X-factor, taking the bus, and the media.

I don't have as much time on my hands these days, hence the lack of posts, but when enough shit has baffled me beyond belief you'll be among the first to know about it.

I'm not a 'bus man'. No, I don't mean 'bus driver' - although, I'm not one of those tossers either - I mean it's not my usual mode of transport or, at least, not my first choice. The drivers are one reason for that. I have never seen, or heard of, a bus driver's code of conduct, but I believe it must read something along the lines of 'must be the most sour-faced cunt on the face of the Earth'. Every time I insert my money into the machine - normally over the required rate due to the lack of exact change - they look at me like I've just shat on their lobster thermidor. One driver even started a beef with me because I wasn't one of those who sit at home and study the pamphlet with all the bus routes, stages and fairs in it, like they're about to sit an exam on the subject.

Young mothers are as much of a fucking laugh as their frantic children. They are obviously fans of the 'always room for one more pram' philosophy, which is nothing short of horse shite. The maximum is normally two prams on each side of the zone depending on the size of them - sometimes mums produce double-decker buggies and stuff. Still, when you're a young mum and fifth in the que, the world should probably go fuck itself and allow for buggie pile-ups on buses. Now that's a video game that would sell. Even without the prams, their kids are left to run riot up and down the isle jumping and pissing on the seats like incontinent kangaroos of the damned. A swift toe to the jaw wouldn't go a miss on any of those vile creatures.

The X-factor final was a harrowing experience, wasn't it? I don't think it could have been any more overblown if they decided to hold it on fucking Saturn. Apparently, it recieved the worst attendance and viewing figures yet of any series. By the looks of it, the organisers decided to view this in a more positive light - 'yes, there are less people in the audience, but look on the bright side... there's more space for fireworks.' Ironically, the figures would've risen if they'd gone the full shilling and had a bonfire with the loser of the final being tossed into it... and the winner, to be honest. Fuck it, if they burned the lot, the inside of my boxers would have been stickier than a toffee-apple covered in double-sided sellotape. I don't understand why they have to play those video packages where the contestants' friends, family and acquaintances get all bullshit emotional and tell them how much they have 'inspired' people. Seriously? Who the fuck has ever been inspired by a glorified kareoke singer? If this is a world in which our main source of inspiration is a below average cover of a song you can rarely recall hearing of, then I am backing Richard Branson's Virgin Galactic airline 'taking off'. Apologies for the terrible pun.

Surely, this decrease in popularity is a declaration that the X-factor is no longer relevant. Please, for the love of all that is good and pure, let it be so. I've never officially liked it in the first place. Okay, the auditions were an amusing novelty to begin with, but if it were a Christmas turkey even the most desperate of tramps would have given up on it by now. Imagine nine consecutive shits that looked, smelled and felt exactly the same, that's what the X-factor is like. Also, the longer it has gone on, the more it has become less about the 'talent' and more about the judges. An irony considering the panel has gotten steadily worse by the series. I remember an audition where a distinctly terrible girl group decided to try and put Tulisa - who barely achieved her fifteen minutes with, R(ape) 'n' B(ums) group, N-dubz - in her place. The panelist chose to be blunt and tell them straight that 'the energy and dancing was only there to cover up the fact that they can't sing', to which one of the girls responded with 'that's a bit rich coming from you'. The group were fucking horrific, but the girl made an exquisite point there. In an interview afterward, Tulisa claimed that they would get 'nowhere in this business' with such an 'attitude'. That's right, Tulisa, rubbing your nose against a cock on camera for twelve minutes or so is how it's done.

Due to the sadness which surrounds this next topic, I'm going to start off with something more light-hearted. I saw an article on the 'Huffington Post' website with the headline 'The royal baby and what it means for women' which was not followed by the words 'absolutely fuck all.' In my opinion, this is a scandal in itself and thus should be treated as such. I'm sure you're familiar with the disgusting news that Kate Middleton is pregnant. Of course, there were also reports that a hospital nurse was pushed into taking her own life after falling for a prank phone call by two Australian DJ's, claiming to be The Queen and... someone else, and confirming the pregnancy amidst reports of Kate turning up at the hospital with 'morning sickness.' Enter the fucking press with their exaggerated, uninteresting headlines calling for heads. This is the one deadly serious line you'll read in this post - fuck the media, if they honestly think that we give two fucks about what they say, do or think then they are more deluded than a short bus full of retarded cattle. Those cunts missing the humor entirely and making it seem like a huge deal is what killed that nurse. Nothing more, nothing less.

This is exactly what the media mean when they say 'we have the right to free speech'. The irony in this is blatant in my eyes. This is the same media which consistently condemns the shock-humor of Scottish comedian, Frankie Boyle, as 'vile' and 'insensitive'. As far as I am aware, Frankie's jokes have never forced anyone into hanging themselves... yet. How can you argue for free speech and against it simultaneously without looking like a complete dickhead? I rest my case.

Special Comeback Post: 'Pleb-gate', premature autobiographies and more!

Aaaaaand we're back!

Apologies for the wait. Actually, I really couldn't give less of a fuck but it's nice to be nice. I've labelled this a 'Special Comeback Post'. In all honesty, I may have heightened your expectations with that, so let's take it down a notch by revealing that it's more or less the same old shit as previous. Although, I'll start this one off by telling a true story that I was involved in.

I had just been dropped off at the opposite end of my street after college and was sauntering along with the iPod in at almost deafening volume (the right volume) when I notice a man walking towards me. He looked a sorry state. The sort of bloke you'd catch shouting at the cashiers in a Post Office and headbutting the glass. He was fat, balding and had a clear physical invalidity given away by a single crutch. To make matters worse, he was wearing a tracksuit that Babe the pig would consider filthy and had had a face like Alex Ferguson after a bar fight. I could see he was yelling to - or at, either way I didn't care much at this point - another man behind him walking in the opposite direction. It looked as if they'd said their goodbyes and the man continued to drag himself my way. I closed my eyes and thought to myself 'please don't talk to me'. Sure enough, in the split-second silence between the songs on my iPod I hear the phrase 'excuse me, son'. Here we fucking go. I took my earphones out as if to officially announce that I am listening. Despite the man's description, I did not expect the words that followed. 'Can you tell me where I can get a gram of weed?'. Obviously, I was surprised and cought off guard (although, in hindsight I can see why he thought I would know) so I let out a simple response of 'no, sorry'. He then attempted to bribe me by saying 'I'll buy you some as well likes'. Yeh, thanks, then what? You'll go halfers with me on a hooker if I show you to the nearest brothel? I must look like some fucking back alley tour guide. He soon realised that I was of no assistance and proceeded to fuck off. I wonder if he got his fix or if he killed himself moments after meeting me. I'm tempted to say both, but you can't have everything.

I recently discovered the 'horrific scandal' in which Tory Chief Whip, Andrew Mitchell, branded a policeman guarding the gate to Downing Street a 'fucking pleb' after he refused to let him in with his bike. First off, allow me to state that I had no fucking clue there was ever such a career with the slightly humorous title 'Chief Whip', nor do I know what it entails. What I do know is that this is a classic mountain-out-of-molehill case. A Tory called a policeman a pleb, boo hoo fucking hoo. He swore? *gasps* Really!? Imagine any human being using the 'F' word in fucking public. Seriously? This is a major story!? I'm going to cut my thoughts down to one simple question - who gives a shit? Next!

Autobiographies. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't they supposed to be written by public figures who have 'done it all'? I always thought that you are to write a book about your life AFTER you've lived it, not before it has begun. If this is the case, why does Jessie J have one? Don't get me wrong, I'm aware she's not the first 'celebrity' to do this and she won't be the last, I'm just using her as a scapegoat because I fucking hate her. I can answer the very question - money. Yes, I'll give her she's not as stupid and gullable as her fans because she sees an opportunity to set herself up and takes it. Even if the decision makes her a bit of a hypocrite. She knows that talentless popstars like her don't last very long in the spotlight. They're in one minute and out the next to make way for the next wave of teens with cheesy lyrics, repetative beats and not a single instrument in sight. She will squeeze every hapeny out of her naive supporters' parents before her excuse for a career heads south. That's where the hypocrisy kicks into 5th. Wasn't it Jessie J who had that number one hit song 'Price Tag' about not being interested in money or fame and doing it just for the love of it? I think it was. 'It's not about the money, money, money. We don't care about your money, money, money. We just wanna make the world dance. Forget about the price tag.' I believe she sings about a thousand times in the three fucking minutes or so. Indeed, 'forget about the price tag... unless it's stuck on a leaflet written by me in Waterstones'. Seriously, she's barely lived a quarter of her life and been relevant for about a year, what could she possibly have to say that's so gripping?

Finally, a brief mention of a hoax photograph of Justin Bieber nude. The inclusion of the word 'hoax' in that sentence has single handedly disappointed several paedophile rings. Really though? A nude picture of him!? Any females (or males, I'm not prejudice) masturbating to that is like me wanking over a baby scan. Enough said.

The Paralympics Opening Acid Trip.

* Please note - this post is not intended to belittle anyone with any kind of disability, physical or mental. It is purely observational and should not be taken literally or seriously.

As many of you will know, the closing ceremony (suicide advert, whatever you want to call it) of the Olympic Games paves the way for the Paralympic Games to begin hitting our screens. It annoys me when my programmes start late because of previous shows over-running as it happens almost every time, but I can tolerate live events of a perticular magnitude. However, when it has over-run by nearly an hour like in this case, surely you can understand my irritability.

In light of this setback, I decided to leave the Paralympics Opening Ceremony on and wait for my programme to start (at this point, I had no clue how long I'd be waiting). If I could describe what I witnessed using one phrase, it would have to be 'what in the absolute fuck have I just seen'!? It was like an adaptation of inside Walt Disney's mind when he was alive and on a two-week drugs bender.

I understand the concept of the games and what it took for the athletes to reach this stage, but I put it to you that if you said you wouldn't laugh at flying wheelchairs you are either lying or there are corpses with more of a sense of humor. Apart from that, I couldn't begin to grasp what the vast majority of it had to do with anything remotely close to the games. What part does a sperm whale and a bloke with a skirt on fire play in the Paralympics? To make the athletes feel at home?

I say that, but there was one part that blew my mind. As a woman began a song on a piano, there was something cutting about the stage that I couldn't quite make out. Initially, I thought it was a Chimpanzee or some kind of ape/monkey purely due to it's size and the fact that its hands were doing the work in making it move. As the camera panned in I realised it was, in fact, a man who'd been cut in half doing a little dance for the crowd. I revert back to that phrase, what the fuck did I just see? Just when I thought shit couldn't get wierder, he started flying around the stadium. Not by his own power, obviously, I think the power of flight would cancel out the loss of limbs and therefore he couldn't call himself disabled. Still, it was hard work finding out if this was real or some sadistic dream.

The madness didn't end there. I never thought I'd see Stephen Hawking on stage with a couple of DJ's dancing behind him performing a track while he rattles on about life like Robocop having a drunken conversation. In spite of everything though, I really, really think there was just something missing...

Controversy and overreaction in current times.

Plenty to rape your eyes with in this post, my lovelies. Some cracking stories in the news recently that you may or may not have noticed, so let's not piss about.

7-time Tour De France winner, Lance Armstrong, was found to have used performance enhancing drugs and has been stripped of his titles, accomplishments and, most of all, every ounce of dignity he ever had. It makes me wonder if testicular cancer was a severe side effect that his dealer forgot to warn him about. When your testosterone levels are through the fucking roof, surely something's got to give.

With the amount of illegal substances floating around in his system, the uphill parts of the races couldn't have provided much more strain than having someone else make him a cup of tea. It may have reached a stage (no pun) where he thought he was actually taking part in the Tour De Saturn racing against The Clangers to the tune of the 'Magic Roundabout'.

Before I begin talking about the next story, I need to make this as clear as I possibly can - I DO find it extremely funny and not an inch of my heart or soul feels any kind of remorse, probably because I'm a cunt. Fair enough.

At this years annual V Festival, former X-Factor contestant and student of Will.I.Am (clearly not in the subject of English language), Cher Lloyd, was obliterated with bottles of urine ('piss' to you and me) and at a mere two songs into her set she cancelled the whole thing. Apparently she was 'in tears' after trying to calm down the crowd before she was struck dead centre with a bottle. It appears her 'Swagger Jagger' is of little use when it comes to being showered with #1.

Let's face it, this is a stark message to festival organisers everywhere which says 'don't bother booking shit pop like this for big festivals because nobody wants to see or hear it'. It is a call for music festivals to stick to what made them so popular - bands and musicians. Like it or not, the fact of the matter is that festival goers couldn't give two fucks about what the number one single is and who 'sings' it, they just want to see some bad-ass LIVE performances from credible and passionate artists. Cher Lloyd was the scapegoat, admittedly, but she epitimises what a lot of music fans view as a problem in the industry.

The thing that gets me is the obvious overreaction from her peers. X-Factor judge, Tulisa, branded the bottle throwers 'bullies' - a term which I feel is often overused and thrown around needlessly. Just because she is 19 years old doesn't make it bullying, would the same thing be said if she was 29? Was it bullying when 50 Cent was bottled off at Reading Festival in 2004? Is Fazer a bully for shagging Tulisa's face into oblivion? A rule of thumb is you have to take the good with the bad, especially if you're a talentless irritant like Cher Lloyd in a place you clearly don't belong - the public eye.

A short YouTube rant.

I've come to think that if I wait a few days and let the thoughts gather in my head before posting one of these I'll end up being able to type it up without clutching at the proverbial straws. Alas, all I've managed to grasp is even more fucking straws. Turns out watching YouTube videos all day every day doesn't give you any more thoughts. Not interesting ones anyway.

Speaking of YouTube, however, what is the deal with the adverts? Whether it's the ones on the video screen - which you can, fortunately, in most cases skip after five seconds and grant yourself an earlier opportunity to view the content you clicked to see - or the ones at the right hand side of the page riddled with animations that will slam the brakes on your motherfucking processor. Frustrating. I understand how advertising works and all that, but do they have to take up more processing power than the rest of the fucking webpage that they stain? It's like a giant, animated skidmark on white boxer shorts. You don't get billboards that decrease the acceleration of a motor vehicle, so why have adverts that make the webpage take much longer to load?

It's not just on YouTube, they're everywhere. It's just more annoying when you reach an important stage in the middle of viewing a video clip and the advert on the page decides to change making the video pause for a breath of fuck all. It's normally shopping sites you've done business with suggesting shit you've already bloody bought. 'You may also like...' Yes, I might like that 'cause I bought it yesterday you cunts!

The ad's before the video are every bit as irritating. Too many times I've been forced to sit through a 30-second clip of 'Bold 2 In 1' just to witness a 6-second clip of someone punching their fucking budgie in the face. YouTube becoming marketable was the worst thing that could've happened to that website.

Forgive me, but this has to be said.

I know, I said this blog was never going to be about protesting against anything or anybody and I assure you I won't let it become one of those. However, this post regards something I feel quite strongly about and, although I know nobody needs me to leap to their defense, this is something I really need to get off my chest. Please, bare with me.

We hear the dreaded words everywhere we go, political fucking correctness. Well, in most cases minus the 'fucking' part. That would be extremely contradictory if the followers used that term in the middle. I'm going to abandon that phrase for the duration of this post because I don't like it. There's nothing 'correct' about it, it's just a term that some cunt made up. Why should we all abide by the rule of someone most of us didn't know existed?

As you probably know, or you may have guessed, I am a huge fan of Scottish comedian, Frankie Boyle. This is not a biased post about how much I like him or telling people to leave him alone as such. This is about freedom of speech and expression. Frankie just happens to be the epitamy of this 'freedom' and that's why I enjoy his work so much. He is known for his 'controversial' and 'offensive' style dubbed 'shock humor'. Lately, he's been back in the news with seemingly every article in every paper having a fucking go at him for being himself. He's a comedian, he tells jokes and there are, and should be, no boundaries in real comedy. If you don't like it, don't laugh and watch/listen to something else instead of wasting your time writing a big fucking article about hurting people's feelings. Boo hoo fucking hoo. We all have to put up with the same shit in our lives, think of it as a case of someone managing to take it and embrace it rather than cry and moan like a little bitch. Frankie called Olympic swimmer, Rebecca Adlington, 'dolphin face'. I've heard much worse than that in the school playground.

The people calling it 'insensitive', 'immoral', 'vile' and the likes really bother me because they think the world revolves solely around them and that their wants and needs should be catered for at every minute of every day over every square inch of this planet. If you are one of these people, FUCK OFF!!! Who are you to tell people what's right and what's wrong? When 75 of you are complaining about a 'foul-mouthed and distasteful slur' on national TV, you show complete disregard for the other 1 million people who actually enjoyed it or even those who neither found it funny nor offensive. You need to accept the fact that not everyone loves the Queen, not everyone believes in the Bible, not everyone has been a rape victim, cancer patient or mentally challenged. I'm not saying this means we shouldn't care, we are in the position of being able to take a fucking joke for what it is, a joke. It's not made to inspire people to become paedophiles or to assassinate public figures, it is merely an attempt to take the seriousness out of something serious for the sake of having a bit of a giggle. If you take yourself, your life and everything else too seriously, the more likely you are to become hurt and offended.

Enough of this bleeding heart bullshit. Last year, my dad passed away from severe lung cancer, my dog died from cancer earlier this year and a friend of the family died from liver cancer. Let me tell you something, it didn't stop me from seeing the funny side and laughing at any jokes on the subject. If anything it helped me deal with and manage the pain. You fuckers need to realise that it's not all black and white - 'this is offensive and that is not' - because people take offense to different things. It is taken not given. Don't blame the speaker for the fact that you can't take it, leave the room and listen to something better suited to your interests. Whether you like it or not, we're not all humorless pansies spouting 'knock knock' jokes and jumping around playing slapstick pranks like morons. Some of us have a more sophisticated sense of humor and sometimes it can be a therapy, a chance to let go of reality and fucking enjoy ourselves for once without someone leaning over our shoulder telling us what we can and can't laugh at.

At the end of the day, the fact that you don't like something doesn't mean it has no business existing. We have to put up with your Diamond Jubilees, your X-Factors, your Olympic Ceremonies and your Soap Operas. So why should we let you take away our fucking interests? By all means, promote your charities and do your thing, just let us 'insensitive, vile' people have our fun and don't judge us just because we don't share the same imaginary rule book. Stop trying to turn Earth into fucking Sesame Street and open your mind for a change.

Thank you.

Step Up 4!? How did that happen?

On August 10th (in the UK), the world of cinema will change forever. Spiderman will be squashed, the Dark Knight will rise no more and Ted will simply fall apart like the vast majority of old, withered, plush toys. Get ready for the 'Step Up Revolution'!!!

*nothing but the sound of crickets is heard*

Yes indeed, the fourth installment of the never popular 'Step Up' franchise - officially entitled 'Step Up 4: Miami Heat' in Great Britain - promises to be the blockbuster event of the year. They're probably quite right, that is if you like your movies to consist of feckless, youthful fairies bouncing around the street like super-evolved gibbons on ecstasy for an hour and a half.

Here's the trailer -


One of the first things that went through my mind the first time I saw this was 'who decided that the original film was phenomenal enough to warrant a fucking sequel? Never mind four of the bastards.' The opening scene in the trailer strikes me as a humanoid version of 'Jumanji' with the way they're just leaping around on people's cars. The question on everyone's mind, to quote the news reader, is 'fuck this, where's the Ibuprofen and the Smirnoff?' It seems like a terribly American thing to do, but then why isn't there some warped cunt picking them off with a shotgun? You can't have everything, I suppose. Although, they seem to have included them riding the vehicles like gigantic skateboards. I was half-waiting on someone attempting a heelflip off of a multistory car park.

If that wasn't enough to highlight the mind-numbing insanity on the part of the writers, then art sculptures with no legs thrusting as if to shag the very oxygen you breathe has to be very near the tipping point. If I were there I'd be punching myself in the face whilst screaming 'wake me from this sick and twisted nightmare'. If that's not enough, try half a corporate building's worth of staff breaking to a halt before shuddering in unison like epileptics at a fucking Muse concert. A confusing point is when news breaks about the dancers gaining '20,000 hits on YouTube in under 5 hours' to which every prick in the bar pops their load with extreme joy - or horror, it's difficult to tell. Are they all members of the 'Restless Fuckers League' or something? Do they all just mince around in public places simply because they can't comprehend the idea of sitting with their feet up whilst watching a proper film? Fortunately, the answer is no.

The main premise seems to revolve around a legion of breakdancers called 'the Mob' who decide that dancing can make a change. They've certainly proved that point, I've almost changed my mind about wanting to continue sucking air into my lungs to survive another day. Some business wanker seeks to demolish their strip in favour of a hotel of achitectual wonder and the Mob are to dance the shit out of their evil plan. If that doesn't carry Step Up 4 to the title of highest grossing film of all time, it will be the biggest shock since the 'Opal Fruits' name change to 'Starburst'.

The only way I'd ever watch a 'Step Up' film is if they merged it with the 'Alien' franchise and called it 'Step Up 5: Alien Dance of Death'. The Mob, with special guests LMFAO, attempt to become the first dance team to perform a routine on the moon which is broadcast live on YouTube, but a couple of 'facehuggers' later their ribs are protruding and the resulting aliens begin to tear them apart for the entire planet Earth to behold as LMFAO try to 'shuffle' them into submission which only serves to delay their certain doom.

'Rebel of Honor'.

More fighting in the middle-east as the Syrian 'uprising' continues. I always found the word 'uprising' slightly patronising. It's as if they're saying - 'Syria haven't just risen, they've risen up.' I seriously doubt that if anyone in the country were to read the word 'rising' they'd think - 'ahh, they've decided to tunnel under ground in search of the Earth's core.' Either 'Syria Rising' doesn't have a good enough ring to it or I'm seriously overestimating the British public.

It was interesting to find out what the Guardian are doing for the cause, 'Middle East Live: Blogging the Uprisings In the Middle East and North Africa'. I'm guessing they're expecting more. They make it sound like a cross between the Olympics and fucking Live Aid. Here's a recent post -

"2.36pm: The Palestinians will next month renew a bid to upgrade their status at the United Nations, according to the Palestinian foreign minister, Riad al-Malki."

It bears a striking resemblance to the 'Sky Sports Transfer Clockwatch'. '2.52pm: Sources suggest that Riad al-Malki has arrived at the United nations for a medical in a deal reportedly worth up to 1.2 million Isreali children.' Strictly speaking, al-MALKI is a name you don't mess with.

The graphics in 'Call of Duty: Uprising' look immense. Hit 'X' to reload, mate.

I think that would be a great idea for a video game. It could combine titles like FIFA with the likes of COD where the player chooses their favourite nation from the middle-east to start an uprising - similar to the 'team select' screen on FIFA - and choose 11 rebels from a possible 30 who each have attribute ratings based on skills such as shooting accuracy, reload speed, pace, reactions, agility, mental strength and pain threshhold. Players then decide which individual rebel they wish to control and the uprising begins in 'story mode'. The object is to try and take control of every nation - using the same rebel squad chosen by the player at the beginning - with the assassination of the President securing each of them in turn. Other modes include 'VS mode' which consists of split-screen action where players can choose to be a rebel force or a government force in a fight to the death.

Just a thought.

Cycle Lane of Doom.

I know that I have posted in regards to the London Olympics already, but it is happening at present. Let's face it, even if you've been gang raped by a hoard of Astro Gazelles, unless it's happened somewhere in the vicinity of the Olympic Village it's not going to be headline news. That's precisely something that has bothered me.

The media are in an absolute frenzy - like paedophiles at a 'Singing Kettle' show. So much so that they seem to be broadcasting almost any and every 'incident' within a 5-mile radius of the Olympic Village. I'm half expecting a BBC News 24 presenter to interrupt with breaking news about some randomer in distress. 'Reports suggest that a 13 year-old girl has had her very first period on one of the Olympic rides. There's currently no information on which ride this event took place on, but we'll be sure to update you when more information becomes available.'

There was one thing that did happen which was difficult to ignore - a cyclist was killed after being struck by an Olympic shuttle bus.  The following is a quote from The Times Online.

"The man, 28, was pronounced dead at the scene on the A106 near the junction with the A12, a road that runs around the north side of the park, near the velodrome and the basketball arena.
The victim has not yet been formally identified but his next of kin have been informed of his death. The International Olympic Committee said last night that he was not an athlete."

Tragic stuff. Is it just me, or does the last line of that quote read like they're fucking relieved? 'Shit, a cyclist has been killed! He's not an athlete? Phew, thank god for that. I almost gave a fuck there.' Apparently the bus driver was arrested for causing death by dangerous driving. That may be jumping to conclusions as a large portion of non-competing cyclists at the Olympics seem like they're off their fucking rocker according to some reports.

Incidentally, this is not the only 'accident' to have occurred involving a cyclist being T-boned by a motor vehicle. Somewhere near Kent, a 14 year-old boy was knocked of his bike by a man in a Fiat Bravo in a hit and run attack. There appears to be some sort of 'League of Shadows' meets 'Destruction Derby' in a vendetta against cyclists. It's like they're being picked off one at a time by the hired henchmen of the 'Anti Bicycle Corp' or some shit. If they really wanted to make an impact, where were they during the Tour De France?

Speaking of the Tour De France, winner Bradley Wiggins has called for helmets to be made compulsory by law in the wake of these tragedies. A good idea, but is Bradley's arsehole big enough to fit him on your head? Seriously though, he says it as if wearing a piss-thin plastic helmet is impregnable to the force of a fucking double decker bus. That's like calling for wooly gloves to be a legal requirement incase of a fucking avalanche. It'd have to be made of 5-inch thick steel coated with Rhino skin or something. Gormless prick.

Sky Sports blues.

'It's Balotelli... AguerOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!'

Am I the only one feeling slightly tortured by hearing this piece of commentary every two minutes. It's bad enough going to a break when I'm trying to beat one out to Aerobics Oz Style, but that advertisement is a total buzzkill. To me, the message sent out in that advert is 'if you watch the Premier League next season on Sky Sports, you might find out what the other commentators sound like at the point of orgasm too!' It's disturbing to think of Martin Tyler screaming 'Aguero' at the top of his lungs when reaching climax during intercourse with his wife. It must be quite confusing for her.

Saying that, those 'That Goal' segments refuse to come across much better. There are two which cought my attention in the worst possible way - the Chelsea fan talking about the final penalty in the Champions League final shootout in Munich and the Evertonian about a flukey Tim Howard goal.

The Chelsea fan is just some fat, half-cast prick that thrashes himself off thinking of Didier Drogba winning them the European Cup and, in turn, eradicating Tottenham Hotspur's chance of competing in the competition next season. The latter part is crucial in terms of how this guy is an idiot. At the end of the advert he tells us that all the Chelsea supporters began singing 'are you watching White Heart Lane (Tottenham Hotspur's stadium)' before laughing as if Satan has just begun to climb out of his mouth and his tonsils are being tickled by Satan's arse hair. Nothing is ever that funny, especially that piece of shit he calls a story.

The Everton fan makes himself look a right cunt because he can't even remember the goal he's supposed to be raving about, despite specifically talking about nature's role in the story. 'The wind took the ball. It was the wind that took the flight of the ball. Was it a goal kick or did he pick it up? Y'know what, it's difficult. When someone asks you about a goal, you can't remember.' I know what he means -  you never forget the forces of nature involved in a situation, but the situation itself escapes your mind like Steve McQueen on coke.

Hat's off to you, Sky, if that doesn't keep me off Babestation I don't know what will.

Olympic treatment.

A 17 year-old boy - not a man yet, don't believe the media - was arrested for abusive tweets directed to Tom Daley. The main focus is a tweet suggesting that his dad (Rob Daley, who passed away due to a brain tumour) would have been let down by Tom's performance at the Olympics.

A nasty thing to say, admittedly, but shit happens. 'Ordinary' civillians have to put up with verbal abuse over Twitter, Facebook and out in the streets on a regular basis, life does it's deed and carries on. I fail to understand why Olympic athletes are suddenly immune to such attacks. I'm sorry if you're a Union Jack-wielding ultra-prick, but 'doing the country proud' is not a valid reason in my book simply because diving into a swimming pool a couple of times is not on a par with risking your life fighting against the Taliban on a daily basis. Athletes are fair game just like the rest of us, they don't warrant any special treatment.

Frankie Boyle - a comedian of whom I am a big fan - has been 'in trouble' for merely tweeting that Rebecca Adlington possesses the face of a dolphin. Front page news for a light joke just because the target happened to be an Olympic swimmer? That's horse shit if you ask me, but at least it gives him some decent publicity, albeit publicity he probably - if I were to hazard a guess - couldn't give two fucks about.

News reports I can deal with, but arresting people for posting distasteful comments on Twitter should be the cue for God to terminate our very existence as a species. Prisons are crowded enough as it is. Can you imagine the conversation between cell-mates?

Convict #1 - 'What you in for?'

Convict #2 - 'The rape-murder of my own family. You?'

Convict #1 - 'Calling Jessica Ennis a cunt on Twitter.'

Convict #2 - 'You sick motherfucker!'

It's rediculous when you think about it like that.

P.s, this will [hopefully] be one of very few 'protest posts'.

The 'Twilight' affair.

Kristen Stewart was recently cought having it off behind the back - not literally I hope - of lover Robert Pattinson with another bloke. Zzzz...

Who truthfully gives a werewolf's cock about either of them? As people, they are [almost] less interesting than any of their films. She looks like a cross between Bugs Bunny and an elf, whilst he just looks like he was beaten and abused as a child with the ugly stick. I thought people - especially teenie-boppers - only gave a fuck about looks? Apparently, Kristen claims it was a 'momentary indiscretion' despite the fact it lasted for months. A bit like saying that Jack the Ripper's killing spree was a short-lived mental hiccup.

The man in question is not much of a step up for Kristen either. Rupert Sanders resembles a creature you might find in 'Men In Black'. His eyes are so squint he must think reality is just an astronomical game of picture scramble. I reckon if you were to shoot him in the face with an AK-47 he'd register the pain, but overall it wouldn't make much of a difference. All that without mentioning bears or KFC.

Whatever comes of this, we are safe in the knowledge that they are all cunts.

Gone with the shit...

Howdy.

This is my new - I'd like to say improved - attempt at a blog and I thank you for being psychotic enough to develop even a slight interest.

I decided to make a fresh one because the more I thought about 'The Kingdom of Rantlantis' the more I wondered if it would be useful on top of a pizza. It wasn't going to be long before Dairylee were phoning me up asking for the rights to that title. I also felt it was getting a bit too, dare I say, serious in terms of content. Yes, I was making strange analogies and tearing shit up, but the tone was getting preachier and getting to the point of being almost like a protest page as opposed to a satirical one.

It's time to 'dumb down' and take the piss rather than pretend to be some sort of intellectual trying to change the world in some way. I'll leave that to the cunting politicians.

The message here is simple - immature imagination > mature sensability.

Marc