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well, i expect you’re all relieved to see the back of the general election; for a few months at least.

how did you enjoy the wall-to-wall tv coverage? sadly, with exit polls achieving unnerving levels of accuracy, it soon became clear that almost all the excitement of the event had come and gone in the four week run-up. shame ;-(

to make matters worse, as if there wasn’t enough hot-air around at election time, sky tv subjected us to the nauseating spectacle of adam bloater’s repellant burp-fest, this time in glorious hd. cut down on the nose bag and ditch some ballast fat boy.

(surely high-time he was replaced by the lovely ‘botto’ of whom i caught no more than a tantalising half-second glimpse in some media melee)

at the bbc we were at least spared any repetition of the now-infamous ‘surreptitious mars bar incident’ which is widely believed to have set an incurable rot into election results reporting worldwide.

we were however forced, once again to endure repeated spasms of the ludicrous jeremy vine, lurching around like some deranged stick insect with his virtual toys.

mr mugabe called the bingo. mrs banana-republic and mrs lockout made the sandwiches and we sang ‘things can only get better’, which they probably won’t in a hurry, if ever.

miss bugger-off-home-now accompanied, one-handed on the harmonium and a good time was had by all.

looking forward to october’s return match already.

catch you later couch-potater :-0

i’m almost ashamed to be writing about this but last night’s semi-final of the bbc’s strictly come dancing took the piss a bit too far. or rather it’s simpering female audience did.

the public’s elimination of talented, elegant, leggy bill-actress ali bastion in favour of some cheruplegic sports monkey made my normally tepid blood boil. (well it warmed-up a bit)

i would have spat the dummy if my minders had not dipped it in special brew.

to be honesht i have not been sho angry shince the lasht time they forgot to dip my dummy in shpecial brew.

mine’sh a pint.

so ‘the apprentice’ returns to bbc tv perhaps for a series to far.

the candidates are the usual bunch of of up-themselves young gits and it’s a treat each year to watch them show the holes in their smug arses to an audience of millions, whilst speculating as to which will meet with most displeasure each week. obviously they deserve all the humiliation they get.

this week a baby-faced butty tycoon met his chicken marengo waterloo in the boardroom having, hilariously, failed at his own job. brilliant! extraordinary that even he could lose to an ‘award-winning restaurateur’ whose food i would not have offered to my pet pig. (alright; if i had one. don’t start)

but what’s this change i detect in the sucrose one? could it be that having exhausted his meagre repertoire of native ribaldry, some sap has been tasked to script gags for the business guru? is the great man, heaven forfend, scripting his own?

either way they ain’t working. sir al may have made a few quid but a stand-up, he ain’t.

take my advice, big-boy, “bang-bang and off”. ooh, missis, where’s me washboard?

oh please jacqui, no, you’re too kind! a gift like this is just too much! i’ve been waiting since i was an egg for any government to do me a favour but this story truly take the cake!

just when she might have hoped that the fuss over her disgusting second home expenses claims had faded into the background comes news that home (homes, surely?) secretary jacqui smith has claimed parliamentary expenses for the cost of viewing pornographic videos at her home. whether or not she enjoyed them remains undisclosed at this time. i think we should be told. (my little joke)

the cost? a trivial £10 you say. i say this might just be the wispy little straw which finally breaks the camel’s back of public opinion on this ever more sordid government.

of course the £10 is trivial; but that makes this claim more offensive, not less. the fact that they feel free to simply broad-brush even the most demeaning expenses of their trashy lives into the taxpayers’ lap is a perfect example of the contempt with which these grasping creatures treat the public purse, not to mention the public who fund it.

if, in the absence of her resignation, brown does not fire this woman now, i predict it will come back to bite his arse.

on a happier note, for me at least, i further predict that this tangy snackette is no more than an appetizer to the smorgasbord of disgrace sure to be disinterred when shortly, courtesy of the long overdue freedom of information arrangements, mp’s expenses are revealed wholesale.

lip smackin’.

so long sleazebags

prepare to be dazzled; i’ve had an idea for a great new tv game show.

“what’s the winning format?” you’re saying. alright already, let’s choose some lucky contestants first.

yeah, they’re lucky alright because they only need (1) an iq in single figures and (2) not to have been locked-up for their own safety. okay, assuming we can get enough of these jar-heads into a tv studio at any one time, the game can begin.

here’s how it works: each lucky contestant has to gaze aimlessly at the outside of a series of randomly numbered shit bags.

now, strap yourselves in because here’s where the killer format really kicks-in. for each bag, the preening, self-obsessed host with a joke 1960′s hairstyle, geography teacher beard and personality lifts enquires of the knuckle-dragger “shit, or no shit?”

needless to say our heroes give it their best shit, i mean shot.

when they’ve all done this so many times that the average viewer will have fallen into an irreversible coma, always assuming they weren’t in one before they tuned-in, a specially-appointed shit-counter with an iq in double figures goes to work, then tells the host who guessed correctly most times, and they get to take all the shit home.

of course, in reality the winner will always be the one who guessed “shit” most times, because obviously, it’s all shit!

holy shit, or no shit, it’s a winner!

wow! jeremy clarkson is mildly disrespectful to our sainted prime minister. hold the front page!

another case of much ado about nothing dominates the news media.

so no surprise there you might think, and you’d be right. knee-jerk outrage has lately become the standard reaction of the british press to the slightly off-colour utterances of any gob-on-a-stick, however low down the food chain. (more…)

wall-to-wall cooking shows on tv … what’s that about then?

still watching tv programs about decorating (wrecking your house), antiques (flogging-off your old tat), gardening (covering every square inch of your garden in hardware to avoid the inconvenience of plants)?

where you been boy? they’re all so passe. cooking is the new black. it’s the way forward. in fact it’s the way backwards and sideways as well. you can’t avoid cooking on tv whichever way you look! (more…)