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Thursday, October 30, 2008

"QUE?" 

Confusion, chaos and agony is raging through Britain at the news that the BBC hasn't sacked anybody over the Russell Brand/Jonathan Ross business for a whole FORTY FIVE MINUTES.

The outrage has further been compelled by the fact that Jonathan Ross has been suspended without pay from the BBC for only TWELVE WEEKS.

Hah!  The corrupt, vile Ross won't feel any loss from that will he - twelve weeks' pay???  That would only be enough to buy the vile Ross one of his infamous suits!  One less suit in the Ross wardrobe - think about it!  Hardly going to cause him any sort of pain or suffering, is it?

The outrage has been described as the most controversial incident involving a British media figure since John Lennon suggested that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus, or the time that Lance Percival implied that John Profumo had "a wandering willy" during a topical calypso on the outrageous 1960's satire show That Was The Week That Was.

Rabid Daily Mail readers have announced that they have organised a protest march which will take place in London and will end in a demonstration outside the BBC Television Centre.  An estimated crowd of half a million Mail readers will wail and beat their chests like elderly peasant women at a funeral.  They will rub hot ashes all over themselves.  A pair of twenty foot papier mache effigies of Ross and Brand will be burned as people chant "skin the bastards".  

There has been criticism from a rival group of Sun reading Ross/Brand haters, who say that the demo could cause confusion, what with the effigy burning.  Some passers by may think that this is a part of Bonfire Night or Hallowe'en celebrations, and the power of the message will be lost, in the Sun readers' opinion.

An emergency BBC online questionnaire has been set up to determine exactly who should be sacked or suspended from shows next so that the BBC can be seen to "be doing the right thing" and to be answerable to its "customers".  So far, the most popular choices to be given the boot are Jo Brand (because she has the same surname as Russell Brand), Sir Bill Cotton (deceased), newsreader Huw Edwards, disc jockeys Edith Bowman, Rob "Da" Bank and Sir Terry Wogan, and weatherman Daniel Corbett.

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Sunday, October 26, 2008

WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE 

At the moment I'm too busy knitting shawls for sickly children and handing out bowls of thin soup to the poor people of the parish to blog.  I do a lot of work for charidee, but I don't like to talk about it.

So here's a guest blogger who has got something to get off his chest - multi award winning singer/songwriter Billy Joel.


Hi, I hear a lotta talk goin' around about the noo sound in rock 'n' roll!  It's blowin' up all over the radio and TV even as I speak!  All I hear is yadda yadda about the noo johnny come lately guys like Tom Petty or Huey Lewis or The Cars gettin' their young pretty ass faces on the MTV!  Look, I have nothin' against these guys, but I kinda take offense to all the hype they're gettin', and all the headlines screamin' that "WHAT THEY DO IS THE NOO SOUND!  IT'S THE END OF THE OLD STYLE ROCK 'N' ROLL AS WE KNOW IT!"  This is all so much bullshit!

When I see those guys on the MTV, I have to smile.  The way they strut about and the clothes they wear ... shit, those guys wouldna been outta place in the neighborhood I grew up in!

What these producers of music shows should do is talk to the older guys like me, or Shadow Morton, or Neil Diamond.  When we were hangin' around on street corners, runnin' with gangs on the wrong side of town ...

THE GUYS WE USED TO LOOK UP TO USED TO LOOK LIKE HUEY LEWIS!!!  STRAIGHT UP, NO KIDDIN'!!

All these noo guys and the way they dress ... sheez ... the drape jackets, the plaid pants, the bootlace collars...

THOSE WERE THE GUYS THAT USED TO BE THE GANGLEADERS!!!!  

I'D LIKE TO SEE TOM PETTY FACE DOWN ONE OF THOSE GUYS IN HIS TIGHT ASS PANTS AND CUBAN HEEL WHITE BOOTS AND DRAPE JACKETS!!!

It was a tough upbringing, runnin' with the gangs on the wrong side of town, but you learned to look afta yourself and to have respect for others.  We would get inta fights but it was small scale stuff by modern standards - flick knives and so on.  None of the gun murderin' that goes on now.  I hope for all our sakes that Huey Lewis isn't packin' a piece.  What kind of message would that send out to young Americans?

Look, I'm not complainin', some of those guys are makin' good music and it's a goddamn sight better than all the awful English  synthesized haircut bullshit you get from The Flocka Seagulls or whomever I saw assault my eyes and ears on the MTV last night.  Now, if this shit takes over it really WILL be the enda rock 'n' roll!

All I'm sayin' to Huey Lewis is ...

it's still rock 'n' roll to me.

... whether it's old wave, noo wave, schmoo wave.  All hail rock 'n' roll!

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Sunday, October 19, 2008

THCWEAM AND THCWEAM UNTIL I'M THICK 


ALTERNATE TITLE: A FAT MOONFACED TROLL PIG FIGHTS BACK


With apologies to Vicus, who recently suggested that blogging posts about blogging are wanky, tedious and self referential. He is right, of course.

I found out about this because Geoff happened to be looking up stuff on the internet the other night. 

Um, anyway, the blogger who shall go unmentioned can't be writing about me, er, can she? Possibly. There seem to be a few too many coincidences ...

I published an off the cuff post a few months ago which was a hasty response to a TV interview with a journalist/writer.  She had a blog which she'd used as a platform to promote her writing. I'd not read the blog in question at the time.  

I couldn't remember exactly what I'd written and had to re-read the post.  It was written in bloody July after all!  I was relieved to find out that the opinions expressed are ones I'd still stand by, and agree with a lot of the comments that were made by other bloggers. 

Hmm, I'd better come back with some sort of response to her though - because I'm a sad failure who has nothing better to do.  I'm not appearing at village fetes or hanging out snorting coke at Bungalow 8 with Michelle McManus, Gloria Hunniford  and Vernon Kay, or whatever it is you do when you're a hugely successful writer.  Boo hoo for me then.

Look, I really don't want to have to mention this again here, because it seems to be my endless and irritating theme, but ... I AM A BLOGGER, NOT A WRITER.

I will hold my hands up and say that my writing is crappy, ill thought out, pointless ranting. There are a few spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. My knowledge of the English language comes from a bog standard 1970's comprehensive school education.  Middle class people have a problem with the "poor" use of the English language. It's one of the things they use to beat down the lower orders with, along with the fact that *we* all eat Iceland ready meals and burgers straight from the freezer rather than cooking everything *from scratch* for three days on the Aga.

What I love about blogging is that it gives people from supposedly ordinary backgrounds a chance to express themselves. If they only have an audience of three people who they already know, if what they write about is of limited interest, if the blog isn't even that good - who gives a fuck? It's a form of self expression and communication.

I love the diversity of the people who blog, the lack of rules, the way bloggers link to others, the spontaneity, the informality, the eclecticism and, often, the writing.

What I don't like is the implication that there is a hierarchy of bloggers, and that the ones with the biggest audiences and the book deals are the only bloggers that matter.

They may be the ones who'll be interviewed on Radio Four, or featured in arts supplements. Good luck to them.  It's great that they've got ahead in that way.

However, the fact that someone has a book deal, a big audience and a shed load of money doesn't instantly mean that they're "good". If this were the case, the writers of Beyond The Implode or Ritual Landscape would be raking the cash in. Hah!

Strange, isn't it, that said blogger who shall go unmentioned really, really thinks that all bloggers yearn to write a book and get a book deal and make loads of money, and we are jealous of the fact that she has worked as a journalist for fifty years, man and boy, and her blog is a fuck of a fuck of a lot betterer and betterer and more popular than anyone else's blog and, by the way, and, not a lot of people know this, we are all jealous of these facts.

Can't speak for all of you, but I don't want a book deal. I wanted to be an author when I was eight years old, and then I grew out of it. The only other thing I ever really wanted to be was Debbie Harry when I was fifteen ... or did I really just want to *have* Debbie Harry? Probably both.

I like the anonymity of blogging. I don't publish pictures of myself or talk about my private life in any detail and I've not met any other bloggers. Not really my type of thing. I'm a social phobic and find it easier to write stuff down than talk to people. Get over it. I have.

So, no - I'm not going to write my own book and I'm not going to make a shed load of money and I'm not going to be interviewed by Richard And Judy. You know what? I'm really fucking happy about that because I'm happy enough with my real life.  

I'm pretty sure that at least one or two of my, hem hem, "blogging penpals" aren't writing novels and don't have a desire to do so either.

In fact,  the thing I really object to in the post written by the blogger who shall go unmentioned is the use of the term "blogging penpals" (aka low earning failures in life who don't have any real friends). Shouldn't someone who's a seasoned and successful writer and who has been on the Charles Wheeler-style journalism frontline for several hundred years call them "civilians"? 

Anyway, rant over for another day. I'm off to collect Thomasina from her Greek Studies class, and Max has to have cello tuition ... sigh ... when will the fun ever start?

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Saturday, October 18, 2008

SEVEN ROOMS OF GLOOM 



RIP, the phenomenal Levi Stubbs.  The Four Tops are probably the least fashionable or acclaimed of the '60's Motown acts, but they're the ones I love the most.

Apologies for the not particularly good YouTube clip.  It's difficult to find early Four Tops footage on YouTube, even though I seem to remember them being on TV all the time when I was a little kid.  

I would've loved to put the peerless Bernadette on here instead, as it's probably among my favourite ten singles of all time, if I could be bothered to compile such a list.  Oh!  The melodrama, the disembodied, ghostly backing vocals and ... just ... Levi Stubbs really.

Respect.

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Friday, October 17, 2008

DEVASTATION STREET 

Greetings, penpals!  This week is MRRRRRDDDRRRRHH week - well, on Coronation Street, at any rate.

This is the week in which the much hyped MRRRRRRRRRDDDRRRRHH of Liam Connor takes place. Liam is going to be MRRRRRRRRRDDDRRRHHD by Scots Tony, the man with the glass eye.  Tony is consumed by jealousy because Liam and Tony's intended, Carla, are *meant to be togevva* and are getting up to all manner of filth behind Tony's back.  For one thing, they have put Alka Seltzer in the jug that Tony keeps his glass eye in "for a laugh".

Bollocks to that though.  All I'm thinking is "why are they doing this to me?"  "How can they get rid of Liam - my Liam?"

No doubt Liam (aka Rob James Collier) feels that, as a thesp, there is great depth, height and width to his acting skills, and there's a whole wide world out there.  Theatre, period dramas, maybe ... even ... Hollywood ...

This means that in a couple of months, I expect to see him in Holby City.  He'll be wearing turquoise nylon scrubs, and will be looking down at the bed of a ninety year old bloke who's just had his fifth heart attack.

Liam will say "it's no good mate, yer gonna 'ave to give up all that late night partyin' and gettin' off with all those women" in a jokey but kind hearted way to the poor old bastard who only has days to live and no visitors.

Whenever we watch Coronation Street, my other half always takes the piss out of the way Liam speaks.  He imitates Liam's voice.  Every time he tries to talk like Liam, the voice becomes more and more nasal and slack jawed, the lisp more pronounced and the accent more moronic.

"Fuck off" I retort.  "I don't take the mickey out of the fact that you fancy that policewoman who's six foot five and broad shouldered and has a moustache and bushy eyebrows and talks in a deep hoarse voice.  I even felt a bit sorry for her when she was beaten up by those girls in the bar and ended up losing sight in one of her eyes."

Well ... I DO take the mickey out of her, actually ...

Anyway, this is a picture of Dead Liam.  

Boo hoo.  Poor Liam.  Poor baby.  He looks so ... VULNERABLE.  People look so ... VULNERABLE when they're dead, don't they?

Cue Derek And Clive ...



You'll probably already know that the above is NSFW, but anyways ...

Peter Cook gives me the farkking 'orn.  Not 'arff.

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Sunday, October 05, 2008

JOSH WINK 

We watched the televised US Vice-Presidential debate while drunk. I'm sure it would've made less sense if we'd been sober.

I'm not sure what Americans mean when they talk about "The Middle Class".  Joe Biden kept referring to The Hard Done By Middle Class throughout the *debate* as the target demographic who should be voting for Barack Obama. Is The Hard Done By Middle Class really basically anyone who works in America who isn't an evil fat cat who has creamed off the profits of Wall Street? I've always been told that America doesn't have a class system, whereas Britain is dragged down by class difference. Anyone who knows the truth about this - please enlighten me!

Sarah Palin of course goes overboard in trying to convince the world that she is One Of Us, the mad cow. She's got her ear to the ground and knows what the parents at the soccer game are thinking on a Saturday afternoon. Of course, parents immediately know what the truth is and have a right to get up onto the moral high ground. Sarah namechecked her bloody Hockey Moms and Joe Six Pack, whoever the fuck he is ...

As Geoff said, "does Joe Six Pack have a six pack stomach, or is he a fat slob who sits in front of the telly with a six pack of Budweiser?"

Joe Biden had to claw back some righteousness by mentioning that he was a single parent. God forbid that a politician should give the impression of being cold, unemotional and, worse still, doesn't have a hard luck story to pull the heartstrings ... or, even worse than that, ISN'T A PARENT!

Governor of Alaska Sarah Palin tried to mention how enthusiastic she was about drilling for oil in Alaska every bloody five seconds.  Not that she has any vested interests, of course, but it's important that the US can become self sufficient, so that the US doesn't have to have anything whatsoever to do with any of the other ghastly countries in the world unless they go to war with them.  

Both parties were in full agreement about the fact that same sex couples shouldn't be allowed to marry, although apparently it's okay for them to have civil ceremonies. America, land of the free ... up to a point.

The biggest talking point post-debate, however, has been about Sarah Palin's wink. Er, as it were.


Should somebody who winks on live television be allowed to become Vice President Of The Land Of The Free? Is it a sign that she doesn't have respect for the American Constitution or the American Public? WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF JOHN MCCAIN DROPS DEAD AND SHE BECOMES PRESIDENT?

I MEAN -FUCK!!! THE LEADER OF THE WESTERN WORLD WILL BE SOME BINT WHO WINKS AT THE DROP OF A HAT!!!! WHAT WILL THE EYERAYNIACS IN EYERAN THINK, AS THEY POINT THEIR NUKILLER WEAPONS AT AMERICA, ISRAEL AND EVERY GODDAMN FREE COUNTRY IN THE FREE WORLD? THAT'S ALL IT'S GOING TO TAKE TO GET THEM TO PUSH THE BUTTON ON THOSE GODDAMN NUKILLER WARHEADS AND KERBOOM!!!! IT'S THE END OF HUMANITY!!! ALL BECAUSE SOME PRE MENOPAUSAL BINT COULDN'T STOP WINKING FLIRTATIOUSLY AND PROVING TO THE MOOSLIM MAD MULLAHS THAT WESTERN WOMEN ARE DECADENT, SEX MAD HARRIDANS READY TO LEAD MEN INTO A LIFE OF VICE!!!!

... or perhaps it's just a nervous tic? That's even worse: it would be like having Kevin Godley as Vice President of The USA, or that bloke who used to sing with Brian And Michael about Matchstalk Men And Matchstalk Cats And Dogs.

American Politics confuses me.  The American electoral process confuses me.  I didn't understand all of the business about hanging chads in the election before last.  I don't suppose it really matters if I do.

The only thing that I have found out is that Sarah Palin is a favourite MILF.  This means that a lot of blokes have been doing a lot of winking when thinking about her.

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