Best Before- Christmas Ennui

This year's christmas special has come early. To celebrate there will be no long winded slating of everything that's hateful about the season and how we've nothing to celebrate, or how I want to stab everyone to death involved with the M&S Christmas adverts, how it comes earlier every year, how totally and how it all, including the shops playing carols 5 weeks early leaves me with a feeling of ennui, so I'll leave you with a repeat of Some Mother Do 'Ave 'em I saw a few years ago. There you go. If that ain't goodwill I don't  know what is. 




 

ABI BLUR FLASHFORWARD M&S NEW MOON WORLD STILL GOING MAD!?

The headlines today. Abi Titmus to play Lady Macbeth? Blur being voted best live band at UK festival awards? Flashforward still hasn't been cancelled? New Moon? M and S Christmas? Yep, it's all happening. Best Before gives it to you straight. Accept no rip off's from Charlie Brooker or anyone else.

ABI TITMUS
So some tart who shagged John Leslie and apparently enjoyed some black girl licking her arsehole (or was it the other way around) is playing Lady Macbeth? Yes, tarts can act as well. Tarts can be ambitious. But why give the role to her? Is there no other aspiring actress out there who could play the role better or has it come to getting tabloid fodder to turn Shakespeare into a freak show? I hate Shakespeare anyway. So my point is fuck off to the headline grabbing bastards who do this kind of shit. It ain't cool, it ain't fuckinfg edgy, it's simply twatty. I hope the play sinks.

Here is a link to a shit article by a shit muck raker what goes into slightly more depth and history if you can stomach the vomit. By the way, Jan Moir. You won't be getting off lightly. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1229664/Abi-Titmuss-playing-Shakespeares-famous-villain-Lady-Macbeth.html

BLUR

I kind of like Blur. Not enough to buy their albums or care about them but to say 'Yeah, they're OK.' So imagine my surprise when they win some award for being best live act based on their shambolic gig at Glastonbury last summer at the UK festival awards. Fuck's sake! There may very well be arseholes and mother fuckers who will sit around, arms folded, nod and say 'It was spontaneous, it was emotional, Coxon...Coxon..you have to hand it to them.' To which I will say, 'You're fucking up if you really believe all that bullshit. Fact 1-It souned shit. Fact 2. It wasn't this big lovefest get together or emotional reunion. Some of them needed the money. Fact 3-They hadn't actually split up in the first place. So how many times Jo Whiley wants to wet her knickers over it, just remember there were far more desrving acts. Why couldn't Bruce Springsteen have taken the crown, even just because he took great pleasure in breaking the wanky curfew with 'It's Bruce Time!' Indeed.

NEW MOON

Uh? Vampires? With a twist? Blood/ Lust? Am I fucking missing something or what?















Marks and Spencers Christmas Campaign

Oh fuck off to everyone in them! Screw you, Twiggy!








FLASHFORWARD

I suppose some of you sad fucks might be aware of this abortion of a show. It's supposed to be cool because it's like LOST! but in the city. It's supposed to inspire water cooler moments with the tagline 'What did you see?' but 1. no one actually ever has water cooler moments 2. if you said what did you see to someone, they wouldn't have clue what you're prattling on about because in all understandable likelihood they won't have watched the show, and even if they had, what would you expect them to say, when they haven't actually had a premonition. Do you expect some cunt at the water cooler to give you a fictional premonition? Do you? But it's also quite, quite awful for other reasons. The term Flashfoward is a kind of term used by screenwriters. However in this show, every sad fucker is constantly saying 'Your flashforwards...my flashforwards' or 'Their flashforwards' even when every character wouldn't speak the same or use the terminology of a writer. I suppose this is nitpicking but it's indicative of a flawed script and series. Consider that these losers want to string you along for several years. The characters are not very well developed. I'm sure the producers will say that this is on purpose and over the season we will see them develop blah di blah fucking blah but you can't care about them because the acting is so poor, even when half of them are British. The whole premise of some global catastrophe wiping people's memories for about two minutes in which everyone has preminitions isn't intriguing or new or brave, it's just gimicky and a poor excuse on which to hang a series, buy you some thinking time while everyone involved scamper about trying to come up with a decent plot and characterisation. What did you see? I see a cancellation.

The Comedian That Doesn't Tell Funny Jokes Comedian

Why? What's the point? If he's not ripping basic stand up's and jokes off he seems to be under the impression that saying something loud enough will get laughs. Apparently, fresh from his comeback of representing the dire Children In Need single and the knowingly bad, but not really biting Pop Goes The X-Factor crap he pushed onto us, he's finally got his arse into gear and is doing more shows. He's excited because he's going to enlighten us with witty observations about Wife Swap, Deal or No Deal, iPhones, Facebook and ironically, recycling. It won't matter to the dullards who lap this shite up though, will it? It's al part of their diet of X-factor, I'm a celebrity Get me out of here! and child abuse. Good to see him with the finger on the pulse, only five years out of date, eh Pete? My toes curl at the thought of his 'new' routine.

'iPhone's! Mad aren't they? Whassthatallabout!! Deal or No Deal!! That banker's mad, eh? There's no one on the phone!! Facebook! Who has face book and looks on the pics to see how fat and old their mates are?!! I'm on the cutting edge, me! I tell it like it is!!'

I'll bet Bill Hicks and Lenny Bruce are turning in their graves.

When he dies I doubt Bolton would get over it. They'd erect a big fuck off scary statue that will scare the sensitive souls and re-release 'Armarillo' as a kind of demented 'Candle in The Wind.' Whereas if Gary Megson died there'd be a big carnival inside Reebok stadium.

Has Johann Hari Debased Modern Culture?

Beware folks! This man is a tit. He's the gay version of Quentin Letts. I'm not sure who that statement is more insulting to, Quentin or gay people. It's a valid comparison though. With Quentin Letts you already know that he's a creepy, spineless little toe rag with backward opinions, the backstabbing turd who always vowed to get the bullies back, the hand ringing, crotch rubbing perv of Westminster gossip. It's not a nice assumption, is it?

On the other hand, however, Johann Hari is a little bit worse. He's the suspicious sort that often crops up on Channel 4's 'Big Brother' spin-offs or Newsnight Review, spouting garbage just to appear contrary, therefore 'original' and (how I hate this term) 'edgy'. Example. The general consensus about 'Big Brother' is that it is TV's slop bucket. Far from actually fulfilling its Orwellian social experiment and providing something that actually educates us, it's nothing more than a mirror distorting society, a cynical producers fantasy, a sign that something is not right in TV world, hand picking misfits and plonking them in a cage and giving them rewards like seals for performing irrelevant tasks. The whole thing is as pleasant as a big fat shit on a pristine copy of 'Nineteen Eighty-Four'. So sad. But Hari and his lot would say something like ' ooh but that's not what it's about. It's not supposed to be an Orwellian nightmare...it's Shakespeare!'

So Hari is an apologist of this type of programme and while I couldn't care less what people choose to watch, accompanied with queeny squeals and bottles of wine, I do object to the idea that 'Big Brother' is discussed or reviewed as if its akin to Shakespeare. Hm, convenient isn't it, when intellectuals can compare low art to high art or are far too liberal to actually see art in its different shades of relevance. It's the only way they can justify their guilty pleasure by comparing something to Beckett or Mozart. It fucks me off. I'd have more respect if you said you were an avid viewer but you were aware its a piece of escapist shit. Please be under no illusions. Unfortunately arseholes like Hari pop up unpleasantly like last night's off treacle pudding and engage in meaningless punditry. Meanwhile in Argentina a kid is probably being raped.

What disappoints me is that Hari should know better. He writes for centre-left-liberal newspapers which aren't focused on tits and goss. He obviously has some tastes that seperate him from the average Daily Star reader, unless he keeps a stash of 'OK!' mags in the bog to whack off to in between seasons of Big Brother. (I bet he writes some self-serving, wanky obituary when Big Brother ends next year. I bet you a million quid he does!) His kind of dumbed down 'journalism' is partly the reason I've lost interest in the likes of The Guardian or The Indie. As with the low-brow me, me, 'journalism' of Deborah Orr or Peter Robinson, it feels like you're reading a Christmas newsletter from someone who'd under the impression that you give two shits about them. Maybe he reminds me in many ways of Russell T. Davies.

You wouldn't guess but I've nothing against how people waste their time as long as it doesn't hurt anyone or break any laws. But let's get things into perspective. Big Brother and its ilk is just cheap, lowest common denominator entertainment. It always was.

There Goes The Fear

What a week it's been for poor Lily Allen. Apparently motormouth has had another opinion recently, although one can't tell if it's her opinion, EMI's or Peter Mandelsons. In any case she's pulled her blog idontwanttochangetheworld.blogspot as the 'abuse' became too much. Not sure you could call 99% of people who disagree with you as abuse but anyway. So what has she been getting her leotard in a tangle all about this time?

Well Keith Allen's daughter is concerned about music piracy. It's theft, it's stealing and its damaging up and coming artists, who need that money to create and develop. That is about as eloquently as Bat For Las--sorry Lily has been putting it in a recent myspace rant which then transferred to a blog called 'It's Not Alright', accompanied with emails and posts from the likes of Glasvegas, Guy Chambers and Mark Ronson. OK...Yep, she's much more than a guilty search on google images is our Lily.

Many of the posts to her blog received many, many comments, (including a couple by myself) some were silly, some were slightly insulting but generally the vast amount were reasonably trying to engage in the debate but pointing out why Lily was a bit wrong, hypocritical and quite possibly out of her depth. For her part, Lily refused to engage, coming back with the same, poorly reasoned repetitive party line. Then, like the devil himself she was gone, or I should say, her blog was taken down. Poor Lily, cwying, cwying till she gets her own way. You see, my dear reader, what Miss Allen hadn't figured or thought through was that not only did she lift material from techdirt.com but she even includes mixtapes on her official website, thus infringing copyright. Now while these have prompted, quite rightly, accusations of hypocrisy what irked dear Mr Kool, yours truly and still the best, was her complete silliness about the whole 'music isn't free' business. Of course it's fucking free to create. How much does it cost to write some lyrics, to come up with some chords on a mate's guitar? If you want stylists, graphic designers, PR guru's, etc, you pay for them. Many artists can't afford them, nor do they get the exposure, promotion, or even have success but they don't whine. They get jobs, they still find time to write or play gigs or hammer together a difficult piece of electronic in their bedrooms. Lily and her lot are entitled to nothing.

Secondly, record companies could and should have dealt with the emerging digital technology about 14 years ago, instead of giving huge advances or discovering a dirge of mediorce 'landfill' indie or pushing manufactured pap onto kids like drug pushers. Perhaps it's the dumbing down of culture and media as well as those who feels it's acceptable to live in a reality TV, minor celebrity, cheaply produced dominated culture? Who in the right mind would wish to pay for, or even download for free 90% of the mainstream stuff in the charts anyway when you have to rely on your wits and tastebuds to discover your own music online, and with any luck, if you see it available anywhere, buy it? I can't prove this but I reckon that many of the artists who are whining about this haven't had as much stuff downloaded by whatever means, than say, um, Radiohead. I reckon that James Blunt struggles to have his stuff illegally shared, given that the majority of his audience are probably over 50. Face it he's the Chris De Burgh of the noughties.

No Lily, all this, as I said in a response to your post, smacks too much of the Lars Ulrich/Paul McGuinness school of protectionism. It makes you seem right wing, and selfish and goes against many of the ethics of your musical heroes, and, I gather your dad, who I recall on a music programme on channel four about 8 years ago had a pop at Ronan Keating and some idiot from Five when he passionately tried to explain what pop music used to mean and say something that the likes of Boyzone, Five and Richard Blackwood were failing to do. He was spot on. This is important as these standards I feel are something to do with the falling sales not just people grabbing the odd mp3. Funnily enough Lily didn't seem to have a problem with file sharing a few years ago. What she has to understand is that album sales tend to drop with every album. Most artists, unless you're Abba or The Beatles could tell you this. And Bjorn Ulvaeus should know better.

Even Matt Bellamy from Muse has tried to wade into the debate, suggesting that ISP should up their prices. As if they want to alienate the consumers, much in the same way Lily's already done. Stick to making third rate prog rock, Matt. As for Fergal Sharkey, he doesn't help the debate either. But at least he has a nice, pristine, self-important job to do since he hasn't had a hit for twenty five years. Memo to Fergal: don't use John Peel's love of 'Teenage Dreams' to highlight your cause. I highly doubt he would be with you on your anti-music stance and, more than this, its really underhand and creepy of you. x Smirnov

If you're short of cash, Lily, get yourself down to Jobcentre Plus, instead of throwing your things out of the pram. There's a few going in the Healthcare Sector. Perhaps you could aid, bathe, feed and toilet the elderly for money, and imagine how great you used to have it. Look, there has to be some content medium that doesn't involve Lars Ulrich making a twat of himself or that involves constant, brusque advertisements buggering up your listening pleasure. Here's some ideas:

1. Make better albums.
2. Bring back more focus on music television, such as Top of The Pops they way it used to be, or the Chart Show. More programmes like Jools Holland which focuses on better and more exotic music.
3. Kill Louis Walsh and Simon Cowell. In a sense it would be a spiritual death if they knew the X-Factor was cancelled and all this 'I want to be famous' nonsense would disappear.
4.Hose MTV down and return to 24 hours of music television. Re-instate Ray Cokes. Or re=classify MTV1 as MTV2 and make MTV2 the real music channel because it actually plays MUSIC VIDEOS.
5.Hang George Lamb/Radio 1 controllers/A&R deps/Schedulers/DJ's that don't actually know anything outside of Primrose Hill or Hoxton about music. We could watch them swing in Trafalgar Square. All the proceeds could go to unsigned artists on myspace who haven't had anything downloaded yet.
6.Why can't record companies actually cut their massive advances they give to mediorce artists and employ some Internet savvy people to delete mass content from torrents where they are being 'infringed'? Even though they leak material anyway.

What's the worst that could happen? Lily and her lot would have struggled to make it into the Top 50 in 1994. Be thankful you've been allowed to last this long. Free ride over.

Check out techdirt.com for some reasonable debate about this storm in a teacup.

Electric Dreams Series 2 with Phil Oakey 'Yorkshire Tea and Little Boots'

Hi-ya! How've yer been? I've had a right couple of mad months, me! I'll get to that in a bit. First of all welcome to me second series on this blog. Smirnov Kool has granted me a second season. (He's said he's not been arsed with this blog for a few months) The first series isn't out on DVD yet and Mr Kool can't afford to pay me but since I had a right laugh last time, I thought I could tell yer what I've been up to.

In the first series of 'Electric Dreams' I gave you some of my lifestyle tips and advice about a number of things...In this series I'll like to tell yer what I've been up to and get a few things off me chest.

Yorkshire tea. It's my second favourite tea, you know. When I'm in York I think nowt about popping into 'Betty's Tea' rooms and having a cuppa. You'd think that being Phil Oakey I can just push in front of the queue and shout 'Scuse me, make way...I'm Phil Oakey...here comes the Mirror Man...' but no, I'm not like that. Anyway, why couldn't the makers pick me to do the adverts instead of John Shuttleworth? Don't get me wrong, I like the bloke but come on, he's not as modern as me, is he? I wear nice shirts from Duffer, he got his from Greenwoods. As for my favourite brand of tea, well, the girls and I loved this blend of tea a fan of ours who lived in Bristol used to send us in the 80s . Can't for the life of me think what brand it is. The fan has since died so I never got to find out. Shame.

As you can from the attached pic I came across on Google images me and Little Boots have been getting down together. She was right grateful when I allowed her the privilege of laying down some vocals for our duet 'Symmetry'. She's fucking boss, though isn't she, is our Victoria? Love her album. That song called 'Symmetry' ain't too bad either? Hey, if you're reading this Little Boots how's about doing a duet on 'All I Ever Wanted' from the last League album, 'Secrets' for our next tour, or perhaps a stand alone digital single? Just give me a bell, love and we'll talk.

My talents were also added to The Pet Shop Boys album, 'Yes' on the track 'This Used To Be The Future'. Why it ended up on the second Limited edition disc instead of Legacy wasn't my decision, pal. I reckon that Brian Higgins (they all call him Hitler Higgins in the industry by the way) was responsible for the sequencing. Still folks, see if you can get hold of the mp3 79p from iTunes. It's right good. The best Pet Shop Boys track I've heard for years to be honest.

If you're all interested in electronic pop music I'll be on that programme 'Synth Britannia' in a few weeks on BBC 4. Make a note.

Right folks, that's it for now. I've got to put me tea on now...I'm havin' sweet and sour chicken and chunky chips. Boss!

'We'll always be together'
x

Phil

Hate him! I hate him!

Here's a poser for you? What is it about Mika that I hate so much? Is it the music, the annoying vocal theatrics, the fact that his face is more punchable than La Roux's, the derivative songwriting, the 'ooh I'm such a victim' he often plays? Is it his shit hairstyle? Perhaps it's all of this and more. I'm sure he's a really nice, charming guy, so why do I want to hurt him?

GUILT FEST: The Report

Ever since some rich, racist, fox-hunting farmer got rid of his gypos, Pagans and shot the faces off burglars, 'Guilt Fest' has been the only festival that all the cool twats and ageing musos wold rape Asian molesters to be seen at. This years festival was no different. Hoards of Kanye West sunglasses-wearing bleach headed fools, Gaymers pissheads and the crusty dread-locked hippies you'd otherwise kick to death if you saw on the street with their whippets, were there, all competing with each other to see who'd have the most ridiculous 'Guilt Fest Moment'. And trust me if I hear one more loser say the festival is not about the bands performing but it's about stepping over dead hippies in mud to laugh at students on stilts handing out free beer, Keith Allen's karaoke, the George Foreman Heroine Machine, Heston Blumathal's Amphibian Grotto, then I will kill them where they stand. I'll also offer five new pounds to the first person who can strangle Edith Bowman or garrott Nick Grimshaw. My feet are still peeling. I went to 'Guilt Fest' and all I brought back was these lousy blisters. Sounds like an idea for a t-shirt.

THE KNIFEFISH STAGE

Jive Bunny

Mr Scruff

Greedy Jesus

Beagle 2's Musical Version of 'Let The Right One In' in the style of Jeff Wayne.

The Mark Austins

Brian Wilson

Sean Lennon

Alphabeat

This is where it almost ended. Jive Bunny refused to leave the stage until just after 4 a.m. Only the promise of a bacon barm and Michael Eavis's shotgun seemed to arouse the rocking rabbit to stir. Early on in the night the atmosphere at Guilt Fest was given a dollop of edge when rumours had started that George Michael had died. 'Really, no, not George Mi-,' John Challis had asked with incredulity. 'Yes!' But alas the rumour was false. Brian Wilson took to the stage and performed the Pet Sounds Variations, a version of Pet Sounds in the style of Lady GaGa. 'Fuck Mike Love!' he yelled to a screaming audience. 'Everyone say fuck Mike Love!' 'Fuck Mike Love' we all shouted. Warp's Mr Scruff played a confusing fusion of electronics and tortured animal testing soundtracks much to Beagle 2's annoyance in the wings, following his ambitious version of 'Let The Right One In'. 'Next year, I'll be performing a musical version of Antichrist' he told Nick Grimshaw, 'with Edith.' Then it was Jive Bunny, one of the most successful singles acts in the UK with the 'C-c-c mon everybody' refrain and the 'One-on-on-One-o' clock, two o 'clock...' (sigh) You know the rest.

THE FIRST AID TENT

The Fat Boys

Brian Wilson

Spastics Society

Les Smith

Concentration Camp

The Wonderful Comedy of Bobby Wilson (feat. Rudd Gullit)

Love Decade

Florence and the Machine

Highlights for me had to be The Fat Boys, lured out of semi-retirement with a bucket of tripe and some of the bored girls in the Fila tracksuits from the nearby council estate. 'Wipeout' and 'The Twist', merged effortlessly and complimented their lesser known gems such as 'Rumsfeld Raunch', 'Fanny Pack', and 'Martian Chronicles 2001'. Les Smith delivered a few bitter poems and an anti-war protest song about 'that woman who's under house arrest in Indonesia or somewhere like that...this is for her.' There wasn't a dry eye in the tent. Perhaps Les Smith was not the best choice to follow Bobby Wilson. His return after 11 years in the comedy wilderness was met reasonably well, despite his 40 minute rant about Peter Kay 'stealing my fucking audience of retards' and his bizarre accordion aria about ' Swine flu on the tube.' Where was the 'Nice one!' catchphrase and what happened to Rudd Gullit?

BRONSON BEAT TENT

The JoBoxers

The Revolving Heads

Brian Wilson

Soft Cell

The Toy Dolls

Kick the Pregnant

I Have To Be In Court Tomorrow

Didn't see any of this.

THE SIMON BATES MEMORIAL STAGE

Simon Bates

Curtis Stigers

Stefan Dennis

Franz Lambert

Brian Wilson

Franz Lambert brought the much needed dalliance and sophistication to the festival with his Yamaha versions of Warp classics, including the demonic 'Come To Daddy.' No festival would be complete without Stefan Dennis puncturing the emerging sunset with his feelgood singalong to 'Don't it make feel good?' 'I kinda like being here,' he said. 'It's like my CPD quota,' he bizarrely added. Brian Wilson gave a storming version of 'Sloop John B' whilst in tears and actually backstage. Simon Bates headlined the stage with his greatest Our Tunes stories including a moving one about a Mighty Boosh fan who meets a My Chemical Romance fan who leaves him for a Green Day fan who dies but gives birth to a Brian Wilson fan who gets a bad disease, HIV and leaves home to spend her remaining years with an abusive fan of Will Smith. Not nice. Terrible actually.

CLIQUE TENT

Kool and The Gang

Benny Andersson Band

Nine Inch Nails

Kanye West

Lady Gaga

Bobby Brown

Barry George

Quite an odd one this. During Benny Andersson Band's set, he was flashmobbed by Kanye West/Kool and The Gang fans, who in unison sang 'Don't want no bald headed woman, it makes me mean, makes me mean, males me mean!' Benny continued professionally throwing in a few nods to Kool and The Gang with a note for note sonic perfect version of 'Joanna' and NIN's 'Hurt' and 'Sin'. Then he finished the set with a triumphant performance of Joy Division's 'She's Lost Control'. For his part Barry George rendered his version of events of the Jill Dando murder to a sound bed of Air's 'The Virgin Suicides'. 'I was robbed,' he sniffed at the end. Hair- lip can make you sound like you're sniffing I guess.

CARELESS WHISPER CABARET TENT

Johnny Geddes

Bryan Ferry

Billy Corgan

Saint and Greavsie

In time people who study festivals and festival disasters will look upon this one to almost rival Roskilde. Not only are the Animal Cruelty League are looking into the mysterious deaths of snakes and rabbits but the NSPCC and the West Yorkshire Police are looking into why a girls hand was set on fire. Before you ask, all this happened during the last 15 minutes of Johnny Geddes conjuring and funster show. Things already weren't going well after the first 30 seconds when Geddes told the shocked audience 'You young punks wouldn't know a good snake act if it spat in your mouth.' Then it took his the next twenty minutes to twitter this messages on Fox Tavern's iPhone. I'm not sure what trick he was trying to perform when he set the poor girl's hand alight. (There were rumours that it was Jo Whiley's daughter) This was the exchange that took place.

JG: I'd like a guest. A girl. A young, fair, pretty maiden of about ten years of age. You can get them for nowt in your local school. Don't be shy. You'll do, me dear.

(JG just grabs a girl from the side of the stage) What's your name, me little angel dust? What? Can't hear you? What? Can't hear you? What? Oh hang on, I got cloth in me ears. (JG unravels some cloth out of his ears) What's your name? What? Now then, hold out your hand. (Gives it a kiss) Very charmed. The name of this trick is 'Hand Over Matter'. If you put your mind to it you can achieve anything. You've heard all that mumbo jumbo about walking on hot ash, well you dearest child, will be able to withstand your hand in flames. Now...no, no, don't weep... I'm going to add a bit of magic dust over your delicate hand, me child of the night and wave me magic wand...and before you know it...oh shit...'

(The girls hand is on fire. She screams and is rushed by three members of St John's Ambulance. In the confusion Johnny Geddes rabbits escape and jump into the crowd)

BRANDON FLOWERS FUNHOUSE STAGE

Erasure

La Roux

Blandon Frowels (Chinese Tribute Act)

DJ Tiesto

Karen O with Steve Bruce

Brian Wilson

All the confetti, balloons and fun was to be had upon this stage, if you discount La Roux not taking to the stage at all 'Until someone, takes me and my music seriously.' Karen O and Steve Bruce seemed an unlikely pairing but with Bruce declaration that 'heads will roll!' he stole a few hearts and not just from the chavs that evening. DJ Tiesto was as you'd expect, dance music for the Jeremy Kyle generation if the Jeremy Kyle generation had jobs and Kenco. Erasure were due to do a duet with Robert Powell but had to make do with Andy Bell from Five News. Meanwhile the real Andy Bell inexplicably branded the Pet Shop Boys who recently picked up a Brit for Outstanding Achievement in Pop Music, as 'Nazi shitheads.' Charming.

All in all a fierce and challenging round up of events but unlike incest I don't think I'd be doing this again too soon.

Goodwill to All Men

Goodwill is an odd term. It's something we're supposed to have for all men and dogs. Around Christmas Dickensian people wander around muttering 'goodwill' to each other, whilst beating the cold out of their chests with their fists. They even make mediocre people 'goodwill ambassadors' these days. Their duties involve giving poorly written speeches saying how nice we should be to each other before they go back to their hotel rooms to score some coke and cock.

So what is goodwill? For me it should involve a warm glow, a happy, clueless, Ian Broudie-esque smug mood that you have when you're on holiday or in love. It's that warm anticipation in your body when you're attending some amazing event such as a Kylie Minogue concert or a Jimmy Carr burial. It's a big chorus of an ELO record, the theme to Starman but there are people, evil souls out there who want to ruin this goodwill for the rest of us. These blood sucking fuckers will use your goodwill to make you guilty, to extort money from you and drain the frivolous five minutes of love from your heart. It'll leave you slumped on the pavement wonderign where all your money and goodwill went. Here's some soul destroying examples:

Concerts.
You will be charged gob smacking prices for programmes and crappy merchandise, weak, cheap, warm beer by the venue. Yes, they have to make a living. I can accept that. No, they don't have to take the piss. This will have you reeling long after the thugs outside, the bootleggers and touts aggressively scream at you to give them money. One guy at a concert I went to years ago was cold heartedly selling those crappy luminous glow sticks. I've still no idea what the point of them are, no more than the shit toys street sellers try and push to the kids. Even though this guy had sold his last one he thrust his hand open under my nose and demanded 'Gimme some change, man!' Of course you'd well be within your rights to knife the Mos Side faced bastard in the throat in any other time for attempting to mug you, but no, not tonight, not when you have goodwill. Enough arseholes will be quite happy to pay through the nose for pieces of crap, the same hateful bastards who pay £5 on a cheap flight for beer or £4 for a bag of crisps and a bar of chocolate when the flight only actually lasts TWO FUCKING HOURS and they have already scoffed something at the airport ON TOP of breakfast.

Holiday.
Mother fucking opportunities everywhere to lick out the tourists and sell them what? Answer me this. Who the fuck in 2009, in this dimension, on this earth wants stupid fucking plastic knick-knacks, cheapo watches, bracelets, poor sun hats, poor Poundstretcher rip offs? Just leave us alone. I understand you have a living to make but don't try and make it with me. Don't. Please. Or next time I'll kick the shit out of you.

Rose sellers.
They despise us. They want a piece of your infatuation. They really couldn't give a shit if you've doped her. They want what's in your pocket. They will never stop till they get your cash. Behind their strained, tight smile, they are wishing death on you. Just ask when you see them 'Are you happy for us? Are you happy?' Tell them that you don't want a rose because you are with your sister or brother. They will get embarrassed. Good. Just look at their face. They hate you. They hate us. All of us.

Big Issue sellers.
Not all of them want to ruin our day and even if they did can you blame some of them, seeing wankers passing them, ignoring them, talking into phones, throwing half eaten sandwiches, breathing, having cosy homes to go to, the bastards? If you don't buy a magazine, even if there's nothing decent worth reading in it, if you dare not give them anything at all, you are scum. You are loathsome and worthless because you didn't have the bad fortune to keep it together, get addicted to drugs, have a nervous breakdown or through no fault of your own, end up on the streets. You callous bastards with your shopping bags and Police sunglasses.

Ghost of a chance

This woman is laughable. Having had the misfortune to see 'The Ghost Whisperer' which we know is addictively shit, it appears that Jennifer Love-Hewitt is apparently relaunching her country and western music career. WHAT CAREER? If this is the case, it's wrong on about three levels.

Level 1-It's country and western music.
Level 2-Who the 'eck has heard of her previous music career?
Level 3-It's not just country and western music. It's country and western music made by Jennifer Love-Hewitt, the same Jennifer Love-Hewitt who is in a mediocre, 'spiritualist' programme called 'The Ghost Whisperer.

Still not convinced? Just in case you never had an inkling that Jennifer Love-Hewitt is the anti-christ, she plays a self-obsessed character called Melinda who can see and communicate with dead people. In the show her pisshead mother thinks she's an attention seeking bitch and resents her for it. From the goodness of her heart, our Melinda basically helps these sad dead fuckers put their past lives back together, reconcile with their families before they go to the 'light'. Yes, the assumption is that there is a heaven, obviously and everyone in this small, white middle class town , especially young people are dying every week. There's more casualties in this place than Iraq! The bitch even has a day job (at a place called 'Same As It Never Was') that she hardly has to go to, selling crap and junk. Not sure if it's supposed to be antique or what, but it's all tacky. So yeah, week in, week out she pretty much interferes with everything, but because Jennifer Love-Hewitt is the executive producer and she is better than anyone in the world, her profound character not only has screen time in every scene, but even plays a teenage version of herself during one flashback when it could have been played by a teen actress. Oh and every week there are always tears in the eyes of the actors, and everyone is soooo emotional. I can imagine some bland suburban family weeping buckets of crocodile tears. It's hateful stuff.

Basically Love-Hewitt and Melinda are both phoneys!