| FEBRUARY 2006 | |
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Bullshit News - the best bullshit satire
and fun on the net
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BERNARD GUSSET -
AFTERTHOUGHTS (Updated... as and when)
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IN BRIEF : Ninety eight... ninety nine... one hundred! Coming, ready or not! And the first one to find the £40,000,000 pounds will be the winner and get a big kiss... and £2,000,000 |
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| BERNARD RANTS - True Britons take note | |
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| February 27th 2006 | |
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PIZZA PIAZZA - IT'S GOD TO GO
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 Tom Monaghan - In Pizza we trust |
Glory-fied former pizza boy turned millionaire
Tom Monaghan, founder of Domino's pizza, not content with clogging the
arteries of millions of his customers, now plans to set up a town, situated
on former vegetable farms 90 miles nortwest of Miami in Florida based
on strict Catholic principles. Such is the way of megalomaniacal self
made men who, having made their deep crust (sorry), suddenly want to dictate
their personal philosophy to the already converted in home made principalities
walled in and away from the real world for fear of contamination. It is
the best way to control things I suppose but a bit predictable. It promises to be a fun place with no abortions, no pornography, no contraceptives. So much for the land of the free! Sounds like a town without pity. Sounds like one man's beliefs imposed on willing victims. And in keeping with old style religion, you can bet your life, they will be spreading the hypocrisy thicker than tomato paste on a deep pan, cheese crust, four seasons. No x-rated channels on their cable TV network either. |
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Wall to wall bible prayer and smiling,
laymen of benign appearance spreading the word of god and a lot of schmaltz.
Plus there'll be plenty of Pizza (hallelujah) and 100 foot high oratory.
Praise the Pizza! The town is to be called "Ave Maria". Wouldn't
"Fuck Me" have been more appropriate. It's the name outsiders
will use more than any other and easy to remember. The town it is said,
will hold up to 30,000 people, most of whom will probably religious
zealots and big pizza fans. Well good to know they will all be coralled
in one spot. You can expect blessings such as, "In nomine Patris,
et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, do you want fries with that, go large
for 50 cents more. We deliver. Amen."
I wonder, will it have a weekly burning at the stake, a ducking stool and a team of inquisitors to weed out the undesireables. How will Horatio Caine get on with the local elders when he investigates the mutilation of a disbeliever in CSI Miami. Yes I know it's fictional but suspend your serious side for a moment. Perhaps there will be an honor system. All residents must wear the Elmer Fud baseball hat when out. Their shirts will carry honors on their breast pockets. One Virgin Mary for good, two if your very good, three if you're extrememly worthy and pray a lot, four if you're good and convert a sinner and five if you blow the gaff on a non believer who gets burned at the stake. As you move up the hierarchy, this changes to first one crusifix (i.e. equal to five Virgin Marys etc.)and so on. So just how will people spend their days? Sex is out, movies will be tame, food will be pizza. Well there's always prayer in the all new oratory (No doubt Cherie Blair will be at the opening in her lace mantilla. For her they'll have a wafer the shape and size of a Hot Pocket which she'll consume sideways). There'll be a full days order of service, with prayer that God, (that's a catholic God mind you, not a Jewish one or Muslim one) god will smite down all enemies, the wrong doers and those who fornicate (which of course you must do if you're going to procreate, only as long as you don't enjoy and use it as recreation, it's fine) Then there's all that fun to be had hissing through gritted teeth at unmarried mothers and children who innocently let others see their pee pees, accidentally at school. Damning them for all time works a treat and is a great boost to original sin. Touching of course will be strictly forbidden unless accompanied by at least three priests, a matron aunt in black weeds, a bottle of holy water and a picture of Mel Gibson. Of course molestation by the clergy will be allowed to continue as usual. And hell... oops sorry, heck, you can always pop out for a pizza and nice cold glass of buttermilk (beer will be banned no doubt.'tis the devils brew!) Well it all sounds peachey to me. Frankly though, I'd rather spend a wet weekend in Blackpool and broke, than an hour in the Florida sunshine with this lot. A word of advice to the planners. Build a two lane highway entering the town... and a four lane highway exiting the town, so that those who want to, can leave in a hurry. |
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| February 27th 2006 | |
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GIVE 16yr OLDS THE VOTE! WHAT...?
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The Power Inquiry, chaired by Baroness Helena Kennedy are using emotive phrases like Politics in Danger of Meltdown! - to push for radical changes to the politics of this country? This is just the same hyped fear mongering they used over Iraq to get public opinion on their side. Are they suggesting then that democracy is in danger? Well adjustments are a good idea and politics can awlways be improved in this land but giving 16 year olds the vote? Come on mate! What are these loonies thinking? Of all the 16 year olds, how many of them will have a true sense of what is right and what is wrong rather than an idealistic vision based on what they want, rather than what we need. This would be as measured a judgement as would be a decision to put handles on the inside of cups to stop them being broken. |
| The government is talking of
raising the age limit on the purchase of cigarettes. How then can they
even think of lowering the age on something much more dangerous. Giving
16 year olds the vote is like putting a loaded gun in the hands of a child.
If however, they do lower the voting age - also the age at which they
can become an MP - they should then consider doing something about the
spiralling motor insurance rates. Reduce the bias and agree that teenagers
are more responsible than we give them credit for. Can you see insurance
companies going for that based on historical records. Surely then they
should also lower the age at which teenagers can drive too... to 16. In
which case, the age of consensual homosexuality should also be lowered
to 16, with the heterosexual age limit for sexual intercourse being lowered
to say 14. The drinking age should then be lowered to allow 16 year old
sixth formers to pop down the pub. Alter too the age limits on adult and
horror films. A younger age group must therefore be less affected than
we once thought they would be by violent or sexually explicit films. No you have to ask, what half baked group of politically correct lefty loonies thought up the idea to lower the voting age. It can only be a group that would see themselves as the main beneficiaries of such a change. A body that would welcome the idealistic voting from a vast body of ill informed, emotional, hormonal immature adults. The New (old) Labour Party. Well who else! |
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| February 27th 2006 | |
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WHAM BAM... EVENIN' ALL
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 Careless snifters - in the car. |
Lantern jawed warbler George Michael was taken into custody last night when discovered, out of his box and slumped over the wheel of his Morris Minor at Hyde Park Corner. The police arrested him for being incapable of driving, then miraculously, un-arrested him after he'd been examined by a police surgeon. So presumeably he wasn't out of his skull on booze or drugs, just grabbing a nap perhaps. But no, wait. Mmmm I see. So he was slumped over the wheel when a member of the public called the police but by the time he got to the cop shop, he was fine. Mmmm. So... Just a matter of the drugs then? No wait, I'm confused. So he was slumped... slumped, yes slumped... Curious. Why would a completely sober detoxified driver be slumped over the wheel of his car? The first question we have to ask is, was the seat pushed way back and was there another person in the car with Michael, say... a hunky guy in a cop uniform for example. That could explain why he was "Slumped" over the wheel. It might have looked like he was "Slumped" from a distance. Particularly if he was sitting in said person's lap. |
| However if that wasn't the case,
and he was alone, was he slumped over his wheel asleep? Logical. You're
a famous, easily recogniseable rock star and suddenly, you feel very tired.
The ideal place to get a quiet kip is.... behind the wheel of your car
at Hyde Park Corner where hardly anyone would notice you "Slumped"
over the wheel of your car. Of course. Simple! Why, that has to be it.
And therefore logically the police making the wrong assumption arrest
you then realising what silly boys they've been, de-arrest you. Makes
sense. Then it's just a matter of the class C drugs they found in Michael's
possession? What to do then. Un-de-arrest him then presumeably. Well you'd expect them to arrest him for that. Anyway, it's a jolly good start to Michael's retirement from public view, a much more behind the scenes affair planned for his future life. Should work a treat on that basis George. The trouble with addiction though George, it's very hard to break and for someone used to being George Michael, it's going to be very difficult to turn into Joe Soap! Even if the press and the fans were to let that be the case... which they wont luv! Still, good luck with it! |
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| February 23rd 2006 | |
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SUCH IS THE END OF EMPIRE
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 "A toast to all you commoners... Up yours!" |
My Prviate thoughts, just for me... and a few of my "yes" people. Dear JournalTuesday (or thereabouts) : I rose early this matins, 10am at least. Well I needed an early start and for another thing the bloody butler tripped in the corridor and scattered my tea things for a yard or two. It seems it woke the whole of Clarence House, as many others were up then too, though god knows who they were. Gave the chap a round thrashing for five or ten minutes which got the old blood pumping. Popped over to Camilla's room to see if she was up for it. Old horse face was already about in her chambers and smoking one of those ghastly cigrette things. Still, we played hide the polo mallet for a while until breathless, we collapsed on the persian carpet. That'll need dry cleaning. Took a peek out of the window whilst shaving. Would you believe it, that bloody Nicholas Witchell was outside the gates doing a piece to camera. I hate him. He's so... ginger! That probably means one of two things. Either I've gaffed again or I've got to meet some thieveing brown faced dictator from Bogo Bogo land or one of the Commonwealth countries, which means I'll actually have to touch his hand. Ugh! It's bad enough with common people. |
| Just how will I get through the day. I often wish I'd not been born of royal blood. The burden is so heavy at times. I wonder just how mummy copes, though she manages to just switch it on and orf! It explains why daddy is such a bastard I suppose. It would be nice to be just an ordinary member of society. Mr No-One living in a small average estate with half this number of servants and just a few hundred acres. I wouldn't need much, just enough money to get by on. Enough to run the jet and half a dozen cars. Spend my winters quietly in Gstaad or St Moritz, my summers in a small 50 roomed Palazzo in Tuscany or on the French Riviera in some tiny little chateau just outside Grasse with just one or two Ferrari's. And a skelton staff of say ten. Slumming it maybe but peace of mind. Evenings spent quietly, driving myself to Monaco for some games of chance, Chemin de Fer in the Salon Privee at the Casino there and afterwards, a light supper of lobster and Cristal at the hotel De Paris.... peasant food. Aah but that is not to be. Just where is that fucking butler with my brekkers! If he takes any longer I'm going to Camillas rooms and he can bloody well work it out for himself... just before I fire the bastard! P.S. Remember to say good morning to the plants in the conservatory. The orchid was a bit grumpy when I forgot yesterday, bloody green leaved prima donna. | |
| February 22nd 2006 | |
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BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU
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 Jesus wants you for... any information you can give us on your neighbour! |
In fact it wants to watch all of us and it
wants to use Google
and the other search engines to do it for them. As if things weren't sinister enough with the right wing, religious underbelly of US politics today, the government have been trying to force Google, the search engine leaders, to divulge its search engine data including search criteria which in turn will give them access to personal web data on as many as three million individuals (to start with) on the pretext that it will help them fight terrorism and pornography. However, good on Google for resisting where others have capitulated. Long may they do so. So what's the problem with pornography - apart from the obvious deviant areas of sexual expression - what's the deal? Even George Bush has had a fuck from time to time. He has two party loving daughters which prove it. George may even have done it sober once or twice. Pornography may be frowned upon by the religious right, the bible bashers and evangelist preachers - from the back seats of their limos - though they clearly welcome death, destruction and torture in the name of their God. Strange that eh? The word hypocrisy leaps to mind. Sex is the most primeval of instincts in all creatures and is a biological foundation stone. To reproduce is the paramount instinct in all creatures. Is there any wonder then, that humans are drawn to it in all its forms. In humans it has also become recreational - well in most countries - as much pleasure can be derived from it. So one man's perversion is another man's or woman's turn on. That's how it goes. Is that wrong? Apparently! |
| The process of procreation is
pornographic and stimulating not to say pleasurable, so one can hardly
avoid it. The issue here seems to be whether or not one enjoyed it. If
you enjoyed it, it was either disgusting of you or plain pornography.
If you didn't it was either instinctive conjoining, duty, or rape. If
you don't enjoy sex, you need a psychologist to help you get over it.
If you do enjoy it, keep it to yourself lest you burn in hell! If you
watched others doing it, you must be turned on by it or perverse to want
to. If they watched you doing it, you're either an exhibitionist or sick
to want to let anyone watch you doing it. If you're a soldier killing
and maiming and wiping out in the name of the lord or the C in C, that's
alright. So there's collateral damage along the way. It's part of god's
plan, we are told. Actually, what plan is that? An interesting plan that
allows innocent children to be butchered and maimed along the way. Please
tell me what part of the great plan that is 'cos I don't get it! And please
explain why pornography is therefore so wrong. If looking at images of
sex is pornography, what the hell is looking at news images of butchered
children and innocent people? In fact, what the US government want... that is the government of the land of the brave and home of the free, the government who so quickly tell us that freedom in the west is everything... is to spy on those of us who are free so that they can stop us doing anything in particular that they don't like us doing, thereby curtailing freedom and imposing on us - by a small number of evangelical politicians that is - imposing on us, their will. Terrorism pornography and/or child pornography are the levers, the rest comes after and gets about as sinister as was the apalling McCarthy era. It is a blatant major leap in controlling the people and will at the least result in censorship of the internet. Now hang on. Doesn't that amount to dictatorship? Just the thing they were trying to convince us was wrong with Iraq. Now with the ability to whip up public fears over terrorism, they know that the public will swallow anything with the right spin. Terrify the people first with lurid tales and unfounded fears. Then they'll accept anything the government says is in their interests. There's something rotten in the state of Denmark. The US isn't looking too healthy either as its current secretive government grows more sinister by the hour! |
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| February 20th 2006 | |
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LOCK UP THE HENS? Not clucking likely!
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 "Clara, stop ranting on about the government running around like headless chickens over the bird flu thing. You're making me nervous." |
It seems to be a case of "Over my dead
body!" The British Veterinary Association have said of bird flu the
deadly H5NI strain; A one-off dead bird isn't necessarily something to
worry about... Really?! The official UK line from the Health Minister Ben Bradshaw is that there is no reason to panic. I see. Right! The time to do that therefore is when? When bird flu is here and out of control? God forbid that we should panic and take preventative measures like the French and the Dutch who are putting their birds inside. But as the British farmers union have said, that would be a "...massive over-reaction." So then, presumeably, if we do get hit by bird flu and it rises to epidemic proportions as a result of no one doing anything to stop it in the first instant, and bird farmers have to cull their flocks, they will not be seeking huge compensation payouts which of course would be a... a massive over-reaction? Right? Yes what a terrible thing to do to over-react about preventing the poultry industry from taking measures before the event. |
| Ho, ho, no need for that, just
throw another Range Rover on the barbie, top up the green wellies with
surplus EU champagne, bully off to the drag hunt for a spot of R&R
and wait for it all to happen... we presume. "Don't worry, there'll
be another EU subsidy along any time soon. It's funny. There's nothing
for a month or two, then suddenly, three come along together." You have to wonder why something like the last devastating foot and mouth epidemic and the mad cow debacle didn't reduce British farms to deserted scrublands. Probably because unlike any other business venture, there are funds and schemes and subsidies a-plenty to bail out farmers and keep them in 4x4s until the next plague descends on them. For once, it would be sensible after so many warnings to be prepared for the worst. Or does that mean farmers putting their hands in their own pockets first. Somebody please tell me. In other words, why do anything when we'll get compensated anyway. It's either a chicken and egg situation or a case of a bird in the hand. And for the British public, well we'll be up shit creek without a paddle paying more for imported chicken when it all goes belly pork up! |
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| February 19th 2006 | |
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ONE A PENNY, TWO A PENNY, I.D. CARDS
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 Spot the phony! |
'Come and get, get your lovely ID cards
here, fresh today, just off the presses. Going cheap!!!' That's just about how it will go. Back street forgers will have them up and running faster than it takes a government think tank to spend millions designing them. The ingenious Chinese will have them copied and on the black market before the rest of us have seen the design. It's all a racket,a way for Gordon Brown to claw yet more revenue from a nation already taxed to the hilt. A necessary burden on the population as Gordon sees it, to replenish the nations coffers straining under the weight of his ambitions for the third world, and money already spent beyond his means - something he believes the rest of us should be careful to avoid. Well we would....if we had more money in our pockets Gordon, but you keep taking it off us and spending it luv. |
| Do you really think this ID card
will cut down the risk of terrorism? Not a hope. The forgeries
will pop up like magic mushrooms and those who they are supposed to catch
will carry immaculate replicas complete with forged biometric data and
carry on as normal. Why? Because ID cards will not be as well scrutinised
as are passports, not without more expensive technology which people will
be reluctant to install - as happened in America when they tried to introduce
explosive detecting equipment in airports. Nobody wanted to spend the
money. Plus many people who are not used to having to prove who they are
will forget to take their cards with them so it's either a case of "present
your card at a police station within three days" in which case terrorists
will simply vanish, or on-the-spot fines, yet another tax on the people.
No doubt that one has already been factored in for a later date. Then there will be more fines for not getting them on time, having the wrong sort or some other means of taxing the nation through the ID card. Just watch how many other ways of raising money they come up with connected to ID cards once they're on the statute books. No it's about tax, not security. It's a money making scheme to bail the Chancellor out of his current fiscal mess. If it was about security, it would be more complex. It would need to be. It's bunkum, hogwash, crap on a grand scale and wide open to corruption, fraud and forgery. It just won't work. Most of us know it but the government are hoping to frighten the population enough to bring it in because they need it and they need it in place before Brown's fiscal pack of cards crumbles. When they caught Ramzi Ahmed Yousef the supposed mastermind behind the World Trade Centre Bombing he had a dozen or so forged ID cards. What good were ID cards then. They caught him thanks to a tip off and a two mill' reward! |
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| February 18th 2006 | |
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YOU WON'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M PACKIN' HEAT
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 Stand back, I might explode! |
Lou
Ferrigno, the giant of 70's TV
Incredible Hulk fame, has just become a reserve deputy sheriff in
Los Angeles. God, wouldn't we all like to be there when he pulls up some stroppy dude weilding a Glock or Smith and Wesson and says, "You wont like me when I'm angry!" He's going to do it, you just know it's going to happen. In fact I think it was Bill Bixby - the normal half of the Hulk - who said it but I'll bet he's used it himself. It's almost worth whipping the guy into a strop to see if he will. Poor bugger must be sick of hearing it you'd think. But then it was his 15 minutes of fame, so why not. The other thing I'd like to see is Lee Majors - The Six Million Dollar Man, We can rebuild him, at his son's sports day in the father's race. The starting gun goes off and all the other dads hurtle off, meanwhile Lee is doing a balletic slow motion sprint. Still on the subject of 70s TV. Lynda Carter, Wonder Woman's husband says "Hey c'mon honey change, we're going to be late." Lynda says, "Give me a second." does her spin and Szbam! She's changed in one second flat. Hubby says, "What took you so long?" |
| There's one other thing I'd like to see - Arnold Schwarzenegger acting. I guess that's too much to hope for, except when he's being a politician. I see 70's and 80's heartthrob David Hasselhoff is in a movie called Click seems the old guy still has it! He's just Gorgeous! But don't take my word for it... take his! By the way, I don't really think he's gorgeous, I'm not that sort of guy! | |
| February 13th 2006 | |
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GOOD GRIEF!
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 "Sexual what...?!" |
You have to wonder at the repressed nature of some Americans when you hear of a six year old boy being suspended from school in Brockton Massachusetts for sexual harrassment. The boy allegedly stuck two fingers inside a classmate's waistband apparently after the girl had 'touched' him. Just what messages are adults sending to kids when they overreact like this? What will be his understanding of this reprimand? What will it say to him about affection or being physically close? Kids should be able to touch each other without fear of reprimand particularly when they are young. They should be able to hold hands (as they used to in the playgrounds in my day) and they should, above all, be able to hug each other without fear of embarrassment or some prim spinster or religious nut screaming hell and damnation at them. It's the only way they can learn to love, to appreciate each other and be human. Without that you end up with the coldness of isolation which can only lead to more complex problems in later life. You only have to look at the areas of the world where such repression exists to see what can happen. |
| February 13th 2006 | |
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NOT ON MY FACE...!
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 Once upon a time, Rrrooowwrr! |
It seems incredible that I would say this but "I
wouldn't want Brigitte Bardot sitting on my face!" Well she is
71 and there are limitations. Actually, I wouldn't want me sitting on
my face. People do go off no matter how stunning they were and Brigitte
was stunning... and so was I. |
| February 13th 2006 | |
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AND NOW FOR THE WEIRD STUFF
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It could only happen in America. We thought thieves who stole a Henry Moore Bronze statue had to be a bit off the wall as the thing weighed over a ton. But in Memphis, Tennessee, (home of Elvis) thieves stole an entire rock climbing wall weighing in at 2700 kilos. Just imagine the logistics of that! First of all, it's not a one man job. One guy in a hooped sweater and face mask isn't going to carry this off. It's going to take a crew of guys and frankly I reckon that the hooped sweaters and masks en masse will give them away sooner or later. Secondly, it's going to require a hell of a big swag bag. The letters themselves will be at least six feet tall not to mention the size of the bag - though you'd have to know what you were looking for before it dawned on you what was happening. "Say Doris, does that say SWAG?" I mean, it's not the sort of thing that happens on a day to day basis. Also, how do you fence a thing like a climbing wall. Surely you don't just hawk it round bars, "Psst! Say buddy, want to buy a climbing wall going cheap? We can deliver." And who came up with the idea? "Look Chuck I've got this great idea. Let's nick that climbing wall. The good news is that it was recovered though what the thieves thought they would do with it is mystifying. |
| February 11th 2006 | |
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PROMISCUOUS TEENAGE TONGUE HOCKEY CONDEMNED
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 "Are you blowing... ...you should be sucking" |
"Intimate kissing of many different
partners can quadruple a teenager's risk of meningitis, a study has found."(BBC)
Yeah, well that's always been the case. This is nothing new. However,
what this needs is a pamphlet to make teenagers aware, to curb their ardour,
to steady their buffs, to cool their lust. At the same time it could cover
the evils of smoking and drinking and bad behaviour, too many burgers,
farting in public, yawing near pigeons, the scourge of flared trousers.
The title of the pamphlet should be something like... "For Teenagers - More Advice You Can Ignore". Do they really think they'll slow the march of ubiquitous teen hormones by telling them that there is a higher risk of Meningitis from kissing? Clearly they do. But this is all based on serious research. By 'multiple partners' they mean seven plus a month. In other words, should a young lady find herself the mascot of a seven aside football team, she should stop when she gets to number six. Cut out the goalie perhaps. Or should a guy find himself in a similar situation he should... well he should be careful he doesn't drop the soap in the communal shower... if it's that kind of team. If that isn't an issue and right up his street, he should restrict himself to the first half dozen and keep one as spare. This will of course open up a whole new commercial area. |
| " Do you play tongue
hockey 'Big Time'? Do you kiss more than seven people a month? Is your
tongue wrapped around seven sets of tonsils between pay cheques. If the
answer is yes, then you need 'Head Condoms'. Yes Head Condoms fit completely
over your head with a special mouth section that fits comfortably into
the mouth and provides a spacious accessible area for invasive third party
tongues. They come in three super flavours. For him they come in perfect
peach, sexy strawberry and ready salted, for her they come in chilled
beer, smooth chocolate and familiar anchovy. Head Condoms are specially
lubricated for your kissing pleasure. Get them where you see the entwined
tongue logo or your nearest street corner drug dealer."Then
of course there would be oral disinfectants, nasal washes (as this is
where the viruses lodge) Tongue protectors - in various colours. To avoid the hazards of this latest health risk we might apply a whole new line of thinking on the kissing thing though. What about nuzzling instead? Low health risk, and a big turn on if done right. As is the tongue in the ear. Sales of cotton buds would soar (note to self: take up share option in Johnson & Johnson). Maybe the answer would be to stand around necking, just kissing necks sort of thing whilst feeling up the other party's genitalia. This would take the mind off the loss of the tongue wrestling and focus the mind in a Zen kind of way. It would also give you a good stiffy and sticky fingers. Sure, all this could really catch on. Perhaps we could revert to a more primitive behaviour. For example, dogs smell each others butts. Maybe we could try that for a while, though sitting at the back of a cinema doing it might cause certain complications and necessitate some pre-composed snappy excuses for when you are ejected from the auditorium. "Look we were just saying hello, alright?". Maybe not. I guess we're just going to have to live dangerously in that case. I can't see any teenager being warned off kissing because some old gob has said it's dangerous. It's no more dangerous than it ever was. So grab it now kids and lovers whilst you can, 'cos when you get older, people start going 'Bleaaagh! Gross' when they see you doing it. Just that thought is a deterrent in itself. There's a commercial on British TV that shows an older couple playing tongue hockey. Its a commercial for denture fixing compound. That's put me off the idea for ever. Good Luck! |
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| February 11th 2006 | |
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PALAEONTOLOGY 101
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 "Say Mick, what say we do a tour again?" "Yeah Keif, I need the money" |
It's an interesting time for palaeontologists. The Stones are touring and the word is that Eric, Ginge and Jack are about to reform Cream for another set of shows. But let's be frank, these guys are the creme de la tomato soup of rock and make as good music now as they ever did. A while back there were nauseating little journo' hacks just out of short pants saying "When are guys like these going to hang up their wawa pedals?" Well hopefully never. That's like saying, "Hey Muddy, aren't you a bit old for the blues?" To which the answer would undoubtedly be something involving a muther and sexual travel. It just goes to show that quality will out as can be witnessed at this years Grammy awards with U2 pulling in the plaudits for their album 'How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb!' (by the way, how do you do that?) sweeping the board with five awards including best album. Okay so in the past, I've had a go at Bono on Bullshit News but then he is a bit of a caricature of himself with the big hair and the perma-shades and an ego the size of an iceberg [see the id metaphor] and one of them calls himself Edge - presumably because he's tense and bad tempered. But all in all, they are a quality band still going after 30 years. |
| I'd personally like to see the
reformation of many more old bands and see what they come up with. I'm
not talking about bands like The Dave Clark Five per se, for whom the
song Glad All Over, a song about feeling glad all over has new meanings
which light up the eyes of Gladys Puckle who mans the salad bar. No, what
I mean is, wouldn't it be great to see bands like Zeppelin and Sabbath
and The Kinks get it on again. Albeit that some bands would need new blood
to replace those lost to time and the needle - of which Eric Clapton was
thankfully nearly but not actually one. It just shows how much talent
was lost to drugs. That must make us take note. It won't but it should. It would be great, for example, to do a part reform of The Beatles substituting John and George with their offspring Julian Lennon and Dhani Harrison. That would in some respects preserve the integrity of the past, perhaps Paul McCartney's musical son could be involved there too - Stella could whip up Camel & Llama sandwiches for them during the session. They are all talented and Julian sounds so like his dad - which I guess must irk him some at times - however! Crosby, Stills and Nash (& Young) still get together. Dave Crosby was one of those who nearly finished himself off but thankfully pulled back from the brink. It would be fun to see The Osmonds reform for some sort of schmaltzy show, the Jacksons too complete with as many of the old bits of Michael that surgery hasn't destroyed. The Brotherhood of Man could.... forget it. Bob Dylan could reform himself and start writing meaningful protest songs like "I just can't get good rates on my millions". Aah, life would be great! |
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| February 8th 2006 | |
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Oooh THE EFFORT, THE STRAIN, THE TASTE!
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 Sainsbury's welcomes careful drivers |
They've just developed - they being The Tea
Research Association in India - a biscuit that has the taste of a cup
of tea with a biscuit dunked in it. What a cracking idea. It'll save me
getting my butler to do it. All that effort of having to say "Perkins,
just dunk my Rich Tea for me will you... NOT TOO SOGGY! That's it."
At last I can be the true couch potato. Of course potatoes are now very
easy to do. For a quick tasty mashed potato, you just pop down to your
local supermarket, buy their ready made, heat and serve. What could be
simpler. It was such a complicated thing, peeling, boiling then mashing.
What I really like is a good Yorkshire pud. Here's a simple recipe for the best Yorkshire pud money can buy. Pop your coat on and grab your car keys. When you've done that, get into your off-road Mercedes 4x4 - which you use for shopping and coffee mornings and taking the kids to the door of their school - and start it (allow to idle for a few seconds, tune radio, dial number on mobile phone for needless conversation with Tracy at her nail boutique). Then drive to your local supermarket - ignoring other drivers and nearly causing half a dozen accidents because you can't yet judge the size of your vehicle. |
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When you reach the supermarket, take care to park in
the disabled bay even though you're not disabled. This will save you
time and annoy a satisfying number of people. Stride purposefully into
the supermarket brushing heavily past some old-aged pensioner so that
they nearly fall over. Do a contrived flick of your long Nicky Clarke
hair and pretend you didn't notice. Grab a basket from one of the checkout
lines - as the supermarket will not have got around to piling them at
the door yet. Go to the frozen section and look for the frozen Yorkshire
puddings. If there's only one bag left make sure you grab it first before
that overburdened woman with a full trolley carrying a baby and with
two other children screaming at the tops of their lungs. Excellent.
Head for the check out. |
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| February 6th 2006 | |
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STONED AT THE SUPERBOWL
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The Rolling
Stones were the big half time act at Super
Bowl XL in Detroit this year. Mick Jagger, wearing his customary frock,
took the runway high on a cocktail of cod liver oil pills and tonic wine.
Crowds thrilled as the ageing rocker manoevered his zimmer frame along
the catwalk stage, helped by a nurse in a white uniform. Meanwhile Keith Richards managed not to entangle himself in his oxygen lead and despite advanced emphysema made a good showing, hammering out the lead notes to 'Jumping Jack Flash', which was more of a Crawling Jack Fizzle. Ronnie Wood looked like he'd put on weight, at least an ounce, possibly two though it didn't stop him getting lodged in a knot hole on the stage. As for Charlie Watts, well it's true he's operating at a lower wattage these days but he still managed to bang out some rhythms and was continent at all times. |
| Of course, the organisers, ABC,
were understandably nervous having the Stones there and were on their
guard with a 5 second delay button for the language used in their lyrics.
They didn't want another incident like the one where Janet Jackson's boob
accidentally fell out of her blouse - with a little help from Justin Timberlake
- and brought America to a grinding halt as no one had ever seen a breast
before particularly in the deep south,... where they marry their sisters.
So obviously it made sense to sensor the lyrics of Rough Justice "...One
time you were my baby chicken, Now you've grown into a fox: And once upon
a time I was your little rooster, Am I just one of your cocks..."(yuh
know, like the hen) and Start Me Up "You, you, you make a grown man
cry You, you make a dead man come..." Clearly there are massive problems over the ambiguities of the English language and you could get into real trouble there if you went into a cafe and asked for a Cunt Sandwich with pubic hair and semen sauce. It'd take them forever to decide whether or not there was such a dish, particularly if the request was delievered with a flawless British accent! |
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| February 5th 2006 | |
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STELLA.... STELLA!
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 Stella McCartney - and friend |
Stella
McCartney is in a furore over a pub - The Grand Union Pub in West
London - selling Camel steaks and Zebra chops (large plate required).
The vegetarian daughter of a Beatle,
Paul McCartney,
Macca (the commercial one) was hot under her designer collar at the idea
that anyone should even want to eat Camel. Also available was Llama -
the overgrown goat not the Dalai.
"It's not cool to eat Camel...." said Stella. "If you must
eat meat, why not try a delicious fricassee of Heather. It's a simple
dish to prepare. You take one Heather
Mills McCartney, cut it's throat and rip off it's other leg. Gut it
and dispose of the entrails, bone it - dad usually does that bit - then
cook in a large oven for about a week. remove from the oven, dice, place
in bucket then flush down lav. Pop out to your nearest health food store,
buy some Tofu,
come home a make a tasteless boring veggie burger." Hey Stella, what about beheading anyone who is seen eating Camel or Llama or Zebra. Now there's an idea that could catch on and one that's currently in vogue. |
| February 5th 2006 | |
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CHARLIE'S CHOPPER WONT FUNCTION!
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 Dookie the moodie little chopper |
It was announced this week that Prince Charles
couldn't attend a function because it was too cold to use his helicopter.
Yes, well you get that with helicopters. The army have had a problem with
that for years, avoiding war on cold days or taking other measures for
which they are highly trained etc. "Look chaps, there's a bit of
a nip in the air today. Best not risk the old chopper... what? If we hang
on there's a number 14 bus which will pass right by the insurgents. We
can just pop off at the stop before, hail a cab and attack. Whaddyou think?
After brekkers, yes?""Wot abaht takin' a tank sir.?" "Mmmm,
don't think so sergeant. It's a bit muddy out there and there are one
or two pot holes... could pose a problem." "I've got a conker
sir, it's a sixty eighter." "Bravo Smith. Let's hang on to that
possibility. Jenkins, 'you still got that catapult of yours?" "Yessir!"
"Excellent, that'll make those suicide chappies think twice. Right
then, brekky poo then orf we jolly well go." |
| Meanwhile Charles wants to revive
interest in mutton. Mutton
is - effectively - old sheep or old lamb, lamb that has grown up a bit,
y'know, been to school, passed through college, out of short pants and
into a frock and getting pissed in bars at weekends, a little bit past
it, know wot I mean nudge nudge. It's impossible at this point to avoid
mentioning Camilla in the whole mutton, lamb thing. Yeah it's too obvious,
mutton dressed as lamb blah blah. But you just have to do it. Let's face
it, he's handed us a gift, old Charlie boy. I mean what a gift for the
wags of Wapping. Not that I'm saying Camilla is mutton dressed as lamb
though she does have the face of a well aged Marino - and the hair to
go with it. I mean when she laughs she's more the winner of the 3.30 at
Fontwell. Maybe its just Charles expressing honest interests, wanting
to be hung for a sheep as opposed to lamb. Sorry. Didn't his advisors
point out these rather obvious routes to ridicule? Clearly not. Does it
take an advisor to do that? It shouldn't. It just goes to show how naive
Chas' still is. Or that he has no concept just what the will say given
the straight feed. Or that he has no sense of humour or the ability to
ad lib and quip except for.... "That Nicholas
Witchell, I hate him...." |
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| February 5th 2006 | |
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FRESH AS THE MOMENT WHEN THE POD WENT POP!
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 iPod, uPod, wePod |
Incredible but true. Some clown
from Louisiana is trying to sue Apple for damaged hearing as the result
of using his iPod.
Good one Dufus. What, you didn't yet work out how to turn the volume down?!
What are you, thick as a bag of hammers? Sounds like it, though I don't
guess you hear that well in the first place. Sounds like a get rich quick
scheme. Any judge who would agree with you would have to be pretty dumb
too. Sure an iPod could deafen you if used by a stupid dumb cretin with
no ability to work out when the music was too loud. But then you could
deafen yourself by sticking you head under the hood of your car and revving
the engine or putting your ear to a household drill when it's hammering
through dry wall. Of course you'd have to be pretty thick to do that but
hey, we're having a little draw here and guessing that you're not the
smartest Nobel prize winner at the symposium. |
| February 3rd 2006 | |
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SEX IS OFF! SPAGHETTI IS ON!
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 Contraception for the eyes Silvio naked! |
The news that Silvio Berlusconi - who doesn't die his hair - is to abstain from sex until the Italians have had their election would come as little surprise to the Chinese, "Surely an election is essential when indulging in sex." However it threw me right off my stride. Until that moment I had never pictured the robust little Italian Premier in anything less than a dark suit. Now I am stuck with the mental image of Il Pomadoro naked, doing the Mussolini shuffle with some ravishing raven haired temptress... or even his wife. Let's face it the guy isn't Brad Pitt. He isn't even Ken Barlow He's more your slimmed down John Prescott, only more articulate.... and better dressed, and more cultured and.... you know what, he's nothing like John Precott either. However, he doesn't come across - to me at least - as a sexual athelete which is as it should be. a Keen observer perhaps or a student of the pornographic arts perhaps but Conan the Horny, I think not. That having been said, he is rich. He's got boodles of money and that of course makes him attractive to women who otherwise would stand at a distance saying things like, "...you've got to be kidding... with that?" |
| Now I can see this guy dressed
in loose fitting pants with just a vest and a fag hanging from his bottom
lip, sitting on a stool sipping red wine in a shaded bar in a Sicilian
town like Corleone. I just don't want to picture him in the nip, his pimpled
Italian
butt, all hairy rising and falling with the rhythm of a Texas nodding
donkey. That body fluids would come from him, could come from him just
makes me want to run for the nearest bucket. It makes you realise that...
politicians screw. (Well they've been doing it to the people I guess so
why not at home) But the fact is I don't want to know they do it. I just
don't want to go to bed, turn the light off and be stuck with a mental
image of Anne Widecombe in fragrente. I don't want the nightmare of John
Prescott's groin negotiating his wife's hairdo for a blowjob. The idea
that Tony and Cherie put it together is too appalling to think of and
the notion that Gordon Brown didn't use artificial insemination to get
his wife pregnant.... again.... just makes me want to put my fingers in
my ears and mouth incoherent nonsense to numb the pain. So please, politicians
everywhere, if you're going to do anything involving sex... please do
it in private and leave those of us who aren't getting any to our more
exciting fantasies... please! |
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