What the hell is Radio 1 'shock jock' Chris Moyles playing at, exactly?
Last night there was an advert for his hilarious new project, 'The Chris Moyles Parody Album'. That's right, for £9.71 of your hard-earned, you too can own a copy of musical history, as Moyles and his team slightly change the words to some recent pop records. Brilliant. It even says on the blurb online that as well as the parodies, he's written a series of new tunes exclusive to the album. I'm no pedant, but I'm pretty sure material you've written yourself doesn't constitute a parody, ergo it's not a chuffing parody album is it?
When he barrelled onto the scene in the mid-90's, he was labelled 'controversial' and other terms which make middle Englanders shit themselves, because he wasn't a banal airhead. I didn't mind Radio 1 back in the day, but after 4 or 5 years, I realised that they had absolutely no intention of keeping it fresh so I gave up and switched to FiveLive. From then on, my Radio 1 listening came via being a reluctant passenger in the car of someone who thought he was ace (such folk exist, apparently) and an interesting thing became clear. Over the years, not only did he bang out the same features (Carpark Catchphrase still? Really?), but he'd also become a corporate lackey, dropping his obviously fake shock persona in place of being a board-friendly inoffensive drivel-merchant. Gone are the edgy comments and low-level bad language, replaced with banality which would make a regional Real Radio operative feel grubby.
Now, a certain amount of blame can be levelled at the BBC itself, as broadcast guidelines were tightened in the light of the Brand/Ross scandal, meaning he had to scale down his supposedly controversial views to prevent someone wearing a cardigan having a panic attack. The thing is, though, he wasn't exactly Howard Stern at the worst of times, and his listenership knew what he was like and were unlikely to suddenly think he was offensive and call for him to be spectacularly terminated. All of which leads me to think that he's realised the sum total of his powers is to sit on his arse taking the piss out of his sycophantic team, so he's put his feet under the table and is staying for the duration. Classic gravy train material.
To be fair to him, he has tried to crack television, with a level of success comparable with Robbie Williams' attempts to break America. Despite James Corden paving the way, he doesn't exactly fit the profile of a hip and happening presenter, so maybe he's realised that his future lies in slightly rewriting tunes currently in the hit parade and ambling up a mountain because Gary Barlow told him to.
Either way, he'll end up a millionaire.
Friday, 27 November 2009
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Nobody cares, 'Jordan'. Nobody cares
There was a time, at the back end of the nineties, when Jordan was fit. Human-sized tits and a human-shaped fizzog adorned a well-put-together chassis. Yes she was a she-chav, covered in pink tracksuits and enough make-up to mend a Cumbrian bridge, but everything was where it should be, and I liked it.
Skip forward to the present day, and she's done it all. Shagged Yorkie, been in a sex video with burger fan Dane Bowers, married the first bloke to show an ounce of interest in what was behind the plastic, divorced his ass and gone back to the jungle for 'closure'. I'm surprised she's had time to get under the knife during all that.
She faces something of a problem these days, however. Nobody gives a shit about her anymore.
Previously, people seemed to warm to her because she was a genuine (if massively dense) person. Yes, she was trading off her looks, but she seemed a decent sort and she wasn't averse to getting her cans out, so we left her be. However, over the years it's become clear that she's quite an astute businesswoman, using the Jordan brand to further her modelling, writing and, yes, singing career. With that came a certain amount of cynicism from the general public, who realised she's not as daft as she seems.
Her latest stunt was to return to the jungle post-Andre, and the public had a field day. Voted for 7 consecutive Bushtucker Trials (whatever the fuck they are), she lost her rag and quit the show. 'Who cares' quoth the masses, as she tried to glean sympathy for herself. She then decided to announce that she was dumping her latest squeeze via the medium of Ant 'n' Dec, rather than sitting the poor chap down and explaining her intentions. Now, I'm not entirely sure what she expected to happen here, but let's face it, most people wouldn't like being given the elbow on national telly, and have sided with the bloke. Nobody in their right mind could think "I know, I'll dump t'other half on the box and people will be like 'Aw, poor Katie. It must be well tough having millions in the bank and being in the press despite not being passably attractive since 2006. My deepest sympathies'"
Having weighed up the many pros and cons in this complex emotional case, I feel she needs to adopt a two-pronged strategy to sort out this mess.
1) Grow up
2) Fuck off out of the press
They say every dog has it's day. I doubt I need to waste time writing the punchline...
Skip forward to the present day, and she's done it all. Shagged Yorkie, been in a sex video with burger fan Dane Bowers, married the first bloke to show an ounce of interest in what was behind the plastic, divorced his ass and gone back to the jungle for 'closure'. I'm surprised she's had time to get under the knife during all that.
She faces something of a problem these days, however. Nobody gives a shit about her anymore.
Previously, people seemed to warm to her because she was a genuine (if massively dense) person. Yes, she was trading off her looks, but she seemed a decent sort and she wasn't averse to getting her cans out, so we left her be. However, over the years it's become clear that she's quite an astute businesswoman, using the Jordan brand to further her modelling, writing and, yes, singing career. With that came a certain amount of cynicism from the general public, who realised she's not as daft as she seems.
Her latest stunt was to return to the jungle post-Andre, and the public had a field day. Voted for 7 consecutive Bushtucker Trials (whatever the fuck they are), she lost her rag and quit the show. 'Who cares' quoth the masses, as she tried to glean sympathy for herself. She then decided to announce that she was dumping her latest squeeze via the medium of Ant 'n' Dec, rather than sitting the poor chap down and explaining her intentions. Now, I'm not entirely sure what she expected to happen here, but let's face it, most people wouldn't like being given the elbow on national telly, and have sided with the bloke. Nobody in their right mind could think "I know, I'll dump t'other half on the box and people will be like 'Aw, poor Katie. It must be well tough having millions in the bank and being in the press despite not being passably attractive since 2006. My deepest sympathies'"
Having weighed up the many pros and cons in this complex emotional case, I feel she needs to adopt a two-pronged strategy to sort out this mess.
1) Grow up
2) Fuck off out of the press
They say every dog has it's day. I doubt I need to waste time writing the punchline...
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Don't get up, love. I'll sort your mess out
Despite constabularies up and down the country now referring to the coming together of two motor vehicles as a "road traffic collision" as per their shiny new guidelines, it's still an "accident". Apart from that fella who got put away for hiding round corners in his car then suing for all manner of made-up physical complaints, a crash tends to be an accident, with blame attributable one way or the other.
Such a coming together occurred to me this morning.
I was literally stationary in a queue at a traffic light when this - and I choose my words carefully here - moronic gimp managed to punt me up the tailpipe. It wasn't exactly high-speed, but it proper shook me from my Pulse-of-West-Yorkshire-induced daze, I can tell you.
I looked in my mirror to see a blonde bird sat there, and for a second I thought I saw the rebellious glint of a runner in her eye, but by pulling across to the pavement in front of the other drivers I forced her hand and she duly followed.
Now, I've been in this situation before when I was the bumper and some poor soul the bumpee, and the protocol is thus:
- You both get out
- You throw yourself a their mercy, begging on your knees for automotive repentence
- You swap insurance details
- You fuck off
But not this washed-out harpie. Instead:
- I got out
- She peered out of her window and asked "Is mine alright?"
- I bit my tongue lest I set about her with a tyre iron
- She said "I'm really sorrer" which I'm told is the local dialect equivlant of "My deepest apologies, squire"
- Bereft of speech, I left the scene
There was no damage to either car that I could see, so I wasn't that arsed about her not giving the shiniest of shites about the situation, but you'd have thought she could have got off her backside and had a quick butcher's, if only to check her hairdressermobile was unscathed. I thought I was reasonably diplomatic (which may or may not be deemed by others as 'overly assertive') but I didn't swear or take her to task when she wouldn't get out of the car, so she didn't really have an excuse not to get involved.
I think we've all learnt from this. She's learnt that, yes, there are people out there daft enough to clear up her mess for her, meaning she'll probably trundle through life using her ample bosom (possibly) and loose sexual morals (almost certainly) to get what she wants. I've learnt that sometimes violence isn't the answer. It's a good day.
Such a coming together occurred to me this morning.
I was literally stationary in a queue at a traffic light when this - and I choose my words carefully here - moronic gimp managed to punt me up the tailpipe. It wasn't exactly high-speed, but it proper shook me from my Pulse-of-West-Yorkshire-induced daze, I can tell you.
I looked in my mirror to see a blonde bird sat there, and for a second I thought I saw the rebellious glint of a runner in her eye, but by pulling across to the pavement in front of the other drivers I forced her hand and she duly followed.
Now, I've been in this situation before when I was the bumper and some poor soul the bumpee, and the protocol is thus:
- You both get out
- You throw yourself a their mercy, begging on your knees for automotive repentence
- You swap insurance details
- You fuck off
But not this washed-out harpie. Instead:
- I got out
- She peered out of her window and asked "Is mine alright?"
- I bit my tongue lest I set about her with a tyre iron
- She said "I'm really sorrer" which I'm told is the local dialect equivlant of "My deepest apologies, squire"
- Bereft of speech, I left the scene
There was no damage to either car that I could see, so I wasn't that arsed about her not giving the shiniest of shites about the situation, but you'd have thought she could have got off her backside and had a quick butcher's, if only to check her hairdressermobile was unscathed. I thought I was reasonably diplomatic (which may or may not be deemed by others as 'overly assertive') but I didn't swear or take her to task when she wouldn't get out of the car, so she didn't really have an excuse not to get involved.
I think we've all learnt from this. She's learnt that, yes, there are people out there daft enough to clear up her mess for her, meaning she'll probably trundle through life using her ample bosom (possibly) and loose sexual morals (almost certainly) to get what she wants. I've learnt that sometimes violence isn't the answer. It's a good day.
Monday, 16 November 2009
It's not my fault, so soz
It appears that when you're in politics, at any one time you're only a few minutes away from someone having a go at you. I don't mean mouthing 'wanker' while you're on the phone to the President of Burundi, or flushing your head down the bog at dinner. Instead, I mean members of the opposition making you look like a right royal fool in order to undermine your political standing whilst making themselves look like super-cool happening dudes.
You may have noticed the government has taken a bit of a battering of late. With the credit crunch, the various wars we're involved in and the expenses 'row', there's always something going on which the Tories and the Lib Dems can use to say "See, they're rubbish at governing. Put us in charge and you'll get free doughnuts for life".
Now, if Gordon Brown was going round kicking kittens up the arse or shouting "Homosexuals are gay", I could understand the abuse he gets, but the latest attempt to pick on him is a bit lame to say the least.
I'm sure you've seen the story; he hand-wrote a letter of condolence to the mother of a soldier killed in Afghanistan, but managed to make a right hash of it, making several spelling mistakes and even getting her name wrong. Quite frankly, it's a disgrace, and the mother in question had every right to have a go at him in the popular press as she comes to terms with her terrible loss.
The thing is though, it's got nowt to do with anyone else, but for some reason papers and news outlets have decided it's another stick to beat him with. I'm pretty sure the only 'crime' he's committed is disrespect, but you'd think he'd been putting babies on spikes the way the press are carrying on. It was even breaking news when the mother accepted his apology. I have every sympathy for her and her plight, but can you honestly say, hand on heart, that you give a shit about the ongoing dialogue between them both? He's not the Prime Minister of Spelling, so if he makes a couple of mistakes, by all means roll your eyes, but don't start having a go at him like he's some kind of evil-doer. Let those who he's treated badly sort it out.
I'm no Brown sympathiser and I don't vote, so there's no political agenda here, but I do find it a bit ridiculous the amount of cack he has to put up with because he's in charge. The latest gripe is from these poor buggers who were shipped to Australia against their will decades ago, where they were separated from their siblings and abused and allsorts. It's a harrowing story, not least because it was carried out in living memory, with most of the victims in their 50's and 60's. It seems incredible that a country which sees itself as advanced would treat its people this way, but there you go.
The thing is, Brown is now expected to stand up and say sorry for what a previous government did. Pardon the potential outrage, but why should he? By all means get up and express your disgust at their plight, but in no way was he responsible for it, so he's got no need to apologise. If any of the original decision-makers are still alive, drag them out and hold them to account. I doubt the victims want an apology anyway, as no amount of saying 'Soz' will repair the damage or bring back the years, but even if they did, they wouldn't want it from someone who wasn't reponsible for it. You might as well get Simon Cowell to say sorry for the good it was do.
Besides, he's got enough to apologise for. X-Factor indeed.
You may have noticed the government has taken a bit of a battering of late. With the credit crunch, the various wars we're involved in and the expenses 'row', there's always something going on which the Tories and the Lib Dems can use to say "See, they're rubbish at governing. Put us in charge and you'll get free doughnuts for life".
Now, if Gordon Brown was going round kicking kittens up the arse or shouting "Homosexuals are gay", I could understand the abuse he gets, but the latest attempt to pick on him is a bit lame to say the least.
I'm sure you've seen the story; he hand-wrote a letter of condolence to the mother of a soldier killed in Afghanistan, but managed to make a right hash of it, making several spelling mistakes and even getting her name wrong. Quite frankly, it's a disgrace, and the mother in question had every right to have a go at him in the popular press as she comes to terms with her terrible loss.
The thing is though, it's got nowt to do with anyone else, but for some reason papers and news outlets have decided it's another stick to beat him with. I'm pretty sure the only 'crime' he's committed is disrespect, but you'd think he'd been putting babies on spikes the way the press are carrying on. It was even breaking news when the mother accepted his apology. I have every sympathy for her and her plight, but can you honestly say, hand on heart, that you give a shit about the ongoing dialogue between them both? He's not the Prime Minister of Spelling, so if he makes a couple of mistakes, by all means roll your eyes, but don't start having a go at him like he's some kind of evil-doer. Let those who he's treated badly sort it out.
I'm no Brown sympathiser and I don't vote, so there's no political agenda here, but I do find it a bit ridiculous the amount of cack he has to put up with because he's in charge. The latest gripe is from these poor buggers who were shipped to Australia against their will decades ago, where they were separated from their siblings and abused and allsorts. It's a harrowing story, not least because it was carried out in living memory, with most of the victims in their 50's and 60's. It seems incredible that a country which sees itself as advanced would treat its people this way, but there you go.
The thing is, Brown is now expected to stand up and say sorry for what a previous government did. Pardon the potential outrage, but why should he? By all means get up and express your disgust at their plight, but in no way was he responsible for it, so he's got no need to apologise. If any of the original decision-makers are still alive, drag them out and hold them to account. I doubt the victims want an apology anyway, as no amount of saying 'Soz' will repair the damage or bring back the years, but even if they did, they wouldn't want it from someone who wasn't reponsible for it. You might as well get Simon Cowell to say sorry for the good it was do.
Besides, he's got enough to apologise for. X-Factor indeed.
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