Trick please…

Come on then you pasty-faced nylon-tracksuit wearing little shitheads in your crappy Woolworth's masks thrusting forward your grubby little paws in the expectation of sweets or, more to the point, cash (it seems from the demands of the local 'yoof' in my area) show me your "trick".

You aren't getting a treat from me, this is not America. Demanding money with menaces is not cute. As if there aren't enough of you little sacks of puke letting off fireworks til 3am every night without banging on my front door all frigging night whilst I'm trying to watch a movie after a 12 hour day at work.

So - show me your trick - bearing in mind I have come to the front door in MY Halloween costume (DM boots, boiler suit, Voorhees-style hockey mask and large kitchen knife) let's see what you've got???

Hey - come back......

Where are you going?

Why are you running off looking petrified? I thought I was supposed to be scared by your little Halloween pranks?

Hmmmm. Wonder if they'll be back next year.

Oh - and parents - if your kids ARE going to go "trick or treating" (how can three words be a verb?!!) then have the decency to accompany them on a cold dark night when they are effectively wandering around the neighbourhood knocking on strangers' doors and playing the role of every paedophile's fantasy.

"Hey mister....you got any treats for me?"

Irresponsible idiots.

It's quite simple.

There are too many wars, too many pub fights, too much civil unrest, too many arguments. People are always fighting.

We need to do something to promote peace and I thought about a march or a protest or some campaign but that all seems like a great deal of hassle to be honest. However - wanking is something we all do, at least once a day, and it's fun (I assume everyone does do it at least once a day, right?!?). So why not wank for peace?

I suggested this idea to a few people and they said that they couldn't actually see how it would help. None of them questioned my enthusiasm for wanking nor my commitment to peace, but they couldn't see how it would help.

Well, here's how. War is about aggression. Fights start because people have too much pent-up aggression. What better way to release it than a good old fiddle!? These warmongering lunatics are primarily religious types - and their leaders are ususally revered Religious icons. And what do senior religious figures all have in common? They're celibate. They get no sexual release. It all builds up and they get aggressive.

So I say let's all have a wank - everyone - and encourage your friends and family to do it too. Be careful how you phrase it and which of your friends and family you address your comments to or you could have a really awkward meal time.

So - one and all - come forth and come forth - let us wank for peace.

We thought they were long forgotten but Survivor return to prove that we have actually forgotten ourselves - yet they remember all things.

This album is just a stone’s throw from the seminal “Eye of the Tiger” but it’s also miles away - as if it were right at the bottom of a field and you were the other side of the farmhouse, wincing.

The collection of songs on offer are steadfast, good old fashioned rock-by-numbers rock - and you can’t argue with that. But then - Survivor don’t want to argue with you - they want to take you on a trip that is nostalgic, but also modern in a really not nostalgic way.

The contradiction is beautiful and it tickles, with the tracks coming at you one by one like scorned lovers from your past turning up on your doorstep night after night to remind you of your indiscretions and poor table manners. The sound conjures up images of a manatee on a skateboard honking with delight as it ollies it’s way into all of our hearts and, dare I say it, all of our tomorrows.

Buy this album - if only for the reason that you want to listen to the songs on it. And don’t say I didn’t warn you!
(because I just did - just then, in that last bit)

1. Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are flat?

2. Why do men believe you when you say there are four billion stars in the sky, but they have to check when you say the paint is wet or the plate is very hot?

3. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

4. Why do they use sterilised needles for death by lethal injection?

5. Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

6. Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

7. Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?

8. If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

9. If it's true that we are here to help others, what are the others doing here?

10. Do married people live longer than single ones or does it only seem longer?

11. If someone with a split personality threatens to commit suicide, is it a hostage situation?

12. What level of importance must a person have, before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?

13. How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on big suitcases?

14. Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up every two hours?

1. Cheggars cant be boozers.

2. Laughter's the best medicine. Unless you're asthmatic, and then its ventolin.

3. People who live in glass houses shouldn't masturbate with the lights on.

4. Tact is for people who aren’t clever enough to take the p*ss.

5. When your wife/girlfriend asks you to "be totally honest" she doesn't actually mean it. What she meant to say was, "tell me exactly what I want to hear and make it sound convincing."

6. There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.

7. Dogs have owners. Cats have staff.

8. Don’t go to Nuneaton. It's not the end of the world, but you can see it from there.

9. Everyone has at least one great novel in them. Except Dan Brown.

10. The one who smelt it dealt it.

11. DJs - Impress people by learning a real instrument. Alternatively, shut up, take your record-player and f**k off.

12. If you are a necrophiliac sadomasochist who enjoys bestiality, you may as well give it up. You're flogging a dead horse.

13. If at first you don't succeed, pay someone else to do it.

14. Who says men can’t multi-task. What about w@nking and moving the mouse at the same time?

15. There’s no sadder feeling than accidentally leaving your mobile at home all day and then returning to find you have no texts or missed calls.

16. Americans: No, that’s not irony. That’s called a co-incidence. There is a difference.

17. Organised people are just too lazy to look for things.

18. A true friend will never say 'I told you so'; they will just pour you a stiff drink and listen.

19. Never, EVER, mix sleeping pills & laxatives.

20. There are 10 types of people in this world. Those who understand binary and those who don't.

21. The phrase "What are you, some kind of c**t?" can only ever be used as a rhetorical question. Unless you’re at a fancy dress party where the theme is genitalia.

22. Under no circumstances should two men ever share an umbrella.

Not a bad programme - little documentary about the edges of the country where they meet the sea. Splendid.

The long-haired Scottish fella who presents it is okay too. I'm not about to start a rant about him though. So why am I mentioning him you ask?

It's that bag - that man-bag he carries with him all the time. On screen he always has it with him. Why? TV presenters on location have a team of people who do the camera work, sort the lighting, directing, food, drink etc and a general runner who does all the odds and sods. If the presenter needs stuff - they sort it for him - he doesn't need to carry it round with him in his own little bag.

So why does he carry it? Well.....either he has it for effect - to be a little trendy f**ker and make a fashion statement. However, his kagoul and Marty Pellow haircut would tend to suggest he's not a Hoxton fashion type.

So - the only other reason can be......it's got his special precious stuff in it. There must be a collection of items he holds dear in some sort of weird clingy way - or they're just too secret to let anyone else carry and he needs them at all times.

So what's in the bag? Porn mags and a bag of special toffees and a picture of his childhood sweetheart who is now married to an engineer in Hartlepool? Is it his special hammer for cleaning the streets and some rubber gloves and bleach? Is it the Turin shroud? Is it a huge bag of E's for when the show gets dull and he needs to boost his enthusiasm levels before the next interview with some bloke pointing at lichen on a rock?

I wish I knew.

I like coffee. Not that instant shite - that bears no real relation to coffee.

I like ground coffee beans with hot water on them. Except it's a hassle to make. So I was most pleased to discover coffee bags. Ground coffee - in a bag. Like tea bags!!! Brilliant - easy to use and I'm surprised they haven't been around longer.

Except they are each individually wrapped in a foil packet in a great big box which seems utterly pointless when they could be in a single big foil pack - just a gimmick if you ask me.

Then I noticed the other day what was written on each packet - right next to the tiny little slit.

"Tear here" ???? No - that would be too easy.

"Tear here to open" ????- no - far too straightforward.

How about "Tear gently to free your coffee bag"

WTF!?!?! Tear it GENTLY to FREE your coffee bag. What sort of nonce idiot dreams that stuff up!?! I'm not drinking it any more out of principle because idiots write nonsense on the packets.

Please, please, PLEEEEASE...........

If you have children under the age of 4, don't take them on aeroplanes unless you have taught them some form of discipline. Those of us who sensibly choose not to go on long haul foreign trips with small kids have no way of escaping your screaming little shits for several hours you selfish, small-minded fools.

If they are under 12 months old it is hardly their fault if they are crying or whatever - but why take them on a foreign holiday???

When I was little we went to Wales or Cornwall in the car so that our tantrums were only inflicted on our parents who CHOSE to be shut in a form of transport with us.

So - wait til they're over four and not prone to crying/squealing and then you won't ruin the flight for SEVERAL HUNDRED PEOPLE, MANY OF WHOM ARE TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP AND NONE OF WHOM CAN GET AWAY FROM YOUR WAILING LITTLE BANSHEES.

Oh yes - and in the brief time I have spent in two pubs since the smoking ban came in I've noticed that now they are no longer smokey, unhealthy places to be - more parents are bringing their fucKing kids into the pub.

Not the big chain, diner-style, happy to have kids there type pubs - but decent proper pint and a game of darts REFUGE FROM THE FAMILY type pubs.

Having a pint should be accompanied by fags, darts and blue jokes, not the screams of children and women glaring at you for swearing because little Milly is nearby doing her colouring in and having a glass of coke.

I don't hate kids - well, actually I do - but isn't it best that they are either
(a) taught to behave; or
(b) not forced by their parents to spend 11 hours on a plane

Trust me - when you're 3 you can have as much fun in Devon as Disney World.

No, I didn't think so.

So why are you wearing shades indoors? You sad, deluded tool.

If you were Keith Richards, or Ozzy or Steven Tyler - you could get away with it. But you're not. You're some chav lad with a spiky haircut in a bar who thinks he's it.

Well stop it. Anyone who is not in a band who wears shades indoors is a total and utter arse-wipe.

John Denver’s latest album pukes out of the speakers and into our homes like the purest statement of intent. “I’m not f**king dead, you lot” he seems to say. Although he doesn’t ever say that.

The album begs the question….but never proffers the answer(s). And therein lies its beauty - albeit a really frustrating beauty whose face you want to scratch with handfuls of straw.

It fills your ears but never involves your eyes or mouth. It’s a collection of words and chords and bits of stuff that sounds like an orchestra of windmills laughing at the notion that Todd Carty could ever have a successful spin-off series from Eastenders when his character is essentially two-dimensional and relies wholly on interaction with characters that are already well-established.

I think that Tony Parsons summed up our loss most succinctly when he wrote the words “Oh you bloody plane you. Bloody bad bloody plane. So much you did rob us of with this dear sweet man whom you took from us”.

Yes.

Well, as I went to my place of work today certain civic buildings were coned off so you can't pick up or drop off outside them. Vehicles can pass by down the road as normal, but the bit next to the pavement outside the building is cordoned off.

With the terrorist burning jeep hopeless nonsense that did nothing other than singe the occupants and annoy the airport authorites, I guessed this was related. So I asked the nearby plod "Why is this coned off?"

Reply "To stop people who may be car bombers"

But of course. I should have known that if you are hurtling at high speed towards the entrance of a large civic building in a 4x4 packed with half a ton of explosives, that a row of 18 inch high yellow cones with "Police" written on them will stop the impact.

Why do they bother? Or do they think terrorists are real sticklers for Highway regulations and will think "Well, I was going to park my car outside the council house there and detonate it, but if I were to stop I would be breaching the local parking by-laws and that's n ot what I'm about. No, sir. I'm a law-abiding suicidal maniac intent on murdering dozens of innocent civilians".

Or (and stop me if I'm being cynical here) perhaps it's the government yet again trying to con us into thinking they are doing something useful about the problem by doing something noticeable yet useless.

How about a sensible look at our foreign policy and why it is we keep pissing off half the Muslim population of the world, rather than the sticking-plaster-on-a-severed-limb approach we currently have.

Not from a Mesa Boogie head with a Gibson SG jammed against it with the volume turned up to 11.......from people on e-bay.

I get something in the post from an e-bay seller and it's all in order and I write nice things on the feedback form because I think that's all very nice.

So.....I end up with two tickets to the Metallica show at Wembley this weekend and I can't go. So......do I flog them (they are front standing tickets - sold out section) on e-bay for a huge profit??

No - Buy It Now - face value and I don't even charge them postage. Some bloke purchases them and I send them First Class recorded delivery and at the same time e-mail him to let him know they have been sent and wishing him a very jolly time at what promises to be a stunning gig.

Nothing. No response, no feedback, nothing.

So I send another e-mail a week later asking politely if he got the tickets? Still nothing.

Before anyone thinks "he may be on holiday" - the gig is this weekend so I doubt it. He gets an absolute bargain for a sold out gig and I e-mail him twice to check he gets the tickets ok and I get no feedback.

What a c**t.

Hmm, maybe I should write that on his feedback?

Someone e-mailed me to ask what the hell I'm on about in my album reviews.

Let me explain briefly..........

I come from a generation that read Melody Maker, NME, Sounds etc and saw the emergence of music journalists as people who thought they had some great literary prowess or poetic turn of phrase. My view is shut up with the bollocks and tell me if the album is any good or not.

I explained that the likes of Paul Morley (and in her day as an NME scribe Julie Burchill) wrote such pretentious bullsh*t that I just gave up on their nonsense and took to reading reviews online. They would use ludicrous epithets, similes and metaphors to describe songs like they were mythical beasts or legendary masterpieces and something more than just - well - a song.

They would also do this really annoying thing of writing "it's as if they're trying to say...." and put their own interpretation on everything. They would suggest that some cheesey pop song was about the struggle of the Suffragettes or neo-classical philosophy when it was actually Lionel Richie singing about Dancing On the F**king Ceiling.

So I decided to write the same sort of thing - as pretentious and surreal and utterly pointless as the real thing. I thought I was getting carried away and just being silly until last week I saw a review by the one and only Paul Morley - of Brian Ferry's album.

I am so jealous. It is more ridiculous, pretentious and mental than anything I have come up with.

Please note - this is EXACTLY word for word as it appears on the liner notes for the CD..........
"Well aware of the lateness of the hour, the brightness of the day and the fullness of time, because ultimately there's no hurry - and a void to fill - the surefooted Ferry heads out into the black colossal brevity of the fourth track. With just the correct amount of transcendent grace he sings the song - which is just a song - and much more than a song, as if to say 'wherever I've been, whoever I've been, whoever I met - and it might have been me, it might have been you - whatever I've seen, whatever happens next - because it means a lot to me....It's been an absolute pleasure' "

What a c**t.

I went to Donington to enjoy the heavy metal festivities and noticed something that seemed to happen every time someone spotted themselves on the big screen as the camera swooped around the audience.

I kept seeing the side view of them as they waved/gurned/stuck their middle finger up. None of them were shown facing forwards. None of them twigged all weekend.

WAVE AT THE CAMERA, NOT AT THE SCREEN YOU F**KING MORONS.

Thank you.

I don’t know how to begin with a summary of the aural pleasures provided by The Offspring’s newest and, let’s be honest, brownest offering.

It immediately snaps at your heels the second you open the case and by the time you put it in your CD player it’s positively foaming at the mouth even though it doesn’t have a mouth in the literal sense.

Press play and fireworks go off like the end of a really lovely party in Nottingham - but be careful. Too many listens and you can find it’s more like a bad, bad accident with a sparkler and a child’s eyes.

This disc is the sound of the younger generation rebelling against the older generation but then reacting back against themselves in an even more rebellious way. It evokes images of rolled up newspapers being used to whack kittens into waste paper baskets like some lunatic croquet match.

And the only way to describe the lyrics is that they fall out of the speakers and prostrate themselves on the floor - demanding to be picked up, chewed and then spat into the face of anyone who dares to wear a uniform or call themselves a ‘citizen’.

This album demands to be heard. And then demands to be put away properly in its case and put back in the right place in your alphabetically arranged CD collection.

I know that has been said before, but McDonalds seem to have learned it's frigging irritating and stopped getting their staff to trot it out like a mantra if you choose not to order fries.

So why is everyone else doing it?

WH Smiths... "Would you like a half price chocolate orange with your magazine?"

"NO - I can see them sitting on the counter right in front of me in a desperate attempt to catch my eye as your stocks are massive and you need to get rid of them but I didn't buy one because I don't want one so just sell me my f**king magazine"

HMV do the same - they insist on offering me a half price dvd from the selection strewn across the counter right in front of me. I'm buying the new Deicide album - do you really think I want a copy of The Santa Clause on dvd?

I know it's what they're told to say by their bosses but come on - think about it - at least pick your target audience properly. Yesterday I was buying some wrapping paper for a birthday present. I stupidly picked the day before Mothers Day when all blokes, true to form, are leaving it to the last minute to buy a card for their Mums and so the queues were enormous.

And EVERY bugger who got to the till was being asked by the grinning fool behind the counter (whilst pointing at a garish, crappy LED in a bit of plastic on her right tit) "Would yer Mum like a flashin badge fer Mothers Day?".

Cunning you see. Not "Would you like?" but "Would your Mum like..." - making you immediately feel more reticent to say "No" as they're asking if your dear old Mum would like an extra gift or are you too tight to pay the extra £3.

Fortunately most people realise their Mothers would be mortified if they had to wear a small piece of yellow plastic that flashes and draws attention to them so sales were not going well. However, what really annoyed me (god knows why) was that they were asking everyone - no matter what they were buying.

If they asked people who were buying Mothers Day cards - that's not so bad - but to ask everyone.....well I felt the need to highlight the pointlessness of their little marketing campaign.

I get to the counter..................."Would your Mum like a flashing badge - only £3????!!!!"

"Er.......no.......I don't think so. She died last month"

Stunned silence followed by very swift purchase of some wrapping paper.

Just seen a clip where they are explaining about teenage kids who have gone online and given a complete stranger (slightly saucy) photos of themselves, plus their phone number and home address and guess what - they turned out to be perverts, but their parents weren't monitoring their internet use so they didn't know.

And they want my money to stop it? Erm....NO!!!

You are 14 and have your own PC and need my charity money!?!?!?

If your parents can't be bothered to look after your welfare properly why the f**K should I?

I will give £30 to a childrens charity tonight instead but if a 14 year old girl is THAT stupid and her parents aren't monitoring her activities I have no sympathy (btw - nothing happened to her - they eventually sussed it was some 40 year old nonce). even if I did have sympathy why should I pay money to stop it happening. Can't they sell the dozy kid's PC and give the money to kids in Africa who have no clean source of drinking water? Children In Need should be saving the lives of kids like that not paying for dimwits to go on courses to tell them what their parents should be telling them which is not to post naked pictures of themselves on Facebook!

I despair.

I'll eat pancakes on whatever day I want to. So nob off.

Phil Collins prances back with a ruddy great twat of an album. It’s as gleeful as it is glib and, in many ways, makes you want to f**k something really thoroughly.

It’s as if the 1970’s never happened, but all the other decades happened twice. The songs lurch, leer and fart at us like petulant wasps intent on stinging the only person at the Regatta who’s actually allergic to wasp stings

The wall of bang and fizz that ripples out of the speakers is like the noise of Little Jimmy Krankee ageing as he/she/it begins to realise the hypocrisy of the cabaret circuit and wails longingly into a conch shell that’s been smeared with horse fat.

This album makes fools of us all.

Is it just me or has the whole damn country gone mad with the snow thing? How much of the news is going to be taken up with talk of snow? It's not news!!!

Sky even had their helicopter out showing us images of five chavs having a snowball fight on a hillside.

Excuse me, but, er, isn't there a war on and stuff?

The weather IS NOT NEWS. In fact it is SO not news that it even has its own section after the news - called "The Weather". So stop it.

Right now.

After all - it would seem more appropriate.

Being a big music fan I go to a lot of gigs. I remember the days when a booking fee was just that - a booking fee. To cover the cost of the people who answered the phone and took the booking. Couple of quid per order.

In the last few years it’s gone from a couple of quid per order, to per ticket an now it’s getting more and more. £5 per ticket for a gig at a major venue recently and then I went online and bought tickets for a big outdoor festival.

£8-50 per ticket booking fee. And I did all the work myself by booking online - nobody took my order or did anything.

Are you trying to get back at the e-bay tossers you singularly fail to combat by making your own extortionate profit on top of the ticket price? Yeah - join in the constant struggle to kill off live music despite a resurgence since the heady days of clubbing, raves and the like almost killed it in most small venues.

Oh and then on top of the booking fee there’s a £1-50 “admin fee”!!!! Is that the bit where the mugger kicks me in the balls AFTER I’ve already handed over my wallet and phone?!?

Still - the P&P was only £4-99 for two small pieces of paper in an envelope.

Arsebags.

I was strolling past a rather dim and dodgy pub today - you know the sort - big chain pub in the centre of a big city - full of people drinking dawn til dusk or until their giro money runs out. Not that I’m stereotyping.

Anyway - there was a rather charming poster in the window with the headline “Treat her” underneath which was a picture of two bits of meat cut into heart shapes nestling together.

Underneath it said “Two steaks for £9-99 14th Feb”.

Marvellous.

Mind you, I did think perhaps the poster was incomplete and the headline should have had a few more words after “Treat her” - such as “like shit” or “with contempt”.

Nothing says “I love you” better than steak and chips. And what a bargain price too. As long as she pays her half, of course.

C**ts on e-bay that sell tickets. You're all c**ts. F**king c**ts. Not to put too fine a point on it.

I wanted to go and see David Gilmour last year - the man's a genius. Never seen him or Pink Floyd live.

Could I buy a ticket? No, I f**king couldn't because his entire tour sold out in four and a half f**king seconds because eight tickets were bought by fans and the other 48,000 were bought by c**ts who wouldn't know a Pink Floyd tunes if it f*ked them up the arse but think they can make a quick buck out of it.

So - the genius guitar bloke who I was desperate to see because of his finely crafted work and skill and talent - gets 45 quid per ticket - and another 250 on top goes to some f**king leech with a computer and no life or proper job.

And although I could afford it I refused in principle to pay those prices. And e-bay refuse to do anything about it due to the tidy profit they make.

Eventually managed to get tickets via a friend of a friend, but was incredibly hard and many other people had no such luck. Many other gigs I've wanted to see recently have involved being online and on the phone the second the tickets go on sale frantically calling and hitting refresh on the PC in the vain hope of getting two sh*tty tickets right at the back.

If you sell tickets on e-bay for a profit - EVER - no matter what the reason or how much you need the cash - YOU ARE SCUM. You are living off other people's talent and depriving genuine fans from getting to see their heroes. The richest get to see the good bands, not the keenest fans.

You suck and what goes around comes around.

Right - this is genuine and serious. I'm not being flippant or sarcastic and there is no punchline coming.

I went to a bar the other night and there were two poster ads in the gents toilets above the urinals. One showed a woman's groin area - with a "No Entry" sign on her knickers.

The other showed a burly bloke sitting in a prison cell - looking at the camera and said something like "If you don't make sure your partner says "yes" to sex - then the next person who has sex with you may not care if YOU say "yes" or not!!!"

Have we, as a society, (and in particular our binge-drinking youth culture) sunk SO low into a moral rut that we need SIGNS IN THE BOGS AT THE PUB REMINDING US NOT TO RAPE ANYONE?!?!

For f**ks sake!

I despair.

Why do people do it? There's always people running near where I live. Not for any reason - not trying to catch a bus or a mugger that's run off with their wallet. Just running along the street, sweating - and usually listening to an i-pod - because clearly they find running boring.

There is no need for it. We can keep fit by playing competitive games. We used to run and there used to be a point to it but surely we have evolved beyond that now that we are civilised modern people!?!

Running was invented for one of two reasons:

1. Something that wanted to eat you was chasing you
2. You were chasing something you wanted to eat

Having seen no sabre-tooth tigers or gazelles in my local high street I figured anyone who does run around the town is probably mental.

Fine - companies spend money on research and development - increasing market share by bringing out new and unique products that are fresh, exciting and innovating, but in the world of savoury snacks this is NOT NECESSARY. Just stop it.

We have Crisps*, Nuts, Pork Scratchings, Twiglets and Mini Cheddars. That's all we need. The 5 basics.

(*includes Wotsits, Quavers, Monster Munch etc)

We then get Scampi Fries and we get Pretzels from USA and Tortilla Chips and Pringles too. Ok - I can live with that.

But it's starting to get silly now - new snack developments that we simply don't need. Pack it in. This isn't the space race - you make cheesey footballs or crispy things to dip in runny things at parties.

For instance Pringles are introducing Pringles Prints - crisps with facts and trivia printed on them. FFS.

http://www.pringles.com/pages/pringles_print_main.shtml

It would now seem the Pringle will be smarter than the person eating it.

And then America's answer to Cheesey snacks - Cheez-It have another new development, namely "Twisterz". If you click the link you will see they are a new snack that combines TWO flavours for a unique taste sensation.



Two flavours? TWO?

We all see these days how the main political parties become more and more marginalised and new "Single Issue" parties spring up such as UKIP and The Green Party and the Respect Coalition etc, but they don't get enough votes to have any sway or catch the attention of enough of the electorate.

If we started a Snacks and Pop Regulation Party aimed at bringing in stricter guidelines for manufacturers we'd have the whole country behind us.

"Do you want to know our stance on Iraq? Or PFI? Or Education reforms? We haven't f**king got one. No stance - no policy. Not even a vaguely quotable opinion. But we'll sure as shit stop them fannying about making new types of crisps, adding aspartame to pop and taking the E-numbers out of Tizer" (Really pisses me off that does - Tizer was just artificial flavours and colours dissolved in sugary water - it's pointless without them).

We'd be voted in with a landslide majority. Come on people - these are the REAL issues that affect our day-to-day lives. They stopped making Wispa bars and re-branded them as Dairy Milk Bubbly in a normal chunks-bar-type product. They changed Opal Fruits to "Starburst". They changed Marathon to "Snickers". Jif is now "Cif".

Are we gonna stand for this shit or are we going to march on Westminster declaring "No more innovations in snacks (and bathroom mousse cleaning agents) and fizzy pop" ???

Tim, that is.

He is such a terrible fake and so dreadfully lame and genuinely doesn't seem to appreciate that he is about as cool as Fonzie.

No - correct that - Fonzie is much cooler. Westwood's about as cool as the Chuckle Brothers.

In a recent issue of Q Magazine he surpassed himself in new levels of pretentious white middle aged, middle class tool trying to sound "gangsta". He was asked about his current favourite tune which he said was a remix of Soul Survivor by Akon...............

"As a club DJ - I rock bangers that create crazy excitement in the party. The original was a hood classic so they made me a 'special' - a revoiced version dedicated to me. Shit is straight banging! Trap music meets J.A. shottas. It's an ugly situation."

That made me so angry I had to set fire to an old lady. And her dog.

Now look what you've made me do Timothy!




What a c**t.

My word! Terence Trent D'Arby slams back like a greased fist - with an album that provokes us into a vertical position and never lets up until it’s done.

Once again he’s proving that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can teach someone else’s two-year-old child to say “Vulva” at breakfast.

The pieces of music that form this round platter snuggle up against one another so tightly it’s as if they’re second cousins who are worryingly close in a ‘not-illegal-but-may-produce-web-toed-children’ kind of way.

The ear is treated to a lilting brace of melodies that remind you of the sounds heard the first time you ventured secretly into the abattoir to see where Uncle Maurice worked only to find him with his arm entirely inside a dead lamb, as if it were a glove puppet, wanking himself off with its lifeless jaws.

And this means only one thing - Mr. D'Arby has yet again set the standard for modern soul music just like James Brown and Sir Edward Heath before him.

If you only buy one album this year, then buy this one. But if you buy two, then get The Kooks and The Feeling. And just borrow this off a mate or get a tape of it or something.

I have now got to the point where this year - any card I get with glitter on goes straight in the bin, regardless of who sent it. It's mainly work colleagues and of those it's usually girls, but family ones will be binned too. Can't even recycle them ladies! Tut tut. If you're a bloke sending cards with glitter on you need a slap anyway.

So - for those people who send me cards with glitter on - f**king stop it you dozy gits. It gets everywhere! It's a huge pain in the arse and it should be banned.

The second I get a card and feel that rustly glittery feel I begin to get annoyed - even before I've opened it. It's usually got bits of glitter on the outside of the envelope anyway as the idiot who sent it will have glitter all over their hands.

It ends up on my hands and on my suit and it won't wash off - sticks like a batstard. Before you know it you've rubbed your eye or scratched your nose and it's on your face.

Thank you very cocking much! I look great at work speaking to my boss with glitter on my face and suit. What am I supposed to say?

"Sorry boss, I'm being festive"

And don't even get me started on the stupid amount of bows and ribbons and shit people put on presents.

Give it me in a f**king bag or some cheap wrapping paper and spend the extra £5 you wasted on ribbons and bows on getting me a decent f**king present next time you twat.

Merry Christmas btw.

Never know what to get her.

This year I thought I'd try something different and original: Vouchers for a boob job!

Nothing wrong with the size - they’re perfect.

There should just be more of them.

I mean, 3 would be cool, but 4 would be ACE!!! An extra one in the middle and then a spare round the back between her shoulder blades.