Archive for December, 2009

She’s Fit (But The Music’s Shit)

Good Evening and welcome to another re-treading into the musical myriad mastery of a very cynical and well-worn individual who’s views have been described as bordering on “impressive”.

Besides this hasn’t been aired for a while and there have been so many who have passed through the charts, by the radar and then disappeared into obscurity just as fast. Sigh. Kate Nash, where are you now? Married to a Crib? Fair enough.

Tonight’s eyes fall on the lovely Tula “Tulisa” Contostavlos from Kevin’s favourite group N-Dubz. According to Wikipedia, because this is where I get most of my general knowledge, Miss Contostavlos is of Greek and Irish heritage and by far the prettiest member of the group. Hands down. You might think she was drafted in to fill up the hottie side of things but she more than pulls her weight with fellow band mates Dappy and erm Fazer.

 

That said I can’t really admit to any sort of admiration for the group in the slightest. With lyrics like, “Like a crack baby being born addicted to the needle, So much evil in people, Dappy said it 1st so I guess that im the sequel,” and “A-List, Play list, Even My Mums Famous, I Would Do Anythin’ for Some Source Stadium Status,” they’re not really going for an Ivor Novello but hey, who wants one of them? Snow Patrol got one. Tut tut Ivor Novello…

You won’t find me playing it. You will however find me staring at Tulisa at every available opportunity.

(picture borrowed from femalefirst.co.uk)

2 comments December 11th, 2009

So You Want To Learn How To Eat Beets?

So, you want to learn how to eat beets? Eating beets is not an easy thing. You can’t just pick them up and start mowing away like a man with a lawn. There is a subtle art and delicate nature to the eating of the beets and we are happily here to show you how.

Let’s start from the beginning. Fundamentally there are three ways to eat beets. The most common is the wrong way. The less most common is the right way. The one that flits about in the middle is the more less common but less more common than the other two way. For today’s seminar, if you can call it a seminar, we will focus on the less most common method, for it is the least known of the three.

What is a beet? Where do they come from? How do they arrive? We don’t have time for all the facts so we’ll say this: they do arrive safely and unharmed during the night. Are beets held hostage? Of course not. That would be silly.

Moving on now, the history of the beet is brief. They arrived in 1997 after too many people complained that the carrot was becoming too popular. Some believe it was multi-millionaire Frans Buldishot who bred a turnip with a bottle of purple colour dye to come up with the beet, which has since been confirmed as true. Beets are popular in most countries, including Guatamala.

So without further a do we can kindly guide you into the eating of beets. You want to know and we want to tell you. This is why these things work so well. It’s simple; the best way to eat beets is to not at all because they taste like sh*t.

4 comments December 10th, 2009

Newsboost Zoom Flume – Literal Music Buffoon Strikes Faux Pas

News has been flooding in from across the globe as the Newsboost team is alerted to the fact that news doesn’t just happen on their doorsteps; it steps out of those cushy £1000.00 a month batchelor pads and into the streets, then takes a quick flight to somewhere abroad like Gibralter Gibratlor Spain and sets up shop quicker than Diane Lane.

Over in America it has been reported that a man from Houston, Texas has been taking songs a little too literally. Javis Jarmedy, 33, is well-known in the state for having an eccentric personality and sense of humour. Since being bought a radio on his last birthday in July he has been exposed to a wealth of musical bounty such as Huey Lewis and the News and Lindisfarne. Unfortunately this has had an adverse effect on Mr Jarmedy: in the last week alone he has spent 48 hours coming up with all the things he would do for love, wrote 17 letters to Bonnie Tyler confirming he was the hero she was looking for and sold most of his possessions, including his house, to sit quietly on top of a Bible in the hope that it would get the attention of Bon Jovi. Which it didn’t.

“I don’t regret any of my actions,” a slightly worse for wear Mr Jarmedy told local press, “I’ve spent most of my life doing things I couldn’t be ding dang bothered with and well sir, this finally makes sense. Shoot me if I’m wrong!”

It got worse though. For six days in September Mr Jarmedy trawled through every Walmart in the surrounding area, putting rings on all the things that he liked. It took the staff several minutes to remove all of the jewellery before escorting him off the premises. Due to bad security though Mr Jarmedy would continually sneak in the back and carry on with his quest until the workers were alerted to his presence again. “He’s a f*cking nusiance!” confirmed one attractive piece of a*s.

The local law enforcers have been put on notice of his behaviour and if Mr Jarmedy carries on in this fashion he will be put away for up to and including several hours for wasting police time. “I am more than happy with that,” he concluded before laughing at a fifty dollar bill and walking off with a black cloud under his arm.

December 9th, 2009

Moo

This is what needs to happen with all cows, worldwide. Its reaction tells you everything. Man is happy, cow is happy. What could be more worthwhile?

5 comments December 8th, 2009

Disney Villains – Scar from ‘The Lion King’

Having recently watched a copy of ‘The Lion King’ which was not hastily bought from Ebay for twenty quid or more nor a bad illegal copy without the shiny shiny on the front, I thought it was time to see just how bad the main bad guy from the film was. Bad bad.

Eighty-five minutes is not a long time to whip some shizz up but Scar seems to do it quite well. Having waited for the right moment to unleash hell, which sees his brother become king  and then his nephew become the heir to the throne, he then waits even longer until the child is at the gullible age to believe he actually gives a damn. Thankfully we are spared the long silences where Scar sits, rolls over, scratches his welcomes and thinks, “F*cking hell, this is taking forever!”

First he sends Simba off to the elephants graveyard in the hope the hyenas will eat his face off, then he perfects a plan whereby his brother gets run over by a herd of buffalo on the M1 and pushes Simba out of the pride hanging a huge cloud of guilt over the small boy’s head (as he makes him believe he is responsible for his dad popping his clogs). Scar then promptly takes over, brings in his army of hyenas and proceeds to eat everything within a five mile radius.

In the end with everything hanging in the balance, and Simba still a force of nature despite being turned into a namby-panby insect eating hippie by Timon and Pumbaa, Scar slips up and reveals it was his dastardly plan to kill Mufasa. Then the hyenas tear him to bits.

All in all he does do a very good job. Not quite Cruella DeVille of course however with the standard British baddie accent you can never do wrong. 8 out of 10.

December 7th, 2009

Bring Us Up To Date With…

Ian’s Christmas Party

Weren’t there? Well now you can be. Here is the 384 word version of what happened through the eyes of someone who was there but also in some ways wasn’t. Let’s start from the briefest of beginnings:

“I started off early. It was only 5pm and I’m buying a bottle of Jack Daniels, walking briskly through the streets and by coincidence I bump into the three guys from work I was looking for. They’re in a rush to get to the World Cup draw – I’m following because I’m not the person with a room at the hotel.

Inside and the bottle of Jack is gone in about an hour and a half, and that’s me taking it slowly. The room isn’t whirling but my balance has been compromised. They get ready and I sit feeling slightly under-dressed in my dark blue t-shirt, grey jeans and steampunk goggles.

I don’t remember how we got to the ground floor but it must have been the lift. I get outside and meet the people from my team – they can tell I’ve been drinking if not from the smell then surely by the slightly slurred speech and red cheeks. Inside moves quickly. Between initial hellos the first course is brought and I’m ordered to drink my soup. I think I had a conversation with my boss that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. I pretend I ordered the chicken and tuck in. I hope whoever got my beef is enjoying it.

There is a blur and an empty space where the desserts should be.

Plenty of dancing wildly to various guff the DJ plays. I drink some more, red wine from the bottle, occasionally handing it to my now equally drunk friend. I make out one of the senior partners in the middle of the floor. A lot of people stand around the side probably too afraid to chance it. I don’t really care anymore and continue drinking until I am in a delirious state of bewilderment. My steampunk goggles seem to be popular and disappear for half an hour.

When the f*ck did they serve the desserts?

It’s approaching the end. The last five hours obviously weren’t long enough. No amount of sensible behaviour and coffee will bring this yuletide bender to an end. After another hour of drinking alcohol other people have been kind enough to buy me I feel too distanced from the rest of the crowd and make my own disappearance into the night. I’m home in twenty-five minutes.”

8 comments December 6th, 2009

Florence and the Hype Latrine

Sometimes I feel like covering other people’s songs.

Sometimes I feel like the hype just isn’t justified.

Sometimes I feel like selling out.

Sometimes I feel like releasing a deluxe four disc edition of my debut album which is entirely unnecessary as it features the same ten songs over and over again.

Sometimes I should just stop.

(Musical parody and rant done with. To continue and resume again shortly.

Plus, have you seen her face? I wish I hadn’t. FACT)

12 comments December 5th, 2009

Uncomfortable Conversations With Strangers: #729 – Takeaway

Stood in the takeaway after going to Digital at about half two in the morning. The pizza has been ordered and it’s taking longer than it should. I spy a strange looking man stood directly opposite me and even though I’m watching the awful music video on the TV behind him I can tell he thinks I’m looking at him and debating whether or not to come over and start a…

“You know that food shop two places down?”

Erm yeah.

“Don’t go in there. The guy touches himself up whilst he’s doing the food. Behind the counter when you’re not looking he’s doing it. You believe me, don’t you?”

Of course I do man.

“It’s disgusting, it’s just disgusting. Touching yourself and doing the food and… it’s disgusting…”

He then proceeds to wander off with his equally odd-looking friend.

I didn’t sign up for that.

8 comments December 4th, 2009

This is what you need

Here’s a song I wrote about Sandi Toksvig, Radio 4’s resident Danish lesbian, a few years ago.

Clickety clickety click!

It crashed Ian’s computer, which indicates that it was not influenced by the Clash.

6 comments December 3rd, 2009

Here’s a Joolly Thought

Okay kids, this is the way we do our do and we do it good.

Here’s the challenge: 31 days in December. That’s a FACT. Here’s another FACT: December has already started. Yes, more FACTs than you can shake a stick at. I’ve never shook a stick before. FACT.

The challenge is to post a post on every single day of December, even on the Christmassy ones like 25th and 31st and all that. Not one post per person per day, that would be insane, but as long as one of us can post something each day to fill December in its entirety then that would bally well tickle me loins in delight in a non-s*xual way of course.

WHO’S WITH ME?

8 comments December 2nd, 2009

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