I have concluded that Jonathan Ross, Richard Hammond and Bruce Forsyth are all guilty. They are guilty of being pathetic, puerile, pointless, and pitiable. Their presence on TV is in fact pointless, and their needless 'contributions' serve to do no more than offend due to the completely awful standards of 'entertainment' these overpaid people work to.
The Total Wipeout (All New or any other rehashed, repeated bollocks) programme is actually fairly entertaining WITHOUT ANY INPUT from Richard Hammond. But, there is a direct correlation between his input and the extent to which the enjoyment level is reduced. The pathetic dialogue, and forced 5-year-old style humour makes me cringe. He is not needed; clear the studio. Just as YBF was massively improved by Harry Hill's input, it was actually the doing away with a studio aspect that provided equal benefit/improvement.
Jonathan Ross gets away with the most mind-numbing shit, and revels in applause from zombies brought in to make up a studio audience - those who think it's fucking marvellous that Ewan McGregor can ride a motorbike up a tiny ramp and clear three people lying on the floor. The audience laughs at every silly joke and helps to stroke JR's ego. It's not all about you, JR! Shite.
Brucie - do yourself a favour (although it would doing us a much greater one) and retire please. You lost the ability long ago to entertain anyone who has an intellect. The tired format of comments and attempted jokes, feeble innuendos, confused and 'hard done by' looks and awful delivery all combine to say one thing - Get Off! It is no longer 'nice to see you'.
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Saturday, 8 October 2011
8.10.11 Prison Disgrace
An inmate at Durham Prison head butted a prison officer, leaving him covered in blood and in severe pain. The officer grappled with the prisoner and, fearing he had a home-made knife, punched him to restrain and disarm him. The officer was signed off sick after the assault, but was then suspended. Eight months later, he was told by police that he was being charged with assault!
The judge at Durham Crown Court threw the case out. Yet, at an internal disciplinary tribunal the prison office, John Brown, was sacked despite having a clean record.
A word about the inmate: there was evidence that he had threatened to kill an officer and he has 50 previous convictions, 11 of which were for violence.
The Crown Prosecution Service said the prisoner was not charged with assault because "it could not be proved that he had not been acting in self-defence".
In Summary
The CIC at Durham Prison should be ashamed of themselves for acting as their name suggests. It is deplorable that in the UK, yet again, a cheat/liar/thug/criminal is deemed either the victim or worthy of defending, while an honest citizen loses out. Disgusting.
The CPS is quite simply, based on so many examples of behaviour and outcomes, a rabble of useless cunts with no backbone.
[NB: CIC = Cunts In Charge]
...
The judge at Durham Crown Court threw the case out. Yet, at an internal disciplinary tribunal the prison office, John Brown, was sacked despite having a clean record.
A word about the inmate: there was evidence that he had threatened to kill an officer and he has 50 previous convictions, 11 of which were for violence.
The Crown Prosecution Service said the prisoner was not charged with assault because "it could not be proved that he had not been acting in self-defence".
In Summary
The CIC at Durham Prison should be ashamed of themselves for acting as their name suggests. It is deplorable that in the UK, yet again, a cheat/liar/thug/criminal is deemed either the victim or worthy of defending, while an honest citizen loses out. Disgusting.
The CPS is quite simply, based on so many examples of behaviour and outcomes, a rabble of useless cunts with no backbone.
[NB: CIC = Cunts In Charge]
...
8.10.11 Potatoes? You Bet!
One Potato
Two Potato
Three Potato
Four
Five Potato
Six Potato
Seven Potato
More
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Five Potato
Six Potato
Seven Potato
More
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Tuesday, 4 October 2011
4.10.11 X-Factor Excess
There's far too much shite associated with the X-Factor phenomenon, and after a few weeks, we have arrived at the stage where the live performances are about to commence. What a 'journey' it's been to get to the last 16.
The auditions gave rise to some criticism, especially when Ceri was given a fourth go at trying to get through. The reporting of the situation was perhaps best handled by Poppy, 23, from Somerset - a 'Page 3 beauty'. I quote the details published in the Sun newspaper.
Poppy was saddened to see a vulnerable contestant exploited on the X-Factor. She said:
This kind of thing reveals some of mankind's worst traits. In the words of Mark Twain, "A man with a hump-backed uncle mustn't make fun of another man's cross-eyed aunt".
Clearly Poppy was so saddened that she got her tits out! Other forms of sadness were expressed by the contestants themselves, via tears, sniffling and lunacy. It seems that the ordeals of the many hopefuls require that they all cry before they've even been told they're shit. I am so fed up with the blubbering when they have in many cases not even been given the verdict. Is there anyone who's not sick of the following phrases?
This means the world to me
I want this so much
I've worked so hard
I want to prove that I can do this
I'm doing it for my family
I don't want it to end
I am so close now, and I don't want to go home
This is my dream
I've wanted this my whole life (all 16 years of it!)
I was born for this
All I want is to sing
I don't want to go back to [enter here any shit job/company/lifestyle/housing estate]
I want to make my family proud of me
I want to get girls
I want this more than anything
I won't let you down
It's so desperate, and embarrassingly naff for so many people to churn out the same cliches. So, after weeks of rather weak TV, what are we left with? It would seem that despite Louis having a sudden mental breakdown and choosing Goldie as one of his four to go through, she was the one to see sense and help him recover his dignity and judgement by withdrawing from the competition. What was he fucking thinking? Didn't Wagner teach him anything?
The categories pervert the course of entertainment. By this, I mean that we are forced to endure unnecessary performances by those who are in a shit group (more on that in a minute) or who are over twenty something (28 last year, and back to 25 this year). Yes, we have said goodbye to some talented singers (eg. Jade Richards) because there are too many good singers under 25, while some shit bands and oldies get put through for two or three more weeks of exposure. Why is it necessary to make us watch people who cannot and will not win, while better singers go home? Until the last 5, the contest is really all about "In what order will the others leave the show?" I would suggest to all those aged 24 who are thinking of auditioning next year, time it so you apply when you're 26; your slim chances will be improved five-fold.
I saw an article today saying that Jade is the new 'Gamu'. Unfortunately I could not see much of a link. Yes, Gamu lived in Scotland, but she was not a Scot; she was not Scottish, white, fat, and legally entitled to reside in a depressing environment, she was in fact African, black, small and technically an illegal alien. Still, it filled a paragraph in the paper.
The groups were so shit and poorly represented that, yet again, there was manipulation to create something out of nothing from the leftovers of the solo performers. The result of this manipulation was to creating fuck all out of not-a-lot, to the point where Tulisa had to distill even further and create what was hilariously called a 'super group' at the last minute, to make up a fourth act to mentor. The girls look strong and the boys are okay as well, although good voices have departed while Frankie gets to piss about because thirteen-year-old girls might vote for him. He can't sing, and just wants attention. Bands are shit. Louis is, as ever, trying to make the best of it. So, will Gary or Tulisa win?
Finally, is 16 too young to endure the trauma (Luke Lucas crying etc] and should the minimum age be raised to 18? Of course not. Oldies are generally crap, and will never get enough votes. The whole programme is engineered to entertain and interact with the youngsters who buy the music and bother to vote. For every 'worry' there are numerous examples of sixteen-year-olds managing rather well and gaining benefit from the experience. There are lots of eighteen-year-olds who are less mature than their birth certificates suggest they might be. I think the best way to help those with some susceptibility to cry is for the programme makers to finally decide to stop being cunts and give people a 'Yes' or 'No' within a couple of seconds! I am sick of the preamble, following by a statement that "I've made a decision" from a twat who is supposed to make a decision, and then after a couple of mind games and efforts to dehydrate the victim, it's a long wait to get the Yes/No. Stopping all that unnecessary shit is a better development than reviewing the age of contestants.
Heaven help us all. I will not be wasting £1.03 on any 'competition' entries, or money on calls/texts to actually vote. In any event, this competition is not about singing; it is 90% shit / spin / manipulation / stereotyping / marketing / bollocks / hype / controversy. In fact, there's a danger that there's more rationale behind 'Red or Black'! How many weeks will we have to watch Ms Brucknell perform and shake like she's being electrified when being given the result?
Here, Kitty Kitty . . . . . .
...
The auditions gave rise to some criticism, especially when Ceri was given a fourth go at trying to get through. The reporting of the situation was perhaps best handled by Poppy, 23, from Somerset - a 'Page 3 beauty'. I quote the details published in the Sun newspaper.
Poppy was saddened to see a vulnerable contestant exploited on the X-Factor. She said:
This kind of thing reveals some of mankind's worst traits. In the words of Mark Twain, "A man with a hump-backed uncle mustn't make fun of another man's cross-eyed aunt".
Clearly Poppy was so saddened that she got her tits out! Other forms of sadness were expressed by the contestants themselves, via tears, sniffling and lunacy. It seems that the ordeals of the many hopefuls require that they all cry before they've even been told they're shit. I am so fed up with the blubbering when they have in many cases not even been given the verdict. Is there anyone who's not sick of the following phrases?
This means the world to me
I want this so much
I've worked so hard
I want to prove that I can do this
I'm doing it for my family
I don't want it to end
I am so close now, and I don't want to go home
This is my dream
I've wanted this my whole life (all 16 years of it!)
I was born for this
All I want is to sing
I don't want to go back to [enter here any shit job/company/lifestyle/housing estate]
I want to make my family proud of me
I want to get girls
I want this more than anything
I won't let you down
It's so desperate, and embarrassingly naff for so many people to churn out the same cliches. So, after weeks of rather weak TV, what are we left with? It would seem that despite Louis having a sudden mental breakdown and choosing Goldie as one of his four to go through, she was the one to see sense and help him recover his dignity and judgement by withdrawing from the competition. What was he fucking thinking? Didn't Wagner teach him anything?
The categories pervert the course of entertainment. By this, I mean that we are forced to endure unnecessary performances by those who are in a shit group (more on that in a minute) or who are over twenty something (28 last year, and back to 25 this year). Yes, we have said goodbye to some talented singers (eg. Jade Richards) because there are too many good singers under 25, while some shit bands and oldies get put through for two or three more weeks of exposure. Why is it necessary to make us watch people who cannot and will not win, while better singers go home? Until the last 5, the contest is really all about "In what order will the others leave the show?" I would suggest to all those aged 24 who are thinking of auditioning next year, time it so you apply when you're 26; your slim chances will be improved five-fold.
I saw an article today saying that Jade is the new 'Gamu'. Unfortunately I could not see much of a link. Yes, Gamu lived in Scotland, but she was not a Scot; she was not Scottish, white, fat, and legally entitled to reside in a depressing environment, she was in fact African, black, small and technically an illegal alien. Still, it filled a paragraph in the paper.
The groups were so shit and poorly represented that, yet again, there was manipulation to create something out of nothing from the leftovers of the solo performers. The result of this manipulation was to creating fuck all out of not-a-lot, to the point where Tulisa had to distill even further and create what was hilariously called a 'super group' at the last minute, to make up a fourth act to mentor. The girls look strong and the boys are okay as well, although good voices have departed while Frankie gets to piss about because thirteen-year-old girls might vote for him. He can't sing, and just wants attention. Bands are shit. Louis is, as ever, trying to make the best of it. So, will Gary or Tulisa win?
Finally, is 16 too young to endure the trauma (Luke Lucas crying etc] and should the minimum age be raised to 18? Of course not. Oldies are generally crap, and will never get enough votes. The whole programme is engineered to entertain and interact with the youngsters who buy the music and bother to vote. For every 'worry' there are numerous examples of sixteen-year-olds managing rather well and gaining benefit from the experience. There are lots of eighteen-year-olds who are less mature than their birth certificates suggest they might be. I think the best way to help those with some susceptibility to cry is for the programme makers to finally decide to stop being cunts and give people a 'Yes' or 'No' within a couple of seconds! I am sick of the preamble, following by a statement that "I've made a decision" from a twat who is supposed to make a decision, and then after a couple of mind games and efforts to dehydrate the victim, it's a long wait to get the Yes/No. Stopping all that unnecessary shit is a better development than reviewing the age of contestants.
Heaven help us all. I will not be wasting £1.03 on any 'competition' entries, or money on calls/texts to actually vote. In any event, this competition is not about singing; it is 90% shit / spin / manipulation / stereotyping / marketing / bollocks / hype / controversy. In fact, there's a danger that there's more rationale behind 'Red or Black'! How many weeks will we have to watch Ms Brucknell perform and shake like she's being electrified when being given the result?
Here, Kitty Kitty . . . . . .
...
4.10.11 No Offence to Exeter
The Ryanair pilot, just before take-off on the Leeds to Malaga flight, gave a run down of the route he'd be taking. The phrase "going past Exeter" cropped up, and I found myself asking what the fuck use it was to be told we would be "going past Exeter", and concluded (silently) that it was a pointless and uninteresting piece of information I need not log. At however-many-thousand-feet in the air, what may be being "passed" by an aeroplane is as irrelevant as Kerry Katona.
...
...
Sunday, 2 October 2011
2.10.11 Priority Boarding
With some amusement I observed on Friday evening a few 'superior' passengers boarding the Ryanair flight to Leeds from Spain. A gamble on my part meant success for us in getting ahead of other passengers. I had predicted Gate B (actually 13B) and so the five of us made our way to the relevant passport control kiosk. It meant that when the screens showed the gate information, we were ahead of the game and at 13B (!) there were just a dozen or so passengers in front of us. A few passengers were being let through from the 'Priority Boarding' queue.
After just a minute or two, a full half hour before take-off time, the staff began checking boarding passes and the 'normal' passengers were on the move. This was surprising, but a welcome development and signalled an intent by Ryanair to get us on board asap. Just before we (our party was 5 in all) reached the front, a couple of 'Priority Boarding' customers managed to nudge through the queue and get to the front, to claim their right to speedy attention. The couple, a woman and a bald man, duly got checked through, about four spaces ahead of us. After we co-operated with the check regarding baggage size [which meant we were forced to slip the three largest (but small) cases into a metal frame, one after the other, even though they were clearly fucking identical] we proceeded to our advanced waiting point in the tunnel leading to the plane's front door.
So, the square tunnel started to fill up. We were probably about ten yards from the plane's door. After a short while, I looked behind me to see the tunnel filled with passengers; we'd all come to a halt and put baggage on the floor. I then noticed a strange phenomenon. It involved the stilted progress of two cunts (and the rest of their bodies) along the left hand edge of the tunnel. I couldn't work out why these two stern looking, unattractive females were muscling their way along the edge of the queue negotiating bags and people, huffing and puffing. I was on the other side of the six-foot wide tunnel and realised (too late) that there was no emergency requiring them to get past. No, the reason for their efforts to get further forward was the sticker a saw on the printed-out boarding details saying "Priority Boarding".
Now, I thought that Priority Boarding was an expensive extra that allowed staff at the Gate check-in to identify those entitled to be called first for boarding. Nowhere does it seem to say in the features and benefits that late-arriving cunts can hurdle over people and baggage in a packed tunnel to try and play catch-up. These two arses - actually I cannot call them that, and I apologise for my anatomical inconsistency - these two cunts thought it totally reasonable to start flashing their "Priority" sticker and insisting on getting past. As far as I am concerned, after the actual check-in gate, all passengers are equal. Alas, by the time I realised what they were up to, and especially as I was to the right a bit, they were passing.
However, I was so pleased to see a minute later that their progress had been halted just two places ahead of us. Leaning against the left wall, they were trapped. After a few seconds, I solved the mystery. Their flash of the "Priority Boarding" sticker had not worked when they came to the bald bloke. He was himself a Priority Boarding passenger, and so there was no basis for him to yield to the two itchy, niggly, nudging cunts. His sensible approach (ie. not hiring a snow plough to cut through the six or seven people in front of him who were not priority) meant gridlock was observed.
My satisfaction was real but not immense. I rather thought that the cunts should have been stapled to the side wall and slapped by the following 180 passengers as they passed by.
...
After just a minute or two, a full half hour before take-off time, the staff began checking boarding passes and the 'normal' passengers were on the move. This was surprising, but a welcome development and signalled an intent by Ryanair to get us on board asap. Just before we (our party was 5 in all) reached the front, a couple of 'Priority Boarding' customers managed to nudge through the queue and get to the front, to claim their right to speedy attention. The couple, a woman and a bald man, duly got checked through, about four spaces ahead of us. After we co-operated with the check regarding baggage size [which meant we were forced to slip the three largest (but small) cases into a metal frame, one after the other, even though they were clearly fucking identical] we proceeded to our advanced waiting point in the tunnel leading to the plane's front door.
So, the square tunnel started to fill up. We were probably about ten yards from the plane's door. After a short while, I looked behind me to see the tunnel filled with passengers; we'd all come to a halt and put baggage on the floor. I then noticed a strange phenomenon. It involved the stilted progress of two cunts (and the rest of their bodies) along the left hand edge of the tunnel. I couldn't work out why these two stern looking, unattractive females were muscling their way along the edge of the queue negotiating bags and people, huffing and puffing. I was on the other side of the six-foot wide tunnel and realised (too late) that there was no emergency requiring them to get past. No, the reason for their efforts to get further forward was the sticker a saw on the printed-out boarding details saying "Priority Boarding".
Now, I thought that Priority Boarding was an expensive extra that allowed staff at the Gate check-in to identify those entitled to be called first for boarding. Nowhere does it seem to say in the features and benefits that late-arriving cunts can hurdle over people and baggage in a packed tunnel to try and play catch-up. These two arses - actually I cannot call them that, and I apologise for my anatomical inconsistency - these two cunts thought it totally reasonable to start flashing their "Priority" sticker and insisting on getting past. As far as I am concerned, after the actual check-in gate, all passengers are equal. Alas, by the time I realised what they were up to, and especially as I was to the right a bit, they were passing.
However, I was so pleased to see a minute later that their progress had been halted just two places ahead of us. Leaning against the left wall, they were trapped. After a few seconds, I solved the mystery. Their flash of the "Priority Boarding" sticker had not worked when they came to the bald bloke. He was himself a Priority Boarding passenger, and so there was no basis for him to yield to the two itchy, niggly, nudging cunts. His sensible approach (ie. not hiring a snow plough to cut through the six or seven people in front of him who were not priority) meant gridlock was observed.
My satisfaction was real but not immense. I rather thought that the cunts should have been stapled to the side wall and slapped by the following 180 passengers as they passed by.
...
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