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Friday, December 24, 2004

The Festive Friday Fuckwit!


#26 The Mighty Crumb
Elusive, Non-blogging, No Michael Stipe Fuckwit



I'm not going to tell you why I haven't posted since the 3rd. Primarily because in recent times this interweb site has become less a blog, more a series of lame excuses and apologies for non-blog. There is a reason - email me if you give a shit (or even a yuletide log).

Anyhow. 'Twas the office Christmas party last Friday. An all day knees-up at the Thistle hotel in Bristol followed by dancing and karaoke in a club.

Last year I gave a well-received rendition of 'Let Me Entertain You' by Robbie Williams. I think it was the general performance rather than my actual singing that was celebrated. Although I did sing it quite well it just so happens, as I've remarked before, that I am 1 of only 4 blokes in an office full of women - so the 20 of them who were groping me as I warbled certainly contributed to the enjoyment. Nonetheless - I got plenty of compliments, which was nice.

The trouble is that karaoke is now a serious business, I had set the standard. And this year I had to follow it up. Nuts.

I came up with a list of songs that I could sing reasonably well and decided that I was going to go for either 'Sunny Afternoon' or 'Days' by the Kinks. Cool.

7 glasses of red wine and 5 pints of Guinness later I began looking at the list of available tracks.

No Kinks - ouch.

My pissed mind started desperately seeking a plan B...

No 'All Star' by Smash Mouth - double ouch.

No 'Some Might Say' by Oasis - ooooo fuck.

I briefly eyed 'Let Me Entertain You'. "No Crumb!" slurred by pride. It's been done, time to move on...

I made my choice, handed in my slip of paper, and retired to the bar to tuck into another Guinness for some Dutch courage. It wasn't long enough before I was called onto the stage...

"Ooooooooooooooooooooo Life
Is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no I've said too much..."

"You certainly have son" slurred my pride somewhere in my blottosphere.

"That's me on the stage
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my dignity
Trying to keep up with this tune
And I don't know if I can do it"

Fuckwit.


Merry Christmas and big love to all of you. I'm off to ding my dong merrily on high.

Friday, December 03, 2004

The Friday Fuckwit!


Firstly, can I offer my sincere apologies to those of you tuning in for your weekly dosage of ranting directed at an obscure celebrity. This week confess that I have clearly sold out to the world of reality TV and picked an obvious subject…

#25 Natalie Appleton
Spoilt, Ex-Saintly, Whiny, Appley Fuckwit



I shamefully admit to having been a bit of an avid viewer of the last series of IACGMOOH! I found Peter Andre painfully entertaining and enjoyed his pathetic attempts to pull Jordan. “You haven’t got a chance mate” I’d yell at the screen (yeah, what an idiot eh? – d’oh!). Also, there was the added incentive of a potential eyeful of said lady’s plastic nubs.

I haven’t seen a great deal of this series, I don’t really find any of the inmates particularly interesting. Nonetheless, the performance of Twatalie has not passed by unnoticed.

Whinge after whinge, moan after moan, this pathetic brat obviously took about as long to consider what the jungle might actually be like as it takes Vanessa Feltz to decide whether to visit the cake shop. Unfortunately for Nat, her thoughts were focused purely on the wad of cash ITV have no doubt thrust into her irritating little palm. The first day she vomited in the helicopter, cried when she saw a spider and screamed when her leg brushed against a tree. It’s a facking jungle for crying out loud!

I think it was Janet Street Porter who remarked “Can you believe she has given birth twice?”

With Nat clearly suffering and uncomfortable, the fabulously harsh British public voted for her to do the first challenge, which was essentially a tightrope walk. Okay, bloody scary if you’re not that good with heights, but talk about a drama queen! She actually did very well, but because she made such a song and dance about the whole charade, the fact that she had overcome her fears and accomplished something she never thought she would was immaterial, I just wanted her to fuck off!

Evidently too stupid to realise that her relentless moaning wasn’t coming across very well on the telly, Natalie decided against keeping her gob shut and instead elected to continue to behave like a spoilt child. In fact, she pissed off the audience so much, she was voted to do FIVE out of the first seven unspeakable challenges. Anyone out there who voted, I applaud you.

And then, just when you thought she couldn’t damage her image any further, when faced with her fifth challenge, she quit the show! Well done Nat – who needs dignity? Don’t worry that you won’t be able to hold your head up high, doesn’t matter that you’ve proved what a sore loser you are. They tried to break you, and succeeded. Probably best to put any thoughts of a career re-launch on that back-burner for the time being…

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Deodo - rant!


There's no such thing as 'the Lynx effect'.

I bought Lynx for years, but no buxom cavegirl ever tried to 'bump and grind' with me*.

So thesedays, rather than forking out goat-loads of cash purely for the brand name, I favour some of the lower-profile products on the market.

Just recently I have moved onto 'Right Guard - Xtreme Sport' and my flavour of choice is 'pure adrenaline'.

What a load of bollocks. Why don't they give these things proper names?

I tell you what, if a cosmetic company had the guts to bring out a body spray called 'Right Git - Xtremely reluctant to run unless late for the train' I'd be first in the queue at Boots.


(* the one way system near my flat is rather complex. So if you are a buxom cavegirl trying to come over and rub my third leg please persevere.)

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