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Neither topical or insightful, it's time to ramble on...
by The Rumpo Kid
Rather than do a special for their 400th episode, team Simpson’s decide to make a full blown movie. Let’s face it, the Simpson’s has probably been one of the funniest programmes ever made but the last few years it’s been pretty lame, by it own standards of course. You’ll still watch it, maybe not as religiously as you did 10 years ago but there will still be a few throw away gems that will make you chuckle and therefore make the 20 or so minutes worth while. And that is exactly how the Simpson’s Movie pans out. It good but not great. There are some laugh out loud moments but not too many. The script is one that any hackneyed Simpson’s aficionado could have penned. Homer makes a boo-boo, the town want to lynch him, he castigates his family in the process, his family disown him, and he wins their hearts back, the end…
Is that fella kidding or what? First thing this ted does when he gets out is shave his head, the vain buzzard. Then he yaks on about how hard it was not knowing if he was going to see the next day etc. On a radio 4 interview he went on about his suffering, many hours spent in solitary confinement in his one bedroom apartment with en suite bathroom and cosy little kitchenette, hardly f***n Papillion pal, GET OVER IT. And what about the kidnappers? The shame of kidnapping a British journo and then not beheading him during the half-time show of ‘Oops, wheres My Falafal. The charlatans have probably put themselves up for kidnapping because there’s no way they’d be able to pop down the PLO Legion for a can of Fanta Limon for fear of shame (more on incompetent terrorist below). Of course, Alan will get over it, the only way a half baked hack knows how, with a book deal serialised in some pseudo intellectual broad sheet. I’ll make sure the book gets panned, I make sure Thornton does the review ‘…I don’t want you to actually read it Phil, just imagine what it could be like then stick the boot in.’
Concert for Dead Person Birthday and That Global Warming Thing
I don’t know what pissed me off more about this garbage, the fact that license payers money was stumped up for the spectacle or the fact the ‘stars’ decided to promote their own ‘new’ material when every man and his dead Princess only wanted to hear them sing ‘all the hits’. No surprise there like, Live Aid rejuvenated the fortunes of many who played, notably Queen, who went on to fly the flag of the right on brigade by playing sell out concerts in apartheid shackled South Africa! Anyway, the Diana thing bought a few schadenfruede moments those miserablists like myself pine for. The bloke out of Supertramp seemed to be under the impression she was still alive, scanning the royal box, I could have sworn he mouthed ‘hey, where’s the birthday gal?’ The mysterious absence of the runt during the gratuitous royal box shot every 30 seconds, Prince nice but dim holding the fort by doing very white person dance moves, he laughs and the royal sycophants join in like a bunch of inbred fraggles. Toward the end, Kate Middleton was picked out by the cheeky director. I don’t know, you’re one half of probably the most public break–up in recent years so where do you decide to lay low? Why in the royal box at a concert watched by millions of course! Her appearance on the Wembley jumbo-tron must have cringe-mendous for all, apart from the director who continued to flash her embarrassed mug on the screen every minute or so. The concert ended with something special. Cine-film footage of the Princess growing up to the strains of Queen’s ‘Those were the days’ or what ever it’s called. Unfortunately, the punters had had enough. It must have been galling for her sons to see their big finale watched by nobody. If it’s any consolation, it made me laugh…
Yeah, we don’t call it Global Warming anymore because that will mask the fact that it’s freezing in July. The worlds f****, Britian is experiencing monsoon weather which could last forever and there’s nothing we can do about it. Those who’ve had it so good now have the cheek to ask emerging nations like India and China to ‘think about the climate’. I’ve been to India, the majority of them live in sh**** and have done for thousands of years. Do you think they really care if the climate change fugs up weather patterns in blighty? See how you like it!
Bernard Manning and Mike Reid in one fail swoop. Busy time for the comedy grim reaper. For all his pitfalls, Bernard was a funny man. Yes he was a racist but he loved his mother so that’s okay. Frank Carson was wheeled out to give a eulogy on the news, close to tears he was berated by the talking head, who banged on that Bernard was racist, Frank’s tearful response was ‘what’s racist?’ Probably the funniest thing Frank’s ever said. Mike on the other hand wasn’t funny, unless he was playing Frank on Eastenders, then he was unintentionally hilarious. He did have a few good bands on Run-around though, g-g-g-gooooooooo!
Summer Without Football
I was that desperate for meaningless conversation with sport as an incidental backdrop that I went to watch Lancs v Sussex at Liverpool with a few like minded friends. Say what you like about this middleclass nothing ever happens excuse for a sport, but I loved it. Lancs got panned but it mattered little to this neutral. A few beers with good people, many of them with mental issues, that’s my idea of a great day out.
Size zero tolerance
Three, yes three programmes hit the screen hot on the heels of the latest Hollywood craze, the size zero. BBC2, ITV and Channel 4 all had their own take on the phenomenon that involved girls dieting to get into jeans that a six year old would wear. Yes, it’s as stupid as it sounds but that doesn’t stop firstly Jamie Redknapp’s other half Louise, determined to show the bad effects of eating a grape and few rounds of toast each day while you take on the exercise regime of a Decathlete in order to slip into something that would be tight on a whippet.
Gordon Brown texture like sun
Does it really matter? According to the press, Gordon has been wining hearts but using a new type of spin, no spin! You see, no spin is the new spin, like adding ice cubes to cider and convincing all unsundry that its not the staple of tramps but a trendy zietgiest drink (thumps up). I think it was Billy Bragg who once said not having a gimmick is gimmick in itself. I haven’t a clue if that’s relevant here but it sounds good. Hopefully ‘The Iron Chancellor’ in a moment of‘laissez-faire ‘ will swerve his glass eye in favour of a patch, like Moshe Dayan or Bowie.
Pete Doherty’s royal flush
He admitted to drinking while under the influence of crack, herion, pot, ketamine and ecstacy. I bet he wasn’t tested, he just admitted to taking all these to look cool. He’s managed to outrage the nation by…wait for it…taking drugs! Oh the horror.
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