Archive for December, 2008

If any of you lot watch this then I will disown you.

Alex

Why is this a TV show? (Entertainment, it says here. Untertainment, more like. Surely there is some sort of watchdog I could complain to?) We have already got You’ve Been Framed with the unutterably brilliant Harry Hill. Whereas for this, if you are cunt enough to watch it then you have to suffer that absolute spastic, Alex Zane (what is Alex Zane for? Answers in the comments, please. The only real use I can think of is if perhaps I had somehow shit myself, I would dress him in my befouled clothes and kick him around in a barrel full of knives.). Yet again, the controller of E4 has shown themselves to be some kind of visionary genius.
Will they show my favourite internet clips that I have seen this year? No they fucking won’t, the cunts.
Well, here they fucking are for yr delectation.
Do not watch these if you are at work.
Or in the company of others.
Or if you are a human being with any sense of morality what so ever.
Well, these are my top three.
Seriously, though. I strongly advise against clicking them. Especially the Man one. If you choose to click any of them then that is a legally binding admission that you are over 48 and prepared to see this sort of stuff (to be honest, it’s only the Man one people will have issues with. It’s fucking hilarious/horrific. If you do choose to watch it perhaps you would like to have a guess at what the fuck he got out of it, and what the fuck anyone else gets out of it, and at what point he thought “This is what the internet needs.” Is it his first time? Was that supposed to happen? Rudetube would be a much more entertaining show if any of the gurning, arch, interchangeable prickholes they use on that [or T4, don’t get me fucking started] had to interview this chap in a smarmy, ironic, sycophantic way). Well, consider that ample warning. I wash my hands of you people.

Man.

Women in love.

Everyone in love.

A lovely little kitten, to make up for what you may have seen, yesterday.

That’s probably not enough, is it? Here, have this, too.

A hamster, yesterday

Snow on Christmas day.
Turkeys that take an hour to cook.
The aurora borealis.
Hollyoaks village is turning into some kind of magical fantasy land where the usual rules of nature do not apply.

In other news, I am attempting to develop some sort of chocolate poisoning. There is nothing savory in my house.
Be seeing you…

Well it’s been a long time coming and there have been many, many requests for it, and here it bastard well is.

Sasha Grey, yesterday

My own idiosyncratic rules apply so, yes, one or two aren’t strictly speaking from this year, and one is an awful quality bootleg (Well, it’s not anymore, I got a better version but I left this in to show you my dedication.), but fuck you, yeah? Problem? Complain about it on yr own fucking blog, you cunt. This right here is my little universe. And fuck you too, if you want a tracklist. Anyway, who doesn’t like the mystery and adventure of simply not knowing what might be up next? If it makes you stroke yr chin, I have failed. Also, copyright is a cunt, so cease and desist my ass! Fell free to comment on this, not that it will make one jot of fucking difference. What I say goes, round here.
Get yr rarty arse here, here or here to download or listen to the fucker.
That picture up there is the cover for it, if you will. Copy and paste, copy and paste.
Be seeing you…

Listen up, viewers, this right here is the best track in the entire fucking history of music ever. This week, anyway. Get yrself right on over here to see more about it.

CORNELIUS from borntofilm on Vimeo.

And this one, too. It’s fucking nastiness.

Huoratron - $$ Troopers from New Judas on Vimeo.
Be seeing you…

Christmas in Chester, yesterday

For reasons best known to themselves, Channel 4 elected not to use my carefully plotted idea for Christmas Hollyoaks and have instead seen fit to offer us a, let’s be fair, interminable set of hour long shows. They sit there, the greybeards in their ivory greenhouses, throwing all their chickens into one basket before they have hatched, not caring a jot what the man on the street (“I’ve met the man on the street, and he’s a cunt.” - Sid Vicious) wants from his not-quite-as-good-as-“As If”-teen-soap-opera. So what have we learnt? Well, don’t submit scripts to Channel 4, straight off the bat. That’s lesson one, right there. And if you do email them off, just accept that there is no way it will ever get made, don’t keep checking yr email in the half hope that they might realise its genius.

Anita is my favourite at the moment, cheeky, clever, irrepressible (I *think* I might be vaguely acquainted with her sister, but I wasn’t really listening when I was told. So I might be wrong.) and much better looking than Lauren - the original bulldog chewing a wasp (Is it wrong of me to assess which of these two clearly underage girls I would rather sleep with?
Yes. Yes, I think it is [on a vaguely related subject I am writing a bit looking at how racism is used on TV as shorthand for societal ills, and which, if any words are acceptable to use. It is going to be called Pakis And Niggers. So look forward to that, then.].).

Some racism, which is a bad thing, yesterday

Warrens wedding allowed the writers to flesh Foxy out a little bit, giving him a background and a mentally handicapped foster brother (played by the dead brother in Dead Mans Shoes). This serves the dual purpose of showing how he came to be the person he is (also aided by discussions with Ravi about “this caper we pulled off years back” scripted, it seems by Guy Ritchie [who is not busy now he no longer has to iron all Madonnas frocks every night {while I’m on the subject, it is often speculated that Guy Ritchie has the cleanest penis in show business due to the ‘banjo cleaner’ gap in Madonnas teeth <joint first with David Furnish, anyway.>.}.].) and finally letting us understand why anyone would ever like him.

In the new year it all gets uncomfortably scat fixated with comedy racist cartoon character Gaz smearing shit on the walls of the Kebab hut. His own shit. Smeared all over the walls. How angry do you have to be that you pick up your own shit and, squeezing it between yr fingers like wrong playdoh, write in stinky crayon across a building? I don’t think I have ever been that pissed off with anyone, ever. Maybe Ste has been (Ste is actually, honestly, in real life having it off with Gok Wan. TRUFAX.) Did Gaz drop it into his hands and carry it there, or did he do it there? Were his little gang with him? I will just have to wait to find out, won’t I? This is exactly what we need Hollyoaks Later for.

Calvin (a man who has become 24 times more interesting simply by me writing about him) becomes even duller, if you can imagine such a thing. The last time he was on TV my sofa actually fell asleep. A man who, if he spoke, say, 5 words, 6 of them would be stultifyingly tedious.

I feel a little sorry for Mike, the image of his daughter fucking his girlfriend would have most fellas stabbing the cat but he just has to wonder what he did wrong. Not only did he create a lesbian by doing sex at her (in the shape of Zoe), but furthermore he also invented one by the way he dragged her up (in the shape of Sarah). What an utter cunt, eh?

Intriguingly there is talk of “silent raves” and the selling of “knock off mp3s”. I am so excited to see how this is done. I can picture Zak and Michaela with a backpack full to the brim with a bubbling soup of mp3s, dipping in with a ladle to fetch them out.

A silent rave, yesterday

Be seeing you…
(Sorry, links to follow. I think someone has torn the internets somewhere.)