours, anybody’s I just want the sound omitting from the pop wannabe to stop.

When I first saw Cher Lloyd I was astounded at how similar she looked to Cheryl Cole, then they did a close up and I saw the similarity could be likened to…. say how The Olympics and the Paralympics are similar.

Cher Lloyd does have talent but its tainted with cockiness, some would pass it off as exuberance of youth, or as she’s female than a Diva, its not though she’s just cocky and nothing kills a raging stiffy quicker than a young woman thinking she’s the shit, except perhaps a woman that has just revealed a pair of tattooed hairy bollocks after you’ve spent the best part of the evening chatting her up, not to mention the £20 of sambucas you spent on the lying shemale.

Cher Lloyds new song is a manufactured piece of pop shit, and the poor girl is the face of this runaway vehicle, im willing to meet her head on and cross reservations if it puts a stop to her song and me having to hear it again.

Do you remember when Richard Hammond’s head was a boiled egg and the earth was a giant spoon Tuesday, 19 July 2011



You may remember when Richard Hammond the pint sized Top Gear presenter strapped himself to a turbine jet engine with a steering wheel and drove it and himself into the Top Gear test track turf at 300 m.p.h, he managed to do that in a straight line, thank fuck he wasn’t behind the controls of a light aircraft, one 9/11 is enough.  

He was airlifted to hospital and for a moment it looked touch and go that Top Gear would have two vegetables on their hands working along side James May.

Ive begun to notice that his beginning to show outward symptoms of the injury, his growing his hair long which makes him look like a psychiatric out patient on day release.

Not to mention the mind numbingly boring and given the nature of his accident the ironically titled “Total Wipeout” which he commentates on.

Richard also featured in the ‘Morrisons’ advert, but who hasn’t, his seen walking across an empty field pushing a trolley which apparently required no acting at all, all that was required was a simple telephone call from his wife alerting the Tv executives and camera crew that Richard had left the house with a shopping trolley and was last seen heading for the hills to do some shopping, I applaud his management for cashing in.

Im still unsure if Richard Hammond is a cash hungry media type who will do anything for money or still coping with the after effects of his crash, I can forgive it all but not ‘Total Wipeout ‘,  I fear my complaint to Ofcom will be thrown out though as I suspect the target audience,are the brain dead!

Car Boot Fairs where Gypo’s sell shit to Gypo’s Monday, 18 July 2011


Car Boot fairs are where you go to argue and barter with people with less teeth in their heads than eyes.

The obligatory shit car is filled with …er…..shit tat which eventually makes it way to a painter and decorator wallpaper pasting table. There’s nothing more soul destroying than seeing an old woman who’s still bearing the exuberance of her once lost youth by means of tasteless tattoo’s around her neck, arguing over the price of a wooden dildo in the middle of a Saturday afternoon.

Carboot sales are where people that should really be in counselling or doing community service frequent in a vain hope to bag a bargain, and deprive someone who clearly is already deprived of the only thing of worth they ever owned.

You see it in every other episode of Dickenson’s real deals, the tea reading gypsy with the French lalique bowl she found at a carboot sale for a quid, but Id rather see the poor ripping the poor off than some salmon trouser posh tit profiting from some old dears misfortune that’s just evil.

To describe a Carboot fair to someone whose never been is to say if you threw a fence around the perimeter of it all you’ve basically got a scene from ‘Escape from New York ’ with most of the characters in tow, your sure to meet someone called ‘Snake’ looking to sell you some shit.


News of the World phone hacking is old news




Is anyone now interested in the phone hacking scandal, day after day, its BORING!
Like phone hacking is a new phenomena…. er… no phone hacking has been going on for decades, what about Diana gate or Robert Maxwell who decided to suck peoples pension pots dry, then anchored himself off the Canary Islands and drowned after attempting a worlds first by diving into the sea and trying to suck the ocean bed of its natural resources.

This follows true to reason that if you give too few people too much power it almost always leads to corruption, or in the late Michael Jackson’s case a 'Disney' like voice and insanity.

Im waiting for Simon Cowell to implode I want him to join forces with David Icke, the man that was a one time sports presenter and then told by God that he was the chosen one, a prophet and that a 'Sports Direct' turquoise tracksuit would mark his transition from one time sports presenter to messiah, a messiah that believes some people are lizard humans controlling the world, that’s one phone hack I would like to have eavesdropped on, you could forgive News of the World that one.

Now can we get back to what really matters and put Cheryl Cole back on the front page you shouldn't take a picture perfect girl who shits money and farts perfume off our frontpages, the spell may be broken otherwise.  

  

Things you shouldn’t do or shouldn’t happen (Part 2) Thursday, 14 July 2011


White middle class village Ghetto Boys
Talking like you’re a urban black yoof off a Hackney council block when you live with mum and dad in a countryside £250k detached abode renders you a joke and the only one who doesn’t get it is you bruv!

 If you happen to be black and young and from an inner city council block its fine by me, it’s cultural and brought about by your environment in which you live in, day in day out.

How can you take the idiot seriously when he lives in a village where the average age is eighty and the main vehicle of choice is a motorized chair, you need to “shut the fuck up couz”, I don’t care if you have a bling bling Argos earring and a Henley t-shirt, you aint black, even when you suck your teeth at me with your hood up I still know your not black, even when you use the word ‘Ting’ im still on to you, even when you pull rap star poses whilst ‘tinking over da McDonalds menu choice” I know you’re a white boy whose mum picks up and washes his soiled pants, “do you get me blood… yeah?”

Things you shouldn’t do or shouldn’t happen (Part 1)




Old women driving Citroen Saxo’s.
The Citroen Saxo is synonymously linked with young pretty people and being compared to a tardis whisking young people from this world to the afterlife usually in the early hours of the morning on a wet road.

There’s nothing worse than stalk…..er…following a blond bob home that you’ve spotted through your Texaco mirror aviators at the wheel of a Citroen Saxo from a distance.

Private eye Jim Rockford (Rockford files) would be proud as you maintain the golden rule of following three car lengths behind your target whilst juggling with a Starbucks coffee as you lurch round corners, what happens next will set you up to be both bitterly disappointed and at least a tenner down in petrol, not to mention the red light fines that are winging their way to your front door as you speed through them to keep on her tail.

When you both pull up outside what must be her parents home, her clutching her house keys, you clutching your cock in anticipation, your heart and faith in mankind go out the window when she turns round and instead of a twenty one year old ‘Babestation’ plaything you find you’ve been stalking a sixty plus pensioner who’s more adapt to sucking on werther’s originals than sucking on knobs……It’s bloody wrong ! 



     

       

  


Cowboy builders put unrealistic price on Dominic Littlewood’s head Tuesday, 12 July 2011




Telly’s Dominic Littlewood  has gone into hiding since the news broke that a syndicate of cowboy builders have put a contract out on his head.

Dominic Littlewood’s spokesperson said :" Dominic’s very brave……….with a camera crew behind him that is, however this news has come as a bit of a surprise to both Dominic and I as we thought his public persona was that of a cheeky chappie doing good work in the community, turns out that hasn’t been translated through the lens and by all accounts his come across as a mouthy short arse who likes nothing more than to goad and be righteous".

Dominic has recently been described as what the late Kojaks penis would have been if it could have talked.

It’s known some of the BBC ‘Cowboy builders’ production team call him ‘Little Kojack’ his taken to sucking a lollipop and walking around the BBC corridors winking and quoting “Who loves ya baby” no ones had the heart to tell him the nickname is in reference to his likeness to Kojack’s willy and not the detective himself.

BBC Cowboy Builders producer said " If I had a pound for every time someone had called him a smug face cunt,  I wouldn’t have to work with the gobby shite again ".   


BBC Head of entertainment said “It’s true we have been tipped off that a price has been put on Dominic’s head ,we heard it was set at five thousand pounds and that the job would be done by next week, we now know its gone up to seventeen thousand as they have stumbled upon a few unforeseen problems.

The syndicate of cowboy builders seem to be stalling and now claim it can’t be done yet as the weather recently has been changeable but promised it will be any day now as they have something ‘concrete in the pipeline’, they have stopped answering our calls and emails, true to form they are reliably unreliable, were onto them and are preparing to send Dominic out to expose them.”


   

Equal opportunities are still not allowing straight men to become Interior Designers Friday, 8 July 2011



Straight men are still being muscled out of Interior Design jobs by their homosexual counterparts.

Its not known if pop culture shows like 60 minute makeover or 'Justin & Colin 'have influenced the job field.
   
A recent survey suggested heterosexual men didn’t think they could be an Interior Designer unless they could master effortlessly over exaggerated hand movements and be able to produce a high pitch scream or laugh at under pressure workmen.

It’s questionable if straight men can really cut the mustard in this field when it was discovered a straight man was masquerading as a gay interior designer, he was discovered when upon the ‘reveal’ there was no sign of red flock wallpaper or black chandeliers.

The unlucky couple from Chigwell, Essex said “we didn’t expect magnolia and Ikea furniture”,.

The workman on site said “We suspected something was up when the guy passed up every opportunity to involve sexual innuendo's when we had our mid morning sausage butties, a real Interior Designer would rather woodchip the whole living room then pass that up.”

Flash Mob Gangbang Wednesday, 6 July 2011


A group of dwarfs and one woman gathered in a Brighton NCP underground car park and proceeded to take part in an impromptu flash mob gangbang today,

‘Flash mob’ craze started in the states and takes a group of people gathered in a public place performing something unusual together in a short space of time and then dispersing as if nothing happened”.

A witness said I was walking back to my car with my wife when a Vw Transporter van pulled up, I saw a six foot woman dressed as snow white and seven little dwarfs disembark, I thought they were about to hand out flyers for an upcoming stage show or something but what followed was shocking and graphic and it left my wife mumbling and gagging on her words which is how I will remember Snow white surrounded by dwarfs.

EastEnders punchbag Natalie Cassidy Fights Back….. OK!

Violence against a woman is deplorable even against Natalie Cassidy.

Natalie Cassidy or Sonia from EastEnders as I know her is all over the media spouting on about the domestic violence she recently suffered, she was apparently crying and chain smoking throughout a recent interview with ‘The Mirror’ newspaper which coincidentally is exactly what I used to do whenever I saw her on the reality show ‘Natalie Cassidy:Becoming Mum’.

I don’t know what it is about Natalie but Ive begun punching the newspaper whenever I see her gurning back at me from the tabloids, Ive also adopted her former violent fiancé’s drinking habits whilst following her public break up as this quote from Natalie’s interview describes’ : “I asked him not to come home and drink. He ignored me and that ended up being the argument every night. He’d say he’d just have one glass and then finish the bottle.

Its not clear whether or not the fiancé was being forced to watch EastEnders every evening if so then his actions would only mirror mine, I too drink excessively when its on and I to throw air punches at Natalie (Sonia) when she speaks.

I do lose sympathy for people that cash in though doing photo shoots and appearing in OK! Magazine off the back of it; it makes my blood boil Natalie…... where’s that newspaper!

Planking the 2nd most embarrassing way to die

Planking is the most pointless craze amongst teenagers right now, it often requires a level of stupidity only teenagers can manifest on a whim that could see them one minute laughing and being filmed on a friends mobile ‘planking’ on a hotel balcony, and the next hurtling to instant death pulling all manner of air shapes, anything but planking in fact. 

The jury is still out whether or not it’s dignified to bury a dead planker face down, surely it’s the right thing to do in the circumstance, give the kid some dignity.

It’s got to be one of the most embarrassing ways to die, being remembered as a giggling plank of wood, its one step up from being found with your pants round your ankles with an orange stuffed mouth and homosexual paraphernalia all over the home made dungeon your eventually found in. 

Jeremy Kyle’s a lying little bastard Friday, 1 July 2011



Jeremy Kyle’s breaking and making families on his show on a whim.

It turns out that his lie detector machine never actually worked and the results were whimsical depending on Jeremy’s gut feeling and the premium rate psychic hotline he relied on.

A production assistant said we discovered it didn’t work and approached Jeremy, he was very flippant and said “look at me….look at me ……the show will go on darling”, it was then we knew we had an ego maniac onboard.

It’s estimated that half of the predictions were inaccurate and there are now losers bringing up other losers children, ugly people still living with ugly people in unfaithful relationships.

When questioned about the allegations Jeremy said “The machine was bought off eBay and it transpires it didn’t work so what, I have a reliable psychic darling do you get me.”

After phoning the premium rate number and questioning her about her predictions to Jeremy the psychic confessed, “Look sweetheart  I don’t know nuffink, Im sixty seven with a mortgage and five gran kids I do this for a bit of spare cash, punters call I read a script that’s it.

ITV refused to comment other than to say we allocate a budget to the Kyle production team they are responsible for content and integrity.

When presented during filming on set with the the facts that the psychic was bogus Jeremy replied “Fuck you and your crew Im the daddy on this set” which threw further confusion onto a live paternity DNA test being carried out for a young inner city couple

Jeremy Kyle said he would take a lie detector test to prove he didn’t know that his actions were in anyway wrong or immoral but refused to take a third party independent lie detector test.









Tinsel Town Snitch in meltdown Thursday, 30 June 2011



The hills are alive with gossip that Ross King is receiving counselling and electric shock therapy.

It seems all that glitters is not always necessarily golden globes for the former GMTV entertainment anchor following a recent breakdown at a suntan spray booth.

Makeup Mandy’s suntan booth employee Caitlin said “He came in being his usual creepy self and was slurring his words, Id got as far as spraying his naked ass when he spun round and shouted im the biggest cock in Hollywood, I hit the panic button and he was forcibly removed from the shop”  

Police were also called to a recent awards ceremony after it was alleged he threw a punch at Cameron Diaz determined to break her nose after being snubbed for a impromptu on the spot interview, seen minesweeping drinks from V.I.P  tables, swiped a goodie bag reserved for celebs and later that night seen urinating upon Michael Jackson’s Hollywood star.

A recent break in at Sean Penn’s Hollywood beachside condo home point suspiciously to the one time friend of Hollywood, tell tale clues include,  a heavy foundation face imprint on patio French doors, a discarded teeth whitener pencil , a empty can of  Irn Bru, and key ring of Lorraine from ‘GMTV’days sucking her thumb suggestively.

Concern is his gone feral after the breakdown of Gmtv and the failings at Daybreak.

Worried celebs have reported seeing him sleeping rough and referring to celebs in his native tongue Glaswegian as ‘gobshites’

Close friends say his actions are totally out of character, gone is the cheesy fixed smile that would put you both on edge and at ease at the same time, the forced laughter and general arse kissing and dyed orange hair have been replaced with fits of rage, heavy drinking and grey roots.

His Hollywood publicist said “No comment” then retracted that statement and issued  another which was simply ‘fuck him you should see what his done in my pool’, but that’s Hollywood one minute your on top of the world in Hello magazine mixing it with the stars the next your on the streets sucking people off for food and mixing it with the underclass.

Reports that Carla Romano fell about laughing when told are unconfirmed.

   

Don’t go drinking with a Movie Hard Man. Wednesday, 29 June 2011



Casey Ryback from ‘Under Siege’ or better known as Steven Weird Triangle purple black hair transplant Seagal is a man that would stand for nothing, If he called me up mumbling that he had a weekend off coming up and lets go out drinking I would have to make an excuse , he is not who you want to go out drinking with at the bowling multiplex at a weekend.

The mumbling hardman is guaranteed trouble it would only take a simpleton to be smoking in a ‘non smoking’ area and a cheeky ‘go fuck yourself’ remark when asked to distinguish said cigarette before he set about destroying just about everybody within arm length with body slaps, you would be the one that gets the fatal glass stabbing, its your job as his sidekick.

In summary, handy to know on a cruise ship or the London underground after  otherwise forget it.

Dutch (Arnold Schwarzenegger) from ‘Predator’ would be great until he started cheerfully backslapping you whenever he laughed, nothing he says would make sense until you were on your seventh pint of snake bite and black, and the cigar smoke could be nauseous, also his machismo would render you looking like ‘Louie Spence’ and you don’t want that when your on the pull or its time to fight the bad guys.

In summary, The fun of you both shouting 'get to da chopper' would quickly be outweighed by you ending up looking so feminine next to him you would have a hard job convincing people you were not gay.  


Rambo first blood would be depressing you’d need to keep him off the whiskey and have to avoid all references to Vietnam and pray the jukebox doesn’t come a live at any point in the evening to the sounds of ‘19’ by Paul Hardcastle, your probably going to be putting in a call to Colonel Samuel Trautman when a police community support officer innocently asks you both to move along and make your way home at the end of a heavy cocktail session in ‘T.G.I Fridays’ at chucking out time.

In Summary his a loaded gun, one wrong word and he could be town bound popping wheelies on a stolen Yamaha DT125 and god forbid Colonel Trautmen’s mobile is off or in a signal less area should you need to put the call in.

Darius Danesh will fuck your women. Tuesday, 28 June 2011



Darius Danesh the 6ft 5inch anti-hero of music has and will try and fuck your Mum, your sister, your fat niece, your disabled gran, how?, with his eyes that’s how and a twisted smirk, whatever you do switch over whenever he arrives on screen, he will look deep into the lens and try and fuck them, he tried it with me when I watched  Popstars back in 2000 and I was having none of it, I spat in his face and turned the TV off.

It may be to late for some of you, if his held your aunties gaze for more than five seconds through the lens then she’s as good as been fucked, ten seconds and his done her twice, right in front of your very own eyes!

Don’t rest up thinking once his done he won’t do her again, he will, reach for the remote and put an end to it.
  
Darius has recently changed him name to Campbell, suggestions are that he wanted to embarrass the Scots by owning up that he is indeed Scottish which wasn’t welcomed by the Scots but the rest of us can breathe a sigh of relief.

I think it’s inevitable that Darius will one day pop up on the Eurovision song contest, he will then try and fuck the rest of the world if not with his eyes then with his terrible cheesy music.

 You’ve been warned, protect your women folk.



  

I want the Ceo of Robinson fruit drink to re-enact the advert in Tottenham Monday, 27 June 2011



I often watch adverts, say watch I am forced to watch the shit they push through the screen because money talks……, the latest heart warming ad that has no base in reality has been made by Robinsons. No doubt you’ve seen it, a middle class street and a middle class family with a token black kid for demographics thrown in.

What follows next is pure farce, the kids gather round mummy no doubt they call her mummy not mum, she provides them with a pitcher of Robinson juice and plenty of glasses they then embark across the local area handing out free drinks, its enough to make you call social services and report the bitch, what is she thinking.

This is corporate advertising for you, senior members of staff completely out of touch who probably haven’t heard of ‘rimming’ or ‘T-bagging’, they are living in a world that doesn’t exist.

These kids wouldn’t make it out of the street where I grew up they’d be found covered in Robinsons juice, spit and piss, and I grew up in Croydon which is nothing compared to Tottenham, they would have been tortured, water boarded with gallons of Robinsons.

I hate corporate adverts another is the Halifax but I will address that later when I can write anything, something, that doesn’t involve the word ‘cunts’.       


England Rugby player Mike Tindall prevents 20,000 suicides a month




Mike Tindall has become a pinup amongst the Ugly men of this country, passing an uncanny resemblance to sloth from the Goonies hasn’t hindered Mikes pulling ability, his not only giving royalty one but his going to marry into royalty.

This is a clear case of watering down the blue blood line done every now and again to prevent one fucking anothers bloodline, this is done in order to prevent bearing children that...er…look like Mike!

Thousands of men who have fucked up noses and nothing to write home about looks have stopped throwing themselves onto power lines, murdering innocent people before turning the knife on themselves or hanging themselves in their garage, if Mike can do horse face royal Zara Phillips they surely have hope of fucking Miss wanna be Britney Spears down at the local  ‘Railway Tavern’.

If it turns out Mike has a 10 inch penis then ‘Bet Fred’ are putting on good odds that suicide rates will sky rocket.


I ordered Noel Edmonds death

Cosmic ordering is a kind of religion it’s for people that want something for free.
What’s appealing about it is that unlike other religions you don’t have to partake in any strange rituals or dress up, you’re not required to don a tribal mask and spit at the full moon declaring all things cosmic are all powerful.

Noel Edmonds some say cosmic orderings leader brought it to my attention, he didn’t spell it out but planted the seed subconsciously, that seed is simply if a fool like that can make it and lead a charmed existence for so long using the system then anyone can, its current success has been founded on its genius advertising or just gullible people or a mix of the two.

I now know it doesn’t work/exist, how do I know?, I have an outstanding list of unfulfilled requests from the cosmic.

If the system works why haven’t I received ‘Life changing money’, why hasn’t one of the happy clappy pilgrims snapped and done a Mark Chapman on Noel Edmonds ass, why hasn’t Jedward been found in a rain soaked open grave, admittedly I did get excited when Jordan had that near fatal range rover crash some months ago with her Argentinean boyfriend but it couldn’t even do that right, so I urge you not to put all your faith into this scam and save some for God his not terribly reliable but if enough of us pray he might totally fuck Noel Edmonds up and his cosmic ordering scam.

Zumba brainwashing the fat Sunday, 26 June 2011

Zumba is a combination of aerobic and high-energy Latin and international beats that turns big ass Carole from accounts into some hip swinging ‘Nutty Professor’ dancing nightmare.  

In the the past fat women wouldn’t move unless it involved a sugary treat as way of bribery, but the chubsters are fighting back and now they have a medium in which they can express themselves.

Enter any Zumba dojo and you will find women a plenty heavy on the hips swinging that ass to a well choreographed routine, these women lose their inhibitions as soon as the beat drops, the class usually led by a bandana wearing coke snorting feminist who’s finishing 180 hours of community service whips the class up into a cult like frenzy, under different conditions and armed with bats and ill formed information they could be likened to a group of vigilantes roaming an estate for a paedophile, admittedly rocking up swinging their hips in unison might not be as intimdating as a group of feral kids that can't distinquish between stamping on an ant and stamping on a member of the church but none the less the point is they are lost in the moment.

The worst bit about Zumba is that its so easy to learn the steps, this allows the once down trodden fatties to suddenly think they are the bees knees and they begin to ‘give it large’ just when you begin to start likeing them for trying to lose weight, so you end up with a paradox, yes they are making an effort to improve themselves by the power of Zumba dance but ironically still end up  just being a fat dancing cunt from  accounts.
  

I see 'normal' couples Saturday, 25 June 2011

I see dead people, 'couples' that walk around like regular people, I feel like troubled nine-year-old ‘Cole Sear’ with Bruce Willis as my chaperone, I see them everywhere, pushing prams, driving faceless characterless vehicles like Renault Scenic’s with the halfords grey roof luggage carrier, wandering round town they all have the same haunted look about them.

I want to communicate with them find our their unfortunate back-story that led them to passing over. Sometimes it happens when I bump into someone I once knew and they communicate with me, the gaunt pale faces, arms outstretched, mouth a gap, telling me about the young children they have now, I see the eyes are gone and their a ghostly figure grasping for anything mutually interesting they can say, but they can never find the words, its always awkward, they know they are no longer in the land of the living, its breaks my heart when they reveal their off to Homebase, I have a gift or burden depending on your viewpoint.


WARNING an accent can make you sound like a cunt!

What is it with accents, I love watching 'Poms in OZ' with these brits that have been living there for six months standing around a community beachside barbeque
with flies all over them harping on about how great their life is now, back in England they were unhappy cunts.

Travelling to the other end of the world and introducing themselves to an unhealthy dose of radiation courtesy of the burning fire in the sky has somehow removed all signs of cuntishness but sadly only from their own prospective because its coming through loud and clear to me, it must be some time\displacement physics going on, now they just look like smug cunts, the remarkable thing for me is the speed in which they have adopted the nasally annoying twang and vernacular calling everybody an Abbo, the Australian accent is like a fatal water disease easily caught impossible to lose.


In summary its embarrassing adopting an accent, I will concede its ok over a period of time like twenty years or so but having a full on accent in days as opposed to years says more about the individual namely, your impressionable and a dick!, You wont catch me adopting an accent anytime soon ya facking mongrels!